Dear Moms and Dads of Little Boys,
In three short weeks, my older son will graduate from college with honors. He’ll then take some time off to travel before starting a job with a six-figure salary.
Eighteen years ago when Max was in preschool, though, his teacher didn’t forecast such a promising future for him. In fact, based on what she insinuated to me, she thought my son would surely be in a prison cell, homeless on the street, or penned up in a mental institution at this juncture in life.
Her list of concerns about him (she always used that politically correct term) grew exponentially as the school year progressed.
They included the following: he couldn’t stay in his seat, he didn’t line up when called, he didn’t hold his crayon correctly, he didn’t like to do craft projects, he didn’t share toys in the sandbox, he interrupted during storytime, he didn’t enjoy practicing for their winter performance, and he showed no interest in learning how to write his name.
Horror of horrors! Max was displaying the behaviors of a typical 4-year-old boy!
The Preschool to Prison Pipeline
Yet, in many ways Max was indeed a horror in the early childhood education environment that’s emerged in the past 20 years — one in which academic preparation for kindergarten is the be-all and end-all.
He was indeed a problem for this young, inexperienced teacher who was under enormous pressure to get her class ready for elementary school.
What I didn’t know at that time but certainly do now is that many little boys (especially black and brown ones) are treated wretchedly at preschools in the U.S.
Even as a middle-class white woman in the suburbs, I saw firsthand that the preschool to prison pipeline is indeed a real thing.
Because I was a stay-at-home parent with options, though, I was able to keep my son out of the pipeline but not every mother is so fortunate.
A Plethora of Concerns
Parents like me are told there’s something terribly wrong with our sons when, in reality, they’re perfectly normal. They’re labeled hyperactive, uncooperative, challenging, anti-social,unfocused, incorrigible, impulsive, and developmentally delayed.
Today, 18 years after my 4-year-old son was designated as immature by his preschool teacher, I can look back and say how preposterous that was.
Yet, at the time, her diagnosis of my son caused me to have sleepless nights when my mind raced with worries about his future.
My saving grace through this ordeal was that I was a teacher myself (although it’s quite different when the child under the microscope is your own). Because of my education and experience, I eventually pushed back against this woman’s foolishness and removed Max from her class.
Our Boys Are Not the Problem; Preschool Is
Yet, what about all the little boys who remain with teachers like her, being made to believe they’re somehow defective at 4-years-old? What about all the little boys whose first experience with formal education is a dreadful one so they never develop a love of learning and instead grow to despise school?
Almost two decades have transpired since I removed Max from preschool, waiting until kindergarten for him to resume his formal education.
Today, my question as a mother and teacher is simply this: Why was my son deemed to be defective in preschool when he thrived academically and socially in his subsequent 17 years of education?
In my opinion, my son had never been the problem at preschool. Rather, his preschool had always been the problem.
The Trauma of Hearing Your Child Is Defective
My son’s teacher told me she wanted to have a meeting after class. I was thrilled about the get-together, knowing I’d hear all kinds of superlatives about “my angel boy.” I was convinced she’d rave about his sweet, gentle nature, his cooperative manner, and his love of books.
There were no adult chairs in the classroom except her own so I sat “criss-cross applesauce” on the floor.
When the teacher started to detail her many concerns about my son, she was careful to use I messages: “I’m concerned Max is immature and, as such, is struggling with our curriculum. I’m concerned this group isn’t a good fit and he’d do better in the 3-year-old class. I’m concerned he has developmental delays so I urge you to speak with your pediatrician. I’m concerned that his fine and gross motor skills are underdeveloped…”
As she continued to list all the issues she had with my 4-year-old son, I shut down and zoned out. It was impossible to hear one more negative thing about this little boy I loved so dearly.
He Just Needed More Time
It turns out all of her concerns about Max were unfounded.
Our pediatrician — a warm, wise, and wonderful woman in her 50s with three grown children — explained that little kids develop at their own rates and there was no reason to be alarmed. She said there’s a wide range in which preschoolers acquire various skills and that there was no advantage in acquiring them early.
My son would get there. He just needed more time.
As for Max not sharing toys in the sandbox, she explained that kids don’t understand the value of sharing until they’re 6 or 7. When they’re older, they appreciate the role it plays in building friendships and maintaining good relationships. Up until that point, they share because adults tell them to do so.
Most significantly, our pediatrician told me to relax and enjoy my son just as he was. She told me to let him be a kid and not rush him into growing up any faster or getting smarter any quicker.
It was sound advice and exactly what I needed to hear.
Our Boys Are Alright
Since that time, I’ve met many other mothers who had similar experiences with their sons at preschool — moms who were told there was something wrong with their boys when there wasn’t.
We realized our boys had always been alright. The problem was a society that wants kids to grow up too fast.
It wants kids who perform and produce at preschool rather than play and pretend.
Our sons, though, didn’t need to be judged, assessed, nitpicked, and labeled so early in life.
They didn’t need someone to teach them how to write their names. They didn’t need to learn how to graph the different colors of M&M’s in a bag. They didn’t need to be able to count to 100 by 1’s, 5’s, and 10s. They didn’t need to be capable of reciting the days of the week in English and Spanish.
Instead, they needed adults to advocate for their right to play: to build skyscrapers with blocks, to pretend they were firefighters racing to a burning house on their tricycles, to watch worms wiggle in the compost bin, and to learn how to get along with each other.
Final Thoughts
Today, as Max gets ready to graduate, I realize how fast it all went. With the benefit of hindsight, I see there was never any reason to rush it. With all the years of education he had, there was never a reason to push academics at preschool.
That should be a magic year to play, pretend, explore, and make friends.
I’m sure his teacher eventually came to the same conclusion after she had more years under her belt. She surely came to realize that little kids need to be active learners, not sitting still while teachers stuff them with information.
Unfortunately, that kind of wisdom will prevent her from keeping a job in early childhood education in today’s climate.
Sadly, the knowledgeable ones have left. They couldn’t tolerate pushing academics onto little kids, knowing how wrong it was.
Sincerely,
Max’s Mom
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Previously Published on Medium
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What happened to this child underlines the need to transform early childhood education. The Happiest Preschool: A Manual for teachers advocates just that. In the first place it offers a revision of what are developmentally appropriate expectations. For example, when expectations of preschoolers are age-appropriate preschoolers are not expected to share, to wait patiently, to sit quietly in groups, to learn subjects through worksheets and mandated exercises, or to be silent during transitions. Many preschoolers who are diagnosed with mental illness and, even, expelled from preschools would perform within a normal range if they weren’t burdened by age-inappropriate requirements. For… Read more »