The clouds have lifted and the sun is brightly shining. My head is clearing as well, and my eyes are beginning to see the beauty of the light. Promise. Hope. Happiness.

Friday, October 06, 2006

An interesting read -- especially to me, the mom of a first grader

The New First Grade: Too Much Too Soon?:

Two years ago, Joel and I began discussing whether Dane was ready for kindergarten or if we should hold him back one more year. Dane's birthday is in July, so that means either he would be one of the youngest in his class, or one of the oldest. We weighed our options -- the reasons we wanted him to begin kindergarten (he was academically ready) and why we wanted him to stay back (He had no formal schooling previously, only an in home preschool, and he was little for his age). Ultimately, for us, we decided to put him in kindergarten because we wanted him to be in a different grade level than his cousin. It had nothing to do with all the other stuff. We were very satisfied with Dane's kindergarten experience. He played and he learned. It was the way it should have been and his teacher was the perfect combination of structure and love.

Well, now Dane is in first grade. And, to put it bluntly, first grade is a whole different animal. This article hits it on the head.

Instead of story time, finger painting, tracing letters and snack, first graders are spending hours doing math work sheets and sounding out words in reading groups. In some places, recess, music, art and even social studies are being replaced by writing exercises and spelling quizzes. Kids as young as 6 are tested, and tested again, some every 10 days or so, to ensure they're making sufficient progress. After school, there's homework, and for some, educational videos, more workbooks and tutoring, to help give them an edge.

It all gives me a pit in my stomach. Dane came home from his second day of school with his worksheets. One of them was a coloring exercise to which I was amazed by how well he colored.

Example

You see, my Dane is not a great colorer. He just doesn't really care about it. He colors what he wants, where he wants and moves on. Well, this piece was done very well. "Dane, this is really good." I turned around assuming he'd be all proud and happy, and he said, "throw it away" and that he "hated it". Well, after talking about it...I was told he had to REDO it. That his teacher told him it wasn't done well enough. That he had to WORK HARDER at it. I literally felt my heart sink. Tell me, why does anyone feel that they can tell my kid how to color? To COLOR!!? And, moreso, make him feel that way?

I don't mean to come down on Dane's teacher. We've discussed this incident, as well as other things that have come up (Dane is extremely hard on himself) and she really IS great. But the fact is, she HAS to be like this. She HAS to be sure that my child is up to par in all areas of academic because her job.. In many ways her livelihood in job terms, rests on my 6 year old son's shoulders. Dane needs to know how to read, how to do math, how to frickin color right or she looks like a bad teacher.

or worse...

My son falls behind in the years to come.

What's the answer? Man, I don't know. It's a toss up between pushing hard enough that he gets challenged and pushing too hard that he gets frustrated and burned out. I guess every kid is different. Every parent is different. And every academic situation is different. For me, I'll love my kid. I want Dane to be a kid. A happy go lucky kid. I'll let him guide his own learning. Dane loves to read. He doesn't work at it like some kids do. He is proud of himself and keeps on going. So I'm going to tell him he's great, doing beautifully and is wonderful. I'm going to be his best advocate, his best cheerleader. And when he comes home with a 100 on his spelling test, or a picture that is colored out of the lines, he's going to know that it's perfect and I LOVE IT.

That's all we can do folks. Love 'em and hope for the best.

1 comment:

jouettelove said...

here, here! my son is in 1st grade too, and i love this post.