Now that Ella has just a little over two weeks left of her kindergarten year, it seems like a good time for reflection. Overall, I'm glad we got her started in kindergarten this year. She's had a really wonderful teacher who has been patient and loving, and the larger school system has been a good one to be a part of. I thoroughly enjoy the other parents in Ella's class, and have enjoyed hanging out with them on field trips and class parties. I've been about as involved as I could possibly be as a parent in her class this year, and have volunteered to go on every field trip she's had this year, with the exception of one that Howie attended. I've helped out in the class at various times, and am hosting the end-of-the-year barbecue this Saturday for all the kindergarteners in Ella's class and their parents.
And yet...
And yet, I've been doing a lot of thinking about how Ella is doing now that the year is nearly over, and I'm observing some things in her that are making me sad. As everybody knows, public school systems feature a large amount of testing, even in kindergarten, and so she is constantly being measured and tested on her progress in reading and math. On one hand, its amazing--Ella has gone from being able to identify 5 or 6 letters at the beginning of kindergarten to being able to do some reading. She is also doing math, and has a very good handle on simple addition. The volumes of material that she has learned over the past year is staggering.
But, on the other hand, all of this testing and measuring is getting to her, I think. More and more, she is telling me that she's not good enough in one way or another. She tells me (often in tears, or nearly so) that everybody reads better than she does or that other kids get more 'good work' stickers than she does. I realize both of these could be exaggerations, but there is definitely an element of low self esteem in her generated by all of the comparisons of her ability, even at this early age.
Perhaps the worst incident occurred the other night. She got upset about some small thing at the end of the day, and ran up to her room sobbing and generally being hysterical. I let her be that way for a few minutes, and then headed up to talk to her about it. She didn't know I was upstairs, and I came upon her in her room repeating over and over again (between sobs) "I don't like myself, I don't like myself, I don't like myself". It totally broke my heart to hear this, and made me completely sick, because there is really no good reason for a 5-year old girl not to like herself.
She and I sat and talked about it, and all kinds of stuff came out...mostly about school. Part of her issues were about not feeling smart enough (!!), but she spent a lot of time talking about how school was really no fun. She said things that really resonated with me--there was no time for play, not enough time to draw and color and tell stories, that kids always had to stand in line and follow directions and they had to sit at their desks most of the day. Again, one can chalk some of this up to exaggeration, but a good amount of what she's saying really makes sense. The kid is only 5, and the things expected of kindergarteners, and the degree to which testing abilities is emphasized at age 5 (!!) is just appalling. I hate to see her be so strung out about it all. There will be plenty of time for that later in life.
And, I think what she's saying really resonates with me, as I'm somebody who has spent years and years in competitive academic environments, and continue to work in an incredibly competitive academic world, where you've got to watch your back at all times lest somebody take your idea or move into an area that you have staked out for yourself. I've grown to love this environment for some sick reason, but its not for the weak of heart, and I certainly don't wish this kind of competitiveness upon my 5-year old daughter.
I've been spending a good amount of time figuring out what to do to make Ella feel better. There is no quick solution that will make her feel better or enable her to deal with all of this better, so its more a matter of finding a long-term solution that will benefit her. I've got several ideas, and have actually considered other school systems that are a bit gentler on kids and emphasize the 'whole child' a bit more than the public system, but the school that I'm considering for her is in Amherst, and so largely depends on whether we can still manage to sell out house and transition up there in the next few months. We actually have a showing on Friday--our first in over eight weeks--so we're hoping something good comes out of that.
Its hard to know what to do. Seeing her sad makes me sad, but more just makes me angry that we can't just let our kids be kids anymore without forcing them to conform to standards that are generally out of their reach.