Most parents, in my observation, have a hard time sending their child off to school — or anyone else’s care — for the first time. Although I have to believe it mostly a stereotype, or give up on humanity altogether, the meme of the parent — usually a mother, of course– picking a preschool as part of an overall strategy to get into Harvard (or Oxford or what-have-you) seems based on some tiny grain of truth — certainly in privileged America1 it seems practically a pastime to obsess over a child’s first school. And The Man and I are have not escaped this cultural obsession, though neither Harvard nor Oxford — nor college nor career nor earning potential nor networking opportunities — are on our minds at all when we look at preschools. They simply don’t strike us as anything to bother about at this age, when we don’t yet know the Boychick’s gender much less his passions or goals for his life.
But here is what I am worried about when The Man and I contemplate school options2:
I am worried that my child will stop saying his favorite color is pink (or sometimes purple). I am worried that he will be teased for — or, in the interest of not being teased, “politely discouraged from” — wearing blouses and ponytails and black mary janes. I am worried he will learn to say “I can’t do that, only girls do that” — and that he won’t be corrected by the adults who watch him. I am worried he will learn that “boys have penises and girls have vaginas” and that vulvas and clitorises and people whose gender are not accurately assessed by the shape of their genitals at birth will be invisible, unspeakable.
I am worried that our first, so-tentative steps to teach him to speak race will be erased in the name of the racism that masquerades as “color-blindness”. I am worried that he will learn to mistake cultural appropriation for “diversity appreciation”. I am worried he will learn a Thanksgiving tale with polite Puritans and benevolent natives and no sequelae of genocide and war and nation theft and debts still owed. (He may be too young to learn of the hundred thousand greater and lesser evils perpetrated — past and present — against America’s first peoples, but don’t teach him a pleasant lie whose eventual revelation will indicate betrayal by those he trusted to speak truth.)
I am worried he will learn to fear for his environment before he learns to love it. I am worried he will learn about vanishing habitats and diminishing resources, instead of worms and bugs and the ecosystem of his backyard and the abundance all around him. (Let his passion be sparked first, before anxieties are ignited.) I am worried that he will be taught to be “green” out of guilt and shame, rather than to reuse and conserve as an act of creativity and consideration.
I am worried he will be taught to be schooled, not allowed to live and thus to learn. I am worried he will start to believe that “learning” is done only at school, that “knowledge” is handed down only by teachers, that his own drive to experiment and experience and question and create will be squashed to fit in the box of “education”. I am worried he will learn to hate “math” instead of discovering the joy (yes, I said joy) of playing (yes, I said playing) with numbers. I am worried that reading will become A Thing, which he Does or Does Not Do, with a time line and judgments and comparisons with others, rather than something fun and functional he’ll pick up when he’s ready, something we share together in the meantime.
I am worried that he will be inducted into a binary world of bullies and victims and will learn that is he one or the other, when I know he is neither. I am worried he will learn that words wound, that conflict is resolved through scuffles when no one is looking, that no one likes a tattle-tale, that adults are judges and juries not mediators or guides, that hurting others is bad only because it engenders punishment or “consequences”. I am worried no one will help him find better words to create more loving connections, that forced apologies will take the place of heartfelt amends, that he will learn that relationships are to be tallied, not nurtured.
In short, I’m afraid that his brainwashing by kyriarchy (already begun, because we can never escape it completely) will rapidly accelerate.
In the forthcoming Part Two: How I offer questions which I consider important in making this decision, seeking to mitigate and minimize kyriarchy’s influence on my still-so-young child.
- Which is to say white middle-upper-class USA ↩
- Why are we considering school at all? Because, when it comes down to it, I need time. Time to finish massage school, time to blog, time to run and bike, time to have a career — or two. Is it our ideal? No (though neither is me home alone with him). Will I accept any criticism of the compromises we make living in kyriarchy — or any assertions that “it’s good for him” as though staying home would be bad somehow? No and hell no again. This is a “mommy-war”-free zone. ↩
Arwyn
In my bathroom hangs a plaque with a picture of a yin yang and the word BALANCE. I can never get it to hang straight. This probably says something deep and meaningful about my life.
I’m equally terrified by the prospect of picking a school. My concerns are less about academic achievement (I believe if children and young adults are that way inclined they will find a way to pursue it regardless of how privileged the school is considered to be), and much more about the social environment.
I worry that teachers will punish and reward instead of reason and negotiate. I worry that she will be bullied, or will be a bully, or will change herself in a material way to ‘fit in’. I worry that the lack of diversity in our community (very dominant white population) will mean that she will adopt certain racial attitudes and not have the experience to have these attitudes challenged in any real way.
But mostly I worry that her sensitive spirit will be broken. I worry that she will develop an armour, and that she will be encouraged to do so.
I too worry about these issues, and I fear when I have to send her off to school. Like you, “I need time” and I cannot take into my hands her “formal education”. I am hoping to instill the joys of learning in C and I pray that I can undo many of the bad influences that she will be exposed to in school. With luck I can keep her out of the “educational system” until kindergarten — I am lucky to have my cousin in the role of allomami
It was my goal to be able to home school C until 3rd grade, but the lack of “time” and “village” is wearing me thin –and not in the “helping me lose the baby fat way”.
