The day I tried to observe my son's kindergarten class

Each individual item so small, almost insignificant alone, but when taken together they were hard for me to endure. 

At School: 

• The sexist views that we had worked so hard to avoid now were being taught.
• His lack of free time to do the things he wanted.
• His gentle and sensitive soul thrown into a world where unfair things happened, and no one was there to make them right.
• His view of events differing from the teachers’ view .
• The total lack of common courtesy given to the children.

• His animated, urgent movement like he had lost control.  I think this was because he was force to control his every action during the day without a break.  He was like a caged animal being freed.
• His nightmares. 
• His crying without being able to explain why. I think it was because he felt safe to express all the feelings he had locked up inside him all day that he was not free to express at school.
• His "chewing" on ideas the children had express; trying to make sense of nonsense.  Sometimes he would think he had it figured out, and he would asked me to confirm his logic.  When I questioned him, I would find the event he was digesting had happened days before.

• So many other things.

     The teacher said he was doing great.  He got a smiley-face sticker every day, of which he was very proud.  He never complained.  He seemed to enjoy school.  I needed to see for myself. 

     After the second week, I went to the school to observe his class.  They had stressed the fact that parents were welcome, and they wanted parents to be involved; so I never dreamed that they would not let me monitor a class.  I went through the teacher, the office, and the principal.  They said, I wouldn't be allowed, but they danced around the reason why.  I continued to smile (honey vs. vinegar), but I wouldn't take no for an answer. 

     I tried logic and responded to each of the principal's concerns: 

• Talking to the teacher was not the same as seeing for myself. 
• I had waited two weeks, enough time for the teacher to bond with kids and for the daily routine to be initiated. 
• The children were used to adults, because they had presumably just spent the last five years around them. 
• The children were used to things changing, because they had just spent two weeks having a new experience every day. 
• Even if it were unusual for the school, or the teacher, the children would just take my presence in stride like they had everything else that had happened to them for the last two weeks.

     He principal responded, "Well, how would you feel if she (the teacher) were to come to your house and watch you?" 

     Shocked, I replied, "She would be welcome. In fact there is a government agency that has the power to do that.  It is called Child Protective Services." 

     He asked, "What if someone came to the place you worked to monitor you?" 

     "If the welfare of a child was at stake, they would be allowed," I answered. 

     This was getting me nowhere, so I changed to half-truths.  I smiled and said, "Look, I'm sure that everything is fine, but you know how mothers are.  They always worry too much about their babies, and little kids aren't very good at expressing themselves.  My son says he has fun but can't tell me what he does all day.  He wants to show me.  I took a day off of work, just so I could be with my child and find out what he does.  I don't know when I'll ever be able to get another day off, and I promised him that I would come to see him at school.  Please let me watch today, so I can go back to work tomorrow and feel I've done everything for my child that a mother is expected to do." 

     Visible relief washed over his face.  In a much calmer voice he said, "I'm sorry.  For the sake of the children, the teacher needs a day's notice to prepare the class and explain to them that a parent would be monitoring the class."

     "That's why I came before school this morning.  She can tell the kids as they arrive, that Eric's mom is here to watch the class today.  What is the difference in telling them yesterday or this morning?  Parents are told to check out a day-care center at unexpected times of the day to know what really goes on during the day.  This is my only day I can be here." 

     "I'm sorry, any other day but today.  You understand.  I wish I could help you," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

     "I'll be here tomorrow then.  Thank you," I said and turned to leave. 

     "But you said you couldn't come back," he said with surprise. 

     I smiled. "But I must.  I will be here in the morning."  I left not telling him that I was a stay-at-home mom, and an artist,  who's work consisted of taking care of my child and weaving belts in my own living room. 

     I observed class the next day.  To make a long story not quite so long, I'll just say that the following day was our first official day of homeschooling.  My son is almost 14 and is still bright, happy, gentle and sensitive.   (The same is still true today.  He is 15 now.)

     I asked my five-year-old child if he wanted to go back to doing what we had always done.  He said, "Will I get my sticker?"  How important this arbitrary award system had become in only 11 days of school.  I thought how crushed he would inevitably become when one day he wasn't perfect.  The day he didn't push in his chair; or he asked to use the rest room at an "inappropriate time because we are in transition," or any number of silly things that I saw result in not getting a sticker. 

     I told him we would go to the store; we would buy stickers; and he could give himself one every time "he" felt he earned it.  We did.  The stickers' power over my child lasted for almost a two months, almost six times longer than the eleven days he was in school. 

     Occasionally, for years after, he would tell me of thing that happened in those eleven days. 

     He decided to try middle school when he was twelve-years-old.  He stayed this time for seven weeks.  He had decided after the first week that he had seen enough, yet he wanted to stay until he received his first report card (again an arbitrary award system).  He had proved to himself that he was able to ace the work and that he wasn't missing anything. 

     He tells me he is going to go to the first six weeks of high school, so he can say that he went to elementary school, middle school and high school.  I think it is so that he can have his own "war stories" to swap with other kids.  (Note:  That first year of high school came and went this year without Eric attending an institutional school.  Eric was too busy to give six weeks of his life to the system.)

Suggestions about observing a class. 

From talking to other parents, I have found that one way that the teachers keep you from seeing what happens during the school day is to keep the observer busy with little tasks, errands, and occasionally tutoring. You need to stress that you just want to observe, and that you will come back another time to help. 

I suggest taking a notebook and timepiece. 

Take notes. They will help when you make your decisions.