The Preschool Teacher

At the end of the summer, I took my girls and mom to a carnival the local school district put on to celebrate the upcoming school year. There were many booths, giveaways, performances, free food, and free backpacks for all the children.

We all were having a great time. I had just finished a singing competition (cause, why not), and had gone to find my children in the food line. I know you’re all wondering… but no, I didn’t win the competition; it was based on cheers. Never a great way to determine a winner. Not that I was bothered by it; it was just fun to get up and sing. And the boy that won was so darling and brave. But I digress.

As the girls and I were looking for a place to sit and eat, a smiling gentleman approached me with a woman following close behind, each holding stacks of papers. As he approached he said, “Hello, I noticed you and…,” then he trailed off, not entirely knowing how to phrase all my many beautiful girls. He could have said, “…you seem to have your hands full…,” or “…your little ducklings.” I’m not picky.

Instead he started straight in on his sales pitch: “We are in charge of a program for preschoolers. It’s a program for children ages three to six.” Straightforward and to the point. As a busy mom, I appreciate that. Then he attempted to hand me a packet of papers. I had heard this all before, though, so I gently declined, and replied, “Thank you so much. I am actually a stay-at-home mom, and I prefer to teach my children at home before they enter kindergarten. But thank you for the information.”

At this point the man’s face literally dropped, along with any attempt at friendliness. He looked downright offended, like I had just spit on his shoe. He said something dismissive like, “Well, think about it,” and walked away.

As he left, the woman who came with him started to talk to me. Apparently she remembered me from high school. I had a short conversation with her about high school, which was fun. Then, just as we finished our conversation, the gentleman- I later found out is some sort of superintendent for the school district- came back and, somewhat gruffly, said, “We’re just trying to help you out.” Interesting. “Thanks, I appreciate the thought,” I replied, as he walked off to recruit more families.

I have been mulling over what this man said. Help me out? He knows nothing about me or my family, and he automatically assumed I need help. Why? What is the train of thought that leads someone to feel that children belong in preschool instead of with their mother?

I guess I have so many children that it could stand to reason that I must need places to send them all so that I’m not overwhelmed. Or perhaps, to him, a woman staying home with her children is a waste of time; maybe he thinks I should be contributing to society in a more substantial way, rather than teaching my own children. Maybe his assumption is that children who are not taught in a classroom with a certified teacher will never reach their full academic potential, and be doomed to forever struggle in school.

According to my mom, he might have thought I was a teen pregnancy case, because I have four young children and I look too young to have that many… in which case, I am slightly flattered. It probably didn’t help that I looked like a single mom, because it was a Saturday and Ben was working at the time.

Regardless of his motivation, I’d like to address these concerns. Honestly, I feel bad for this man. He has obviously experienced a different reality than I have. He has likely seen countless examples of negligence, ignorance and need. The school district where we reside has many illegal immigrants, parents who are illiterate or uneducated, many parents work several jobs just to make ends meet, and many others who can’t speak English. Because of this, too many children enter kindergarten ill prepared for school. Often these children begin without knowing basics like color names, or the letters of the alphabet (much less the sounds the letters make). I can see why this man is so passionate about the program.

And don’t get me wrong, if I were in different circumstances, I could definitely benefit from it. If I had a child that needed additional support that I couldn’t provide (whether that were the structure of a classroom, social interaction, language support, a disability, or whatever else as a parent I deem necessary), or if I didn’t speak the native language, struggled with health, had a full-time job, had an only child or a whole host of other reasons. I am so glad these programs are available to support parents.

And yet… what I feel my children need more than anything… is me. Why is that something to be looked down on? Isn’t it my job as a parent to determine what my children need, and then provide it?

My children need someone who will sit and read with them, sometimes the same book over and over again. Someone who will teach them to navigate the library on their own. Someone to teach them to use a computer. They need the freedom to have unstructured play. They need the time to learn to be helpers around the house. They need to learn to be respectful. They need to develop bonds of friendship.

Could they get those things in school? Sure. There are some great preschool teachers out there. But it’s simply something that I would rather do for my children than outsource it to a stranger, no matter how wonderful they may be. They can get everything they need at home, too. They are still learning how the world works. They’re still being taught what is important. It’s a critical time in their lives, a time that will shape them for the rest of their lives; who could possibly be better to provide that for them than me?

Yes, I do have many children. And yet, I do my best to teach each of them individually. I not only teach them to use scissors and hold pencils and know their letters and numbers. I also teach them how to cook. I teach them how to identify plants. I teach them to grow vegetables from seeds. I teach them about helping others. I teach them to sew.

