It’s difficult when your beliefs as a parent begin to collide with those of your profession. In school, I tell students who complain about teachers that they have to learn to get along with people they don’t like; it’s a part of life. As a parent, well, I’m not so sure.
Now, I loved Robbie’s teacher. I thought she was fantastic and really enjoyed speaking with her. Maybe that’s why I hesitated to request a move. Robbie needed to learn how to deal with a variety of people. And, given his minimal experience in school, the behavior had to be coming from him. He would behave that way in any class. Right?
Not so much. After signing well over ten incident reports in three weeks, I wasn’t so sure. In fact, I was growing concerned that Robbie wasn’t being caught before he did something. If he didn’t know what he was about to do wrong, how could he know when to correct it? It seemed like we were in a vicious cycle, and, other than the kids on the receiving end, Robbie was going to be the real victim.
As a teacher, I would encourage him to figure it out (I know; he’s only three). As a parent, I was terrified my child would be labeled a troublemaker and would then do the only thing he could: live up to the label. I couldn’t let that happen.
It was a chance conversation. And luck had it that there was an opening in the other three-year-old room. So, last week, Robbie started spending a few hours every day with Mr. Alex. Amazingly, there were no incident reports. And this week? He started full time. Still no incident reports and no accidents. That’s right! Mr. Alex put Robbie in underwear instead of a diaper, and Robbie didn’t have any accidents. Who knew? Now if only we can keep it up!