Meltdown

In the first grade today we had three meltdowns. All over a worksheet where they had to write four words. Man, pan, van and can. They didn't want to do the worksheet, they wanted to color. Who could blame them? I'd rather color, too. But even though both the writing and coloring sheets were on the desk, it was time for writing. Not coloring. One child sobbed, "This is stupid!" Another one cried, "But I don't even want to do this!" The third one refused to speak at all, ran out of the classroom and away from the school where a police officer later found him and brought him back.

I felt wretched. Although it wasn't my idea to give them the worksheet, I was the one that had to make sure they did it. I was the unlucky one that had to tell them to push aside their coloring for a minute to write man, pan, van and can. I wanted to let them color and, more than that, I wanted to sit there next to them and color a few bunnies of my own. Although I was a bit frustrated, I understood. I wanted to cry, too. Just like Max. I wanted to pull on my hair and scream, "But I don't even want to do this!" just like little Adam. And I wanted to run away just like James. But not because of the worksheet.

They guessed that James ran home. He lives near the school. I imagine he just wanted his mom. I thought, "Run. Run to your mom while you still can. While it's still okay to just sit on your mom's lap and cry." The office called and called his house but nobody answered. His mom wasn't home. It broke my heart to picture little James pounding on his front door, crying for his mom with nobody there to open the door and hug him. Not having a mom there during those crucial moments is hard. I imagined him sitting on his front step crying and maybe for the first time realizing how small he was in a big and busy world.

Without mom, the now scared six-year-old had no other choice but to put up the white flag and come back to school. The police found him as he was walking up and they plopped him with his tear-stained face in the front office while they continued to try to call his mom. They couldn't send him back to class. When a kid runs from school he has to go home for the rest of the day. (Which really doesn't make sense. It's like rewarding a kid who steals gum with a pack of gum. It's what they wanted in the first place.) It was hours before they got a hold of her.

I just wanted to hug him and tell him that I knew what it felt like to be alone and scared. I know what it feels like when you just want your mom. Even though I never really had one. That front porch can be a scary place. Sometimes life is rough and you just don't want to write man, pan, van and can. Whether you don't know how or are scared you'll mess up or because you think it's stupid, or you just don't want to... it's all the same. That worksheet stinks! So, give your mom a hug if you still can, show that school work who's boss and then have a great time coloring your bunnies! I have no time for porches! No time!