At the door of his classroom, ATOM's good friend, HR, a little boy with a similar spirit, meets him with a smile and a super-big hug. I sign him in and leave. Three hours later, the baby and I make the trek back to the school and pick him up. On the walk back home we observe and discuss our surroundings. ATOM is learning the alphabet, so we practice reading the license plates of the cars parked on the street. (We live at the top of a steep hill, so this also helps to slow our walk down enough for me to make it to the top without huffing and puffing. He recently told me, "Mommy, I like it when we practice (reading.)" Darn near made me cry!) And if his behavior during the walk home has warranted it (e.g., holding my hand when we cross the street without a fuss) we also make a quick stop at the neighborhood laundromat to visit our neighbor who runs the place. (It doesn't hurt that she has a rather large bowl of candy!)
While I am very happy with our decision to send him to the school, I didn't start out feeling so optimistic about the school. When I went for the required classroom visit, I noticed not one African-American child, and saw only a few other children of color. (I happen to hate the term "...of color" but it seems to get the message across, so for now, I use it. When I figure out something better, I'll let you know.) I also did not notice any teachers of color. We live in one of the most ethnically diverse cities in the United States, and our neighborhood is one of the most diverse in our city. I like to joke that going to the neighborhood playground is like attending a meeting of the United Nations. So the fact that the school had very little diversity raised my Mama Warning Flag. I'm from the Deep South, and based on my personal experiences living and teaching there, I know that some schools don't value or want diversity; I wasn't sure if this school happened to be one of those places. During my visit, I talked to the director about my concerns. She explained that the composition of the school changes from year-to-year, but that there was "hidden" diversity that I couldn't or didn't see, including bi-racial children, teachers who were married to people of color, and other markers of diversity. She was passionate and compassionate enough to convince me to give the school a chance.
Even though ATOM's only one of four Black children in the morning program, and only one of two in his class, I have been very happy with how the teachers and staff have treated and responded to him. ATOM is very "busy" and "spirited." He's strong willed, super-inquisitive, and emotionally demanding (in other words, definitely *my* child.) He struggles with transitions between activities. For the first four weeks, he resisted circle time, and doing anything that he didn't want to do. I was horrified to hear his screams of "NOOO" as I entered the yard of his classroom. I worried (and truth-be-told still worry) about him being labeled as a problem of some sort. I am frequently known to say "my child will not be criminalized!"
But his teachers were totally on top of things. They never said anything negative about him. They let me know that he was struggling with transitions and assured me that his behavior was developmentally appropriate. They were firm, yet patient with him. They were and are everything that I could want. The other parents have been kind and gracious. We were invited to a recent holiday party, and have had a play date. ATOM loves his school. He loves wearing t-shirts emblazoned with the school's logo. Of course, no institution is perfect, but I have no major concerns. I am actually happy.
Of course, it's still early in the school year, but I am hopeful that the rest of the year will be great. As we turn our attention toward the future-- the elementary school years, I hope and pray that things go at least as well, if not better than his experience at the The Very Caucasian Preschool.
*My dad's s nickname. It's said that he has atomic energy.
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