I do believe, that the end of kindergarten may be harder
than the start of kindergarten.
On the first day, he looked so small. So scared. And so
alone. I was worried if he’d get lost, miss me, have any friends, feel scared,
or just get lost in the shuffle. I worried that the teacher would not look at
him and see the amazing child I had presented to the school but just another
face.
As the year progressed, I was clearly wrong. The teacher saw
that amazing child. Underneath the hyperactivity that often found him out of
his seat and on “the stoplight”. His amazing vocabulary and outgoing
personality that manifested its way into many classroom disruptions and talking
out of turn. And his level of excitement to be there and desire to learn
everything which often appeared as impulsive blurting. There were hands to
yourself issues, still are. We’re working on appropriate responses in
situations where put downs or shoves have been hurled his way. He’s a boy. He’s
six. He’ll get it. It’s still frustrating.
But, through it all, I believe the teacher was able to see
what I’ve seen since the first time I met my son 6 years ago – he is brilliant.
And smart and most certainly headed places. She stuck by his side and that of
me and his father through this year. Offering lessons of both academic and life
value to him. Offering counsel and encouragement to two tired parents. But
ultimately, becoming a part of his “Team”. A part of our team.
And now the year is coming to an end. And his spot in room
302 will no longer be his. The team we have built and worked with will change.
And the person we have grown to trust and love with one of the most important
people in our lives will shift her attention to new little spirits needing
guidance. With his food allergies on top of everything else, we have trusted
his life in her hands and she’s been as vigilant as we would have been.
The last day of kindergarten is the hardest because he is
not my little guy anymore. He’s a “grader”. An old pro at school, no longer my
sweet little child exploring what the big kids do. And we’re left facing a new
worry and reality about the new school year and the new teacher, longing to
bring this year’s teacher along to first grade for our comfort.
I’ve already cried more at the end than I did at the start.
I’m proud of what my son accomplished. I’m proud of where he going. I’m
thankful for an amazing teacher who has become such a profound influence on him
and supportive cheerleader for me along the way.
Summer vacation isn’t just about kids getting a break. It’s
for mothers to come to terms with their children getting older and prepare for
embracing their new teammate come fall.
Thank you Mrs. Y. My son is a better kid and will be a
better man for all you’ve done and endured this school year.
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