Merry blah blah and Happy New blah. Too late for all that...
No time for a holiday recap, and frankly, you'd get better at a million other blogs. I do have a good story to tell about Xmas day (and following weekend) at the Mungus house, but I'll save it for the next post. I've got an issue and it ain't gonna wait.
I've got two sons. The younger is 3 years old. He's in pre-pre-school (next year pre-school, following year Kindergarten) and is a joy and a love. I've written of him before. Never have I seen a creature so trusting and unconditionally giving of himself. So innocent and full of joy. He's got this awesome devious side as well, which eases my concerns that the world will chew him up. He'll be fine. I am already sure.
My older son is at the ripe old age of 6 and in his fourth year of school (two years of pre-school, etc...). Last year was his first in our local public elementary school and our first to receive reports of concern from his teachers. "He is having trouble paying attention in class" and is sometimes "disruptive." Uh-oh. They started using the buzzwords every parent of a son (or any kid, I suppose) dreads. We met with the Kindergarten teacher last year and she assured us that although she had her "concerns," in all likelihood he would "grow into" the structure of school. But she did warn us that if he was behaving similarly in First grade, it would become a serious issue. "The expectations are raised at every grade change, and behavior evaluations become more stringent" she said.
So here we are in First grade. Hell, the year's 2/3 over... and THE NOTE has been sent home from the teacher: Little Mungus jr. "has had to be spoken to on several occasions over the past few days to calm down and focus on the activities of the class." Oh shit. They're diagnosing him.
Missus Mungus spent yesterday afternoon discussing this issue with a few other Moms outside waiting for the kids to come out. She spoke to five Moms. Three of them have put there kids on medication after "concerns" from the school. She was shocked as am I.
So what the fuck? First thought is: it's all that acid I ate in the early nineties coming back to haunt me. Now my kid is broken. The I look at these round peg in a round hole Moms and think, "there's no way she ever did acid or any other hard drug ever." No basis in fact that one, but I'm pretty sure it ain't that.
So is it something environmental? Town water supply tainted? Maybe it's like mold in the school or some shit? Because I refuse to believe that an entire generation has now evolved out of normalcy and must be drugged to assimilate and function.
Barring environmental causes, here's what I believe has happened: kids haven't evolved, teaching styles have. Back in the good old days of the forties and fifties, teachers were allowed some minor corporal punishment. Kids were scared of their teachers and didn't act out as a result. Thanks to the hippy dippy sixties, everyone said "hey man, relax. They're just kids. You can't go hitting kids... School should be a place where they find out who they are, man. They need to find their inner spirit and set it free..." Then the law suits started, school freaked out and now we're at a place where they are afraid to discipline at all. Geez, they're so afraid of getting sued for "emotional trauma" they don't even declare winners and losers during kids sports anymore. "Everyone wins because we all had FUN!!!" Shit.
My kid is a good kid. He listens (for the most part) at home and we can generally get him to do all the stuff we need him to do. And yes, sometimes he's a little scared of us. Not because we hit. We don't. But he knows when we say fucking do something, you better do it or there will be consequences (usually we just take away a favorite toy or some other deprivation of fun for a span of time).
The school is scared to discipline so they are drugging all the kids.
Let me end by making an admission: as a result of the note, my wife and I called our doctor. He has arranged for our son to be "evaluated." The facility that evaluates kids is so backlogged with requests that we were unable to get an appointment until mid April. It's a fucking epidemic.
In our minds, we dream that this evaluation will prove our son to be labeled "normal," like the last minute DNA evidence that shows up minutes before they pull the switch on the electric chair. Then we will have this document to prove to all the future teachers that yes, we have heard your concerns and our team of experts has assured us that it is your problem Mr. Education System, not ours.
My son's "keep off of drugs free" card has yet to arrive. Let's see if I have the balls to give you an update in a few months when the verdict comes.
Let's look at the eclipse!
2 days ago
2 comments:
Happy New Year, FM.
Unsurprisingly, I was one of those cute little buggers who always got letters home and report cards talking about daydreaming, poor attention and all that jazz in Primary School. I wasn't alone in that regard, there were quite a few kids who quite often were much happier mentally picturing life with a Transformer as a friend or creating GI Joe missions, and the teachers reactions were never to suggest drugging us (well, it was never there public reaction) but to ensure our attention by things like testing us to see we learnt, making us stay in class until work was finished or just getting increasingly louder.
Now though, it is easier to medicate than evolve. Instead of adapting a lesson plan to actually hold interest, the kid will be changed. This isn't true for all teachers, but you do have some around who would treat teaching as just another job, instead of something that actually does require flexibility.
The best teachers are those who know the difference between actual difficulties in learning and difficulties in motivation.
Of course, if he's been exploding frogs under little girls desks or doing the y-fronts only dance in front of the lunchladies, you are screwed a little.
And a Happy New Year to yourself, sir.
No, he has yet to get his hands on any small explosives (that may or may not be lying carelessly around the house). And really, his play is not terribly violent - certainly less so than mine at his age:
- The epic GI Joe battles, generally culminating in the defeat of COBRA or the Joes and the victor coordinating mass live burials in the back yard
- He Man and Skeletor with their axes and swords. I would pop off their arms when they were "severed" in battle. The limb often became a weapon itself and was quite effective when used to beat Beast Man down
My sons play revolves around Star Wars: The Clone Wars. He hasn't seen ANYTHING Star Wars in reality (apart from the commercials that pop up on Cartoon Network), but his interrogations of me into the Star Wars story line have led to some great imaginative play.
The latest recreation is the final battle between young Obi Wan and Anakin. Anakin is beaten and falls into lava to emerge as Darth Vader. In the same vein, he is fascinated by the concept that the Clone Troopers ultimately turn evil and become the Empire's Storm Troopers. It has crossed my mind that this type of fascination could become unhealthy if it becomes obsessive. Captain Rex of the Clone Troopers is his current favorite hero. His hero turns evil...
If you asked him six months ago what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would have said he wants to be a doctor. Ask him today and he'll say "I want to be a firefighter." Upon further investigation it turns out he only wants to be a firefighter because "they get to wear a mask."
A fascination with good guys who turn evil and an overwhelming desire to wear a mask for a profession? I am now convinced I am raising a super villain. This may be the subject of my next post.
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