I teach them history, science, geography, music, art. Tonight we had a great conversation about the French Revolution. We compost. We recycle. We read mountains of books. They are constantly learning with a teacher who loves them totally. And so I ask again, who could be a better teacher for them?

A certification and degree do not a perfect teacher make. Jess has had many wonderful teachers, and I am so grateful for them. She enjoyed school, for the most part, when we lived in Logan. She would come home talking about the things that she’d learned in class.

Her teachers assigned reports where she could write about the things that she was interested in. When she read “The Tale of Despereux,” she came home wanting to discuss the concept of forgiveness; we were then able to help supplement her education at home through our own conversations. We also took her on “field trips.”

However, since moving here, she has come home telling me about the bullies, the fact that the school work is too easy, and about the many movies she watched in class. The conversations we have had were not of the same caliber. She watched at least 10 full length movies between February and May. And no… they had nothing to do with what they were learning. The movies were played so the teacher could pick up her child from school or as a reward for the class doing their math work silently (because apparently that wasn’t already a reasonable expectation).

That particular teacher would tell the class that they were a horrible class. She had several children that she didn’t know what to do with who would constantly disrupt the instruction for the rest of the class. She taught Jess math that she knew before she entered kindergarten, and refused to tailor the learning to her abilities.

Granted… I know not all teachers are going to be “Teacher of the Year.” And yet… there are certainly those, like this one, who give the good teachers a bad name. And knowing those kinds of teachers are out there, I don’t understand why sending my child to a certified teacher is just assumed to be the best thing for them. I have a feeling that sending Jess back to that school would have been detrimental to her education, even if she were being taught by someone with a teaching degree.

Liz is entering kinder this year knowing how to count to one hundred, and knowing how to read. She has a better vocabulary than anyone expects from a five year old (she basically is Fancy Nancy). She also knows how to treat people with respect, how to bake scones, how to identify a succulent plant, and so much more. How is she deprived? How is she hindered? She never went to a public preschool.

Now… one could argue that my time would be better spent contributing to the economy and society rather than draining it of it’s resources. This is actually a pretty strong argument. I graduated high school and went on to a four year university. I was given government grants to help me acquire this further education. I studied music therapy and loved it. I believed my degree would be helpful to society.

And yet, I left my degree unfinished to pursue something I deemed more worthy of my time and energy. I left it to become a full-time teacher and mentor to my own beautiful children. Was that a waste of government resources?

Then I went on to have four beautiful children… all girls, whom I hope will choose someday to become full-time mothers as well. Is their education also a waste of resources? Are their lives destined to be “wasted” too?

No! Education is never a waste of resources. No matter what someone’s decisions lead them to. The only waste is when someone is given an education but refuses to learn. We are meant to progress, always. Educated people improve their surroundings, regardless of their career choice.

I believe that my purpose comes from God. I have felt His approval with my decision to be a mother. I also believe we were meant to have eternal families. So, if the purpose of life to this man was everyone having successful careers and many possessions then, yes, to him, I probably am a waste of resources and a drain on society.

The sad thing is that no matter what I say here in this post… there will be those people who will feel like the choice to be a stay-at-home mom is a selfish choice. Regardless… I try my hardest to not waste my time, nor my children’s. I relentlessly try to be a righteous and focused mother. And as I see how wonderful my children are, I don’t know how anyone can think that they have been a waste of time.

I haven’t felt that my time has been wasted. What’s more… I continue to improve my mind every day. I have been focusing on reading classic novels because I feel like they have influenced much of society and because I enjoy the lessons I learn from them. Ben and I have political and philosophical discussions on a consistent basis. I know where to go when I need answers. I know how to study and memorize. I have learned how to value learning. Isn’t that worth something?

Sometimes the right choice is not the easy one. I have noticed many people, especially in California, treat children like a burden. They are not! They are, very literally, the future. I love spending time with mine. They make me laugh so hard.

Don’t get me wrong, they are a lot of work. There are days when I feel like my house will never be clean again. It seems as if the kids run full speed from room to room picking up one thing and depositing it in another room. And… well, I don’t run as fast.

And yet, I chose to have each and every one of them. I want them here. Call me selfish… but I want to keep them at home while I can. I am so grateful for this time with them. And to that superintendent, and anyone like him who has not known the great good that can come from it, I just want you to know: being a deliberate and attentive stay-at-home mother is not something to be offended by… it is something to celebrate.