I just left my son after spending the first hour of his public
education experience with him. I was
surprised to feel the immense emotions and tears that came flooding in as soon
as I left him. When I was there, I was
the rock. I was solid, reassuring, gently
guiding and encouraging, acquainting him with the room, teacher, and other kids
he’ll be spending over 1,000 hours of his life in. But not a cold heartless, detached rock. I could feel him deeply - his simultaneous apprehension
and strength in being immersed in his new environment. Hearing all the advice handed down to me from
other parents, I started to dismiss everything I felt as “normal” or just part
of it, but as soon as I walked away, it hit me.
The teacher is good, kind, professional. She invited him and the other students to
choose their own dot to sit on for whatever was next. I gave him one last hug and kiss for the day
and he went over to join the other kids, but in his own way, at the far edge of
the mat. Looking a little sad, a little
scared, then - a little angry? It
shocked me. I didn't see it coming. But again, I dismissed it as “normal,” just
part of the experience.
I’m tempted to just ignore it, pick up my smartphone, post
only the sweet happy picture, move on with my
I realize that today marks the first real day of his
experience in the “system” - the overburdened under-resourced system in charge
of taking care of and educating our kids.
The system that despite the level of skill, training, and care of the
teacher, cannot possibly provide the same level of understanding, knowing, and individual
connection that a sensitive child needs to feel safe and thrive.
I saw today how much like me my son is, and there are so
many parts of me I wish he didn’t have to inherit. He is strong and capable of doing what is
asked of him, but it comes with a cost.
The cost of ignoring his feelings and his truth. The cost of ignoring and overriding what we
really feel to “fit in.” The cost of
separating a little more from our self.
As I dig deeper I feel into the parts of me that have been
so wounded in school. Feeling shy,
awkward, not fitting in, afraid to introduce myself to new people, wanting to
play and have fun, but being unable to due to all the things I feel. I feel into the parts of me that know what I
want, and feel it is not available there.
As I feel in deeper I touch the
places in me that were made fun of by other kids, the parts of me that felt
like I don’t belong, the part of me that was made to feel bad by teachers when
I spoke up for myself, and the parts that felt stupid, awkward, nerdy, out of
place. Maybe it was just projection, but
it felt as if I could see and feel all of those things in him. I felt like I had cursed him to relive all of
the hard things I experienced in school.
In the moments before I left, we went out to get his water
bottle from his back pack. He said he
wasn’t really thirsty, but hungry. I
told him it wasn’t time to eat now, that he would have to wait a bit. I felt him sink. It wasn’t the school or the teacher who
committed the first act of violence, it was me. I was the one who took him there and I was the
one asking him to ignore his needs to fit in with the system and obey the
schedule.
I could go on and on about countless transgressions throughout
my school experience that shaped how I show up in the world, but I don’t want
to sound like a drama queen. You may
think I’m blowing it out of proportion. (Heck, there is certainly a part of me that does.) Besides, what's the big deal, I got over it. I found ways to make
friends, develop coping strategies (some healthy, some not), and be successful.
I made it out ok. Today I’m fine (mostly). But these experiences matter. They shape us - and don’t want to ignore
these things so often brushed off and not spoken of.
Before I started really looking into myself with the lens of
mindfulness, therapy, and personal growth I dismissed these things I felt and
told myself they were no big deal and I was being too sensitive, dramatic, or
even worse names I won’t repeat here. Of
course I drank a lot from age 16-30+, and was unhappy, but hey, that’s what
everyone else does too, right? But I'm sharing these words because they are my truth. And I’m sharing now, because I didn’t have the awareness, words, or people who would listen then.
I’m feeling tremendous grief. For all my past hurts, for all the ways I was
rejected by others and the ways I rejected myself. I’m feeling tremendous sadness for
introducing my son to the beginning of this system that has the potential to
cause him so much suffering. But my
point is not to dwell in the pain and sorrow, but to give words to and acknowledge
it, as part of the experience of living in our world today. But my question is, “Is it necessary?”
So many parents feel mixed emotions on this day, and this is
my attempt to name some of them specifically, at least from my experience. But my wish is not to dwell on the hurts of
the past (mine) and the future (my son’s), but to acknowledge they exist and
move on with a wish for something different for our children. I hope to give voice to those children that may look like nothing is wrong on the outside, but have been deeply impacted. And to forgive myself for my role in bringing
my child there and dealing the first blow.
I know that no matter how much I have tried to prepare him to do things
in a better way than I did, he still has to have his own life and his own
experience. And I hope that I can trust
that when things are hard for him.
My wish is that the children, their needs, and their
feelings are honored, even and especially if they are inconvenient to the
adults. I hope and pray that they have
the support they need to help them through the hard times, and that with the guidance
of attuned parents, teachers, neighbors, friends, and family members they are
able to have and remember more moments of joy, play, love, curiosity,
innocence, and excitement about
life. That our differences and
awkwardness are treasured rather than made fun of. That our children are able to live lives that
are better than we did, and we are the ones that empower and help create this
for them. That children can learn to
value and trust themselves, even when it is in opposition to others, especially
those in authority. But not that they
are reckless anarchists, rather they learn civility and respect of all people,
especially those that are different than them and in opposition to them. My wish is that our children are given the
love and support they need to not have to struggle, but to feel safe, welcome,
and empowered to thrive in this world bringing their unique gifts and talents
fully to the world. That they never have
to question it, they can just be it.
I don’t know exactly how, but I know it starts with
listening to the children, valuing them, valuing their feelings, treating them
as equals rather than lower than us. By
helping them rather than punishing them when they are feeling scared, angry, or
in any way overwhelmed. By creating an
environment where children can really be known, not just told what to do. It is harder, it takes more time and
resources than we currently give them, and requires a radical paradigm shift,
but don’t you think our children are worth it?
On this day, the first day of school, I hope are able to
change ourselves and our systems to really (not just in a cheesy mission
statement kind of way), but really truly authentically support, empower, and get
out of the way, so our children can lead and create a better world, for all of
us.
~chuck
What do you think? Better yet, what do you feel? What do you experience? Let's continue the conversation! You can find me at www.innerlifeadventures.com or email c@innerlifeadventures.com. Want to meet? Here's how.
Chuck Hancock, M.Ed, LPC is a National Certified Counselor, Licensed Professional Counselor, and a Registered Psychotherapist in the state of CO. He has completed comprehensive training in the Hakomi Method of Experiential Psychotherapy, a mindfulness mind-body centered approach. Chuck guides individuals and groups in self-exploration providing them with insight and tools for change. He also incorporates nature as a therapy tool to help shift perspective and inspire new patterns.
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