*hugs*
And looking forward to part 2!
Oh I wish I wish I could have even the faintest hope of finding a preschool here that addressed any of these concerns. Instead I angst about the consequences and about how to subvert them. And about how to evaluate the relative importance of our home teachings/learnings and what comes from beyond.
For me, it is a losing battle with myself and with my new society to expect any of these things here. Trying to find my way within that includes figuring out What to Do When Preschool Is the Kyriarchy.
Ever thaught about unschooling? Maybe you already scrapped this off your list, but it could be a possibility worth contemplating, and you could combine it wth other things
See footnote two: I need time. The Boychick has a high capacity for independent play, but I’m not able to write much, and obviously can’t take a class or do massage or go running, with him around. And we’ve not found any other, affordable way to get someone else watching him long enough or regularly enough.
Otherwise, yes, we’re both of an unschooling/child-directed learning bent. And perhaps when he’s older (he’s three this month) we’ll reevaluate. Or perhaps send him to one of the open ed/unschooly schools in the area.
I could have figured out as much, but just wanted to check.
Still going to push (eventhough I know you have probably covered your bases already), maybe you could find out if there’s an unschooling (or homeschooling) community in your area. and work out some kind of child-sharing system. Just one or two other families would already do the trick.
Or you could try to get him into a couple weekly activities to free up some time for yourself… I’m just thinking in virtual letters here…
You know, I kind of worry about this things, then don’t. My daughter is in nursery four days a week, and I do wonder/worry what things she is picking up that I don’t particularly like. I like the nursery, and I like the people, but the ubiquitous “good girl”/”good boy” parrotting gets on my nerves.
But then I remember all the stats about how much educational outcomes correlate so much more to the home environment and parental influence than to the actual school itself, and I think that there is no reason why that shouldn’t be the case with social attitudes and self-regard as well. Anecdotally, I went to a school that was complete shit on paper, but got what I think was a good education. And since I went to a top tier university thereafter, I do have some capacity to compare what was, on paper, a “bad” education with a “good” education.
And of course I know that parental influence is not everything, especially as they get older, but there is also something to be said for the idea that a person needs to be aware of the ugly realities, if only to reject some of them (which is not to say that a child should be thrown into an unpleasant situation just to learn about the unpleasant situation which they otherwise wouldn’t have had to know about unless you decided to teach them about it).
sorry, long and rambling comment. Overall conclusion meant to be: your child will probably be okay if you teach them what’s okay.
While most parents try to raise there children within a cloistered and protected bubble that reflects their own take on the world, introduction to perspectives that don’t reflect your own could be valuable. In my parent’s case, their version of reality was Fundamentalist Pentecostalism. My mother truly believed that this was the best way to raise a child and worked to protect us from outside influences. These outside influences, however, were a lifesaver for me. When people ask how I ended up comparatively well-adjusted, considering my past, the answer is almost always school and the library (with some help from a good man I married.) And while my beliefs on child rearing mirror yours far more closely than they mirror my parents, I will be grateful for perspectives that differ from my own. I plan to openly discuss what others believe with my child. They might find truth in places I haven’t prescribed, but that’s what will make it their journey, not my own. I know my instinct will be to limit my child’s access to alternate points of view, especially when they are young, but I am unable to distinguish between my parent’s desire to make my world small and my own to do so with my children.
I hope you find the pre-school experience you want for Boy-chick. I’m glad you are trying to protect him from things you find inappropriate. For me, though, a better protection would have been a presentation of choices in which the choices of my parents had seemed the best. I would have agreed with them because they made sense, not because they kept me from another point of view.
I love your post!!! It’s such a strong desire to protect our kids from things that we think are bad for them, but they have to learn how to live in this world and be themselves, too. My daughter is only 3 and I struggled with finding a preschool last September; I wanted her to have more time with other kids and I wanted her to have a chance to be more independent for a few hours every week. There were 3 preschools in our area: one was a co-op that I would have loved, but my husband is the one who stays home with her and he didn’t feel comfortable volunteering there; one was a Montessori school, which I liked the idea of on the surface, but this particular school seemed to be more academically focused than I wanted; the last choice was a Christian school, which scared me because I didn’t want Rachel to be exposed to fundamentalist ideas. I finally chose the Christian school because I liked the hours, the student:teacher ratio and the focus on free play and socializing that they had there. I realized as well that the Christian teachings in preschool would likely be along the lines of singing “Jesus Loves Me” and hearing the story of Noah’s ark, as opposed to any heavy discussions about gay marriage or abortion or other big issues. Next year she’ll be going to public school for JK.
Good luck! Make sure you meet the teachers. Actual learning environment depends more on how the teacher reacts to the child than school philosophy. Tell them about your concerns, and see whether they try to listen to you or not. And most of all, do they listen to Boychick? And does he like them?
You have a lot of love and sympathy from me, the choice is hard. Boychick will soon be old enough to express his own young opinion on people he meets. That tells a lot.
Im sure glad my mother never sent me to that private boarding school somebody recommended.
