As I was doing my yard work this morning, one of the things that
makes me happy, my mind was free to wonder and contemplate. As I was
wrapping up with blowing off the sidewalks, thinking about my own children, my
thoughts arrived at a profound awareness of my children growing into young
adults. I feel helpless.
I took a walk down memory lane of a time
when my kids were babies and toddlers. I was so important to them.
They listened and actually believed me (most of the time) when I warned
them of dangers. They listened to me and learned from me. As they would
venture out into the backyard, I was there. I watched them take a step
and stumble to the ground, and I could help them. I caught them or picked
them up tending to boo boos, doctoring their feelings by hugging them until
they were happy or sticking a Band-Aid on a skinned knee. Even as they
ventured further when they grew a little older, I could help! I was
always there with them. IT was so SIMPLE when they were young
children. I tried to teach them to become independent and make good
choices. Helping them understand compassion and right from wrong. I
encouraged and nurtured them on their journey as they grew into adults.
As they transformed into teens, it got a
little more complicated. They were no longer in the backyard. They
took their journey into the forest, and they started becoming independent,
which is what I wanted right? It was so scary. The
realization of the impact of their mistakes could have pretty severe consequences
was real.. Like any good parent, I tried to help. I tried to keep them on
the path I wanted them to take.
Now my children are legal adults. My
daughter is 23, and my son is 20. They are both great kids, but they also
have so much growing up ahead. Not only does this feel like being in the
middle of the wilderness, it is like six days off the beaten path with no
civilization within hundreds of miles. It is very tricky supporting them
now. They tell me, "I'm an adult now!" My brain takes me
back to that 1986 hit, "I'm an Adult Now," from The Pursuit of
Happiness.
Sending your son off to college is scary.
When he chooses not not attend classes the first semester , it was an
easy decision to make him come home and grow up a little more, but watching him
struggle to find himself and what he wants out of life is not so easy. My
daughter is renting that first nice town home, but I worry about her
biting off more than she can handle financially and about her safety!
This is not easy - not for this helicopter mom. It is difficult to
sit back and allow each of them to continue on their hike through life without
a guide. I am there to support and try to guide them, , but they just are
not always willing to follow my guidance or heed to cautions or paths I
propose.
The thought of my children not always
listening to my reasonable advice makes me think about my experience at Harvard
last month. One of the presenters, Samuel Betances, said something that made a
lasting impression on me. It is not that I didn't realize it before, but
I think how he said it is what really stuck with me. "You can't
teach a student unless they give you permission to teach him/her." That is
so true with my kids. I have to have their permission to give advice
before they will actually take it and use it. It is so real with
students in the classroom. Wanting to help my children avoid the mistakes or
paths we have already tread upon that may have caused great grief and struggle
is what parents desire to do. The thing we often forget is that we
learn from our mistakes. I know learn through mine, and I need to allow
my kids to learn from theirs. I need to give them permission to take
their own path, which may be one less traveled or less desirable. I will
still be the guide that shouts, "Over here, "This Way!"
or "Watch Out!" My only hope is that the mistakes they learn
from will not cost them too much or take them down too treacherous a path
falling off a cliff that they can't climb up.
This is something I hope to help parents
to understand at school. Allow your children to learn from their
mistakes. The mistakes they make now in elementary school for the most
part have minimal consequences. Not completing projects and homework and
suffering the consequences of their actions will hopefully help them to become
more organized and responsible. Feeling disappointment for not making a
team or earning merits when they have not shown enough effort has natural
consequences. Allowing students to learn from their mistakes and not
repeat them in the classroom is valuable as well. Teachers need to not
rush to just give answers to kids for the sake of time, but guide them into
solving problems on their own which will have everlasting effects on their ability to
be ready for the future.
As a parent, I have fallen into the
pitfalls that so many parents get trapped in as well. I sometimes tried
to help and "fix" it. Every parent wants their child to get
that A or make that team. When our child does not use their time wisely,
we just really help them get the project complete. We end of THINKING for them.
This train of thought counteracts with the end goal of helping them
become independent adults. When we allow kids to learn and grow with guidance,
help to show them the dangers ahead, they will learn and grow into adults that
are expertly trained to be a guide for themselves and will have the ability to
lead others out of the wilderness!
These thoughts are entangled with our
theme at Curtis Elementary this year. We take intelligent risks, to help
our students to be future ready and to thrive in the world. We take the
road less traveled at times; not because it is a shortcut or easy. Often
times it is extremely difficult. We choose that path because it is what
is best for kids! As an educator and principal of Curtis Elementary, I
want to lead my staff, students, and parents to remembering that is alright to
take risks in learning. It will not always be easy, but well worth the
reward. My closing thoughts are in the poem, "Road Not Taken"
by Robert Frost. Let's take the road less traveled - it could make
all the difference!
The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost: http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html
