Bad Boys

Bad. Bad, bad, bad little boys.

Why do I say this? Why, because they're bad, of course!!

I have several small Kindergarten boys in my program.
Every single one of them is adorable. All of them are bright, say funny things, run when they should be walking, push each other around when it's not safe, spill their drinks on the snack table, snort crumbs when they laugh at each other, hook their feet under the table and lean waaaay back while they're supposed to be eating their snacks and do other 'bad' things.

How do I know they're bad? Because most of them have told me, shamefacedly, that, "I was bad in school today."

In my little group, I have more than one little boy who is on a school-administered behavior modification plan. This consists of checking in every morning with whatever adult they're assigned to, and deciding together how many points the child wants to earn for the day. There are three faces for each behavioral goal, a smile, a neutral face and a frown. Two points are awarded for a smile, one point for a neutral and zero for the frowny face. Goals are sort of non-specific, so one can really use them against the kid. Subjective rather than objective. "Be responsible."

What does that mean, exactly?

And 'respectful'. What parent doesn't want their child to be considered respectful? I know from my own experience that I felt any deviation from being 'good' while Matt was in school was a direct reflection on my parenting, and therefore on me, personally.

Do you know any parents who don't want their child to be 'good'?

So these non-specific expectations, which can be wildly misinterpreted if any adult wants to arbitrarily do so, are in front of the child bad boy all day long.

He knows that he will fail at the start of every school day.
It only remains to be seen as to what degree he will fail.

All day long, these very bad little boys take that sheet of paper with them everywhere. If they go to music class, the music teacher has to circle one of the faces to let the world know how little Billy behaved. Library. Gym. Any other place the child goes during the day. Sometimes they forget their paper somewhere, which earns them a frown in one of the 'be responsible' spaces.

At the end of the day, they take the sheet to the adult who helped them fill it out at the beginning of the day. That adult then signs off on the paper, the child tucks it in his backpack (it's always a boy, or at least 99% of the time it's a boy) and then takes it to his mom or dad for their approval.

When parents come to pick up their bad boy from my program, sometimes that piece of bright yellow paper with the little faces on it is the basis of their first interaction. They've been apart all day long, and the parent is asking to see that paper before he or she greets the child. The child is nervous, more so if he's been bad all day long. And that piece of paper sets the tone for the whole evening.

Understand that I'm not blaming the parents for this. We are conditioned to believe that schooling is a good thing for children. That learning to follow orders, no matter how unreasonable, is expected. Without argument. I was one of those parents.

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From this post (worth reading if you don't know our story) this: From that point on, Ms. Pedagogue had her eye on him. I had questioned her teaching skills and she wasn’t about to let me forget. Worse, she was taking it out on him in subtle little ways. Every day, she walked out with him after school and listed all the things he had done wrong.
"Matt made inappropriate noises in the hallway."
"Matt spoke out of turn in class!"
"Matt was play fighting on the playground!" All of those things were normal kid behaviors, and I was embarrassed about them!
We disciplined him for those things.
"Matt, you can’t act up at school. Didn’t we teach you better manners?"
"No video games for YOU today".
"No Legos for a week."
I’m cringing as I type this. Makes me feel like shit.
Of course, his behavior ‘worsened.’
We were making ourselves sick over the situation.

We would lie awake at night and discuss ways to make him behave at school. It was ugly. We got up in the morning and served him a dose of ‘Straighten up your act." along with his breakfast. He went to school and was squelched all day long. I was waiting to pounce the moment he walked out the door of the school, and the moment his dad came home from work, we rehashed the entire day.

Then, during one of our night conversations in about February of that school year, we realized he didn’t have anywhere he felt safe! Nowhere for him to be himself.

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Matt didn't have a little piece of paper to carry around with him all day, but I was waiting to judge him every afternoon and all he wanted was to make us happy.
I sincerely regret it, of course. I have a apologized to my son for allowing school to rule our existence for that period of time, and of course hindsight is a magnificent view of what went wrong.

I'm glad I didn't send Lyssa.

One of my little guys brought his paper to me last week.
He had a frowny on his own little face.

Stood next to me, holding his yellow sheet of paper and waited until I'd ended my afternoon check-in with the office. "I have all my weasels, we're clear, have a great afternoon."

Then I turned my attention to him.
"What's up, Kevin?"

In answer, he handed me his paper.

There were three frowns circled, one for morning, one for midday and one for afternoon. All were from the 'be respectful' category.

Well I'm not going to tell him he didn't do well or that he's bad. I asked him instead, "What does this mean?"

With his big brown eyes welling up, he said, "I tried to be very good today but it's SO HARD!"

I am not about to tell a kid that he failed. Or that he should have tried harder. I know for certain in this case that the child's mother has agreed to the behavior plan, but thinks that it's stupid and does NOT care how well he does on the plan, only that he gives his best efforts in school.

So I agreed with him that it's hard to do everything the way people want you to. I told him that none of us are perfect all the time, and that what really matters is trying to do your best. That some days are harder than others.

He said, "I don't want to be a bad kid."

I told him that he is not, in any way, bad. That we all mess up. Even grown ups make mistakes. And that I know his mom just wants him to do the best he can, and that I know she's proud of him.

This is a five year old boy. Wiggling in class, talking out of turn, running in the hallway, bashing into his friends while they wait in line, pushing each other around, scribbling on someone else's paper, saying inappropriate words... just pick one or three... those things are typical indicators of being a child. At five years old, it is odd when a kid doesn't do those things.

I also find it interesting, and not in a good way, that most of the children on behavior plans are boys.

Is there no one who looks at the situation instead of the child? No one who says, hm, perhaps we are expecting something from this child that he is not able to do? No one who says, could it possibly be the environment rather than the little boy that's the issue?

It's aggravating.

Worth mentioning... when the kids are indulging in unsafe or inappropriate behaviors, I do remind them. Over and over. I want them to be unharmed when their parents arrive to pick them up. I want them to think about what they're doing while they're leaning out backward from the snack table. I want them to use appropriate words and refrain from using the drill they made from K'nex to poke at another child's private parts.

But it's not a reason for punishment or anger. It's just children doing childish things. I see my function as reminding them. As many times as necessary until they start to get it. Until their mental growth starts to catch up with them. Is it annoying? Yes. Is it sometimes enough to make me want to bang my head on the table? Again, yes.

But to make their infractions the focus of the time we spend together?
No.

And I will never tell a child that he is bad.
What the hell kind of message is that?