The idea of finding a group of parents to share home schooling is also worth looking into. Could you manage to teach 5 or so one day a week in your home if the others did likewise in theirs?
Boychick would get more adult and less peer company, pro and con.
My daughter attends a fabulous play-based preschool. She definitely HAS learned that girls like pink and boys like blue. There is a definite social structure that exists, as you would expect when you put 24 children on a playground and let them go. Aspects of it make me a little sad.
But. But. That is not the whole story. My daughter’s school doesn’t have ‘work’, and all of the learning happens through open-ended play. She is able to move between many activities, far more than I could offer at home, and engage creatively. The teachers focus on emotional and social development, and are very aware and on top of any power dynamics that happen. I do not fear that my child will be bullied, or be a bully. There is no fear or humiliation used to keep the children in line. There is a garden at the school, and an extremely diverse student population. The preschool director spends time ranting to me about how much she hates commercialism and the licensing of every toy, book and children’s clothing item.
Is the preschool perfect? No. Nothing is perfect. But I am confident that it is still very good, and that even given its downsides my influence is still stronger than the other preschoolers’ influences. And as I, like you, need time, I accept the imperfection. In some ways I’m actually glad that my daughter is learning to deal with these social dynamics in this environment, that is still safe and has a strong focus on the whole child. Next year she will be going to kindergarten, and I expect that there will be less of a holistic and creative approach to schooling. Mastering some of the nuances of socializing with her peers now may help her with the transition later, so that beginning formal schooling is less traumatic overall.
My offer of solace is that you will still be his parents, no matter where he goes or what he learns – you will be there to guide and correct and steer him in the larger rights of the world. You will provide the opportunities for him that school will not because you care about the exploration of his personal interests. When he cries because someone laughs at him you will console and comfort and explain to him how much of the rest of the world is different than the one he has grown up in with you. He will learn and grow but he will still be *your* son, and *you* will still be *his* mom and dad.
It’s so damn hard. Living in a very conservative/gender-normed/anti-green area made homeschooling the best choice for us (us, but certainly not everyone). But I fight for my time, I make an effort to let the kids know that I deserve my time as much as they deserve theirs. If I was going to school as well, I don’t think I could ever do it.
Now if only those perfect schools would fall out of the sky. LOL
The nice thing is that I think at this age, while peers do have influence, I think the way we as their parents approach life and cultural issues plays a bigger role. School can’t completely take that away.
Do you have any Montessori preschools in your area? It can sometimes be hard to find good ones but if you do they’ll help with a lot of what you mention (it’s much more of an “unschooling” approach). I’m hoping D will be able to go to a Montessori preschool starting in another year or so. I would love for him to go thru elementary there, too, but not sure that will be feasable… Anyway if you have questions about Montessori or what to look for in one of their schools let me know.
@mightymarce
One thing to find solace in is that you arrived at who you are as part of a journey and life education and you were not “protected” from all the ugly stuff of life so I think that there is no one path to being an aware, sensitive, confident, accepting, thoughtful (and any other adjectives you want for him/her) person. I read a quote today “Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.” ~Robert Fulghum
I just found your blog, and think you’ll be added to my list of frequented blogs. We’re in the “figure out a kindergarten” stage right now, and dealing with the same questions. It’s even more complicated when figuring out public vs. private, big vs. little and all those different philosophies. Our neighborhood school is an arts-immersion school, but we’re also thinking about a freeschool in the area too. Kiddo is in a Reggio Emilia preschool right now, which might be another option for you to look into (depending on where you are). Very child-led, and check that the school has an anti-bias philosiphy as well. I’ve noticed that her teachers say “friends” instead of “boys and girls”.
On another note, I work for an organization that supports families of gender-nonconforming children – if you’re interested, our website is http://www.TransActiveOnline.org and see if we have any resources you might not have run across yet. Supporting your child is the best thing you can do, and I applaud you!
My daughter has been at a Montessori since she was 20 months and has THRIVED there. I’m really happy with how their style meshes with my parenting, and how joyous she is to go every day. It’s very child directed, with a little bit of focused teaching thrown in, especially now that she’s in a 3-6 year old “primary classroom.” I haven’t run into anything that really bugs me. I think a lot of your concerns you laid out in this entry would be pretty well addressed in this school’s philosophies and structure. it’s certainly been a lot easier for me to let go and entrust my daughter to them than I thought…she just keeps growing in really positive ways, so I haven’t found really anything to get my hackles up about.
There is a Montessori quite near us, that I hear is lovely and looks wonderful — but the cost is simply prohibitive. And we’re comparatively well off.
I hear good things about Montessori, and wonder why we aren’t looking at any, and then remember the price tag. Which not only is off putting to us, but more or less guarantees class homogeneity in their students, which I find problematic.
(Granted, that’s more or less — mostly slightly less — true of all the schools we’re looking at, but at this one it is particularly difficult to overlook.)
I forgot to mention that the nursery my daughter is at is Montessori – another reason perhaps that I’m comfortable with it. It’s comparatively priced with the local alternatives though, and the children and staff seem fairly diverse, so I guess we’re lucky there. Is Montessori in the US always associated with a premium price?