Can You Repeat That?
Recently my friend Sandra told me about her son Nate’s first day of kindergarten. She had done everything she could think of to prepare him. I had talked to her about gradually familiarizing him with the experience. They could begin by walking past the school and talking about what it would be like to go there. The next time, they could stop and play on the playground. After a while, they might see if the school was open, and walk through the halls and talk about what they saw and what he would do there, in the auditorium, the gym, the music room, the kindergarten. Just before school opened they could meet the teacher and see Nate’s classroom. They could buy school clothes and supplies together, make a schedule of what Nate needed to do in the morning, and practice laying out his clothes and putting on his shoes.
Sandra dutifully Nate prepared for the new experience. They bought a backpack and talked about reading books from the school library and bringing a book home in his backpack. She told him about all the new kids he would meet and how they could play after school at each other’s houses. When they heard that Nate’s teacher would be Mrs. Anderson, Sandra learned about her from other parents and told Nate that his teacher had a Scottie dog and two grown up sons, and drove a cool old car that she repaired herself. Nate and his mom even got to meet Mrs. Anderson the day before school started.
All the preparation paid off. Sandra walked Nate to the door of his classroom, where Mrs. Anderson was waiting to greet them. Mrs. Anderson showed Nate a cubby with his name on it, where he could put his backpack. Then Nate glanced around the room, decided what he wanted to play with, saw a friend from summer art camp, and said, “Bye!” to his mom over his shoulder as he headed over to say hello.
In a way, Nate’s mom was startled, even hurt, that he’d separated from her so easily. Then she decided she was relieved. Was this really going to be so simple?
Apparently so. Nate came home and said the teacher read the class a book called Dinosaurs Beware that was really funny. Nate had drawn a picture of one of the dinosaurs going down a slide headfirst. They had eaten tiny graham crackers. They had had partners and walked around the school. They met the gym teacher Mr. Conway. “School was good,” Nate said. “I liked it.”
So his mom felt upbeat when she woke him the next morning with a cheery “Time to jump out of bed and go to school!”
Nate sat up and gaped at her, absolutely astonished. “Again?” he said.
I loved Sandra’s story because Nate’s “Again?” puts the emphasis right where it belongs—on establishing a rhythm, and making a challenge easier through familiarity and repetition. In planning, adults focus on unique events, like the first day of school, but success actually depends on a matter-of-fact, day-in-day-out establishment of habits that carry a child through, on good days and bad days. This may sound strange coming from me, because I often talk about creating a learning environment uniquely tailored to a child’s needs, but that doesn’t mean that everything is up to the child. Children also need to learn that some things in life don’t depend on how you feel about them or what you want, they just have to get done.
For that reason, it’s vital to create good routines, because making decisions afresh each day is hard. Doing what you’ve always done is much easier. That’s why Sandra’s creating a framework of familiarity and good habits for Nate will make all the difference.