And on to First
Tomorrow morning, I'll load Anna onto the bus as a first grader. Big stuff--or at least it seems that way.
Over the past couple of days, I've watched her tumble through an assortment of back-to-school emotions. Even though they have seemed pretty standard issue for a six-year-old heading into first grade, some of the worries she has expressed have stood out to me. Anna has typically moved through life boldly, spurred on by a fierce desire for independence, but the whole school thing--peers, teachers, academics--tends to attach an asterisk to that statement.
School has brought out her desire for acceptance in ways she hasn't shown anywhere else. It isn't that this is all bad; wanting to be accepted has been motivation to learn more about friendship, community, and filling others' emotional bank accounts. But it does tend to bubble up insecurities in odd places, too.
One of those insecurities popped up right before we left to go to Meet Your Teacher Night tonight. "Mom, what if she says she hates my hair and thinks it's ugly?" (The anti-curly-hair sentiment isn't new, but it seems to be getting worse now that the back part of her hair is settling into loose waves while the front still sprouts soft, unruly ringlets around her face.) I assured her that her teacher would say no such thing, and we spun the conversation into something silly before letting it drop. I pulled her hair up into a messy top bun and finished it off with a teal flower before we left the house.
At the school, it took a few seconds of coaxing and encouragement for Anna to actually walk into her new classroom. Once fully through the door, her teacher--one of those people who oozes kindness-- greeted her warmly and asked her name. "Anna," the teacher said smiling, "I love your beautiful curly hair."
Such a tiny thing, a tiny moment, but I watched those words of affirmation soak into Anna, and my mom heart soared.
I believe it's gonna be a good year.
Over the past couple of days, I've watched her tumble through an assortment of back-to-school emotions. Even though they have seemed pretty standard issue for a six-year-old heading into first grade, some of the worries she has expressed have stood out to me. Anna has typically moved through life boldly, spurred on by a fierce desire for independence, but the whole school thing--peers, teachers, academics--tends to attach an asterisk to that statement.
School has brought out her desire for acceptance in ways she hasn't shown anywhere else. It isn't that this is all bad; wanting to be accepted has been motivation to learn more about friendship, community, and filling others' emotional bank accounts. But it does tend to bubble up insecurities in odd places, too.
One of those insecurities popped up right before we left to go to Meet Your Teacher Night tonight. "Mom, what if she says she hates my hair and thinks it's ugly?" (The anti-curly-hair sentiment isn't new, but it seems to be getting worse now that the back part of her hair is settling into loose waves while the front still sprouts soft, unruly ringlets around her face.) I assured her that her teacher would say no such thing, and we spun the conversation into something silly before letting it drop. I pulled her hair up into a messy top bun and finished it off with a teal flower before we left the house.
At the school, it took a few seconds of coaxing and encouragement for Anna to actually walk into her new classroom. Once fully through the door, her teacher--one of those people who oozes kindness-- greeted her warmly and asked her name. "Anna," the teacher said smiling, "I love your beautiful curly hair."
Such a tiny thing, a tiny moment, but I watched those words of affirmation soak into Anna, and my mom heart soared.
I believe it's gonna be a good year.
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