I sat there in my undersized chair listening to the teacher in awe and fascination as she held her class’s attention. I looked at my boy seated straight up the front, further to the left his best friend Mr N and across the other side was Mr A a little boy who appears randomly on a Saturday morning old school style without phone call without nothing. Dotted amongst them were kids I knew but didn’t.
I then looked right at the back and there he was; Mr Kid. He was seated on his own. He wasn’t part of a row like the others. He was part of the class but disjointedly there. Placed there for whatever reason; a necessary evil I suppose one that is done so as that everyone can learn. He participated he was included and yet he was separate for the good of him and the others.
I sat there looking at this Mr Kid. Sizing him up but yet there wasn’t much about him to size up.
This was the kid amongst others had at the beginning of the week had given my boy grief. Enough grief that it had caused bouts of nightmares and sleep walking. Bullying? I suppose so I dont know what else to call something that despite repeated no’s or stops continues any way.
So when I went to class reading this day I had expectations of this kid and a couple of others. I had opinions of what you do with kids like these. How they should be handled after all he had hurt mine. What I felt the school and the teachers should do. I had an opinion.
I also had an expectation of Mr Kid when he sat with me this morning for reading. I expected difficult. I expected awful I expected whole lot of stuff. I expected reasons why when his carer drops him off to school that she is always yelling at him; always. There is never not yelling hence he must be a difficult child; a brat because no one yells at their child that much for any other reason and I am not judging her because I am not in her shoes. I hope I am never in a position where I have to take on my children’s children for matters that are none of my business but regardless of that I got that parent attitude one may get when one is meeting the kid that had hurt theirs for the first time.
Relinquished from the teachers control nosily the class disbanded into their reading groups and naturally Mr Kid was in mine. Murphy’s law is always on my side.
I said to Mr Kid as we sat to read ‘what are we reading today Mr Kid’ I had left him till last on purpose. I was hesitant I had never dealt with this kid before. All of what I had heard was second hand knowledge and what I had seen was not a representation of the knowledge because mother hood is tough but still I had that attitude the one where you’re meeting that kid who has picked on your kid and in the process reprimanded your sleep.
The little snowman Mr Kid said his broken front tooth fully visible. Great I replied and what do you know about the book I said. He proceeded to tell me and when he stopped I said to him ‘Have you ever seen the snow?’ Mr Kid. No he said it doesn’t snow at my place. No I said it doesn’t. Would you like to see the snow I said? He looked blankly at me and said B2 has seen the snow looking straight to my boy seated across from me. Yes I said he has but would you like to see the snow Mr Kid? It doesn’t snow at my place he said again tracing the snowman on the cover with his fingers. He wasn’t understanding my question I thought so I said to him when you get older do you think you might like to see the snow? When you’re big like me would you like to go to the snow and build a snow man? He looked at me his eyes brown and wide and said ‘I would like to go to see the snow but that will never happen’. ‘Oh I am sure it will’ I said softly looking at the book. He looked down at the book opened it and said ‘nah it won’t’ and started reading the big bold text on the page.
My heart broke for him right there and I saw Mr Kid in a whole new light one that wanted me to scoop him and say of course you will see the snow because you can do absolute anything, my opinions of how to handle these ‘types’ of kids out the window. My opinions of why they are ‘difficult’ and how to handle it proving me ignorant and misguided and yet suddenly making me fully aware of my impact on my child. My understanding also that the teachers the schools can build them all they like and do their best to deal with it but it’s what happens at home that counts even more and whilst I understand what discpline can do a lot of loving does more and so now I dont know what to do. A teacher a school system a community can’t infiltrate the home.
I looked across at my B2 who I will admit was not doing as he is told and smiled. B2 knows that anything is possible for him as do all my boys. He believes it because it’s what his father and I have told him and have shown him. There is nothing they can’t do and there is nothing that we will not support them with if that’s truly what they want. Most importantly they know they are loved and valued yet that’s not to say Mr Kid isn’t told all of those things but parenthood is hard and throw in life and it’s harder perhaps a matter of survival of the fittest in some households.
Still looking at my boy B2 I noticed he started to misbehave getting rowdier and showing off. Hey I said to B2 settle down…yeah B2 said Mr Kid otherwise you’ll get a flogging…I looked down at Mr Kidd…’he will get a flogging wont he?’ he said back to me ‘No sweet I replied he won’t’.
I wanted to say things have to be pretty bad for a flogging but I didn’t because well who knows what a flogging is for at his house.
