Conversations With My Son on the Eve of Kindergarten
My baby started kindergarten recently. It’s the end of an era for our family, and I’ve been a little emotional.
He’s ready, I know. And he’ll do fine. But he’s still a bit nervous.
The fact that one of his best friends will be in his class is a huge comfort to all of us! And of course, we know the school and his teachers already and couldn’t be happier about either.
But the fact remains. My not-quite-five-year-old will spend 6 hours a day in a relatively unfamiliar environment being spoken to in a language he doesn’t understand.
He knows this. He’s not sure how he feels about it.
Last week the two of us sat down to watch Speaking in Tongues together. He took it in, despite his tender age. His brother’s school—now his school—is featured. There are lots of familiar faces. He certainly got a sneak preview of what his coming year might be like.
But when he watched the scene of the Cantonese kindergarten class being led through backpack protocol by their teacher on the first day, he froze.
“How do you feel about that?” I asked.
“Not good,” he said in a small voice.
I swallowed hard. This scene is always touching: tiny little kindergarteners in a big, unfamiliar school bewildered by the speech of the only adult in the room. But here I was imagining my own shy little guy—whose name begins with “A”, like Alex in the film, the first student to go before the class and be led through the backpack drill—going through the same thing. Ouch. Will he be able to handle it?
Please don’t let him be one of those kids who cries at drop-off!
“Will you be a teacher in my class sometimes?” he asked.
He’s been through two years of co-op preschool. That means he saw me or his dad in his classroom at least one morning a week for the three days per week he attended.
“Sometimes I’ll be there,” I said. “But I won’t really be a teacher, and I can’t come at first.”
Our kindergarten teachers welcome parent volunteering, but if we can’t speak Mandarin, our tasks are limited to cutting and stapling in the back of the room, and chaperoning the occasional field trip. Moreover, parents are asked not to be in the classroom at all for the first couple of weeks so the kids can get used to the routine.
I may end up with separation anxiety.
As we talked, I realized my little boy was under the impression he would be spending time with his older brother, entering second grade, while he was at school. It was hard to burst that bubble. A summer of a little too much togetherness has had my boys at each others’ throats more often than I care to think about lately, so the fact that my younger son was comforted in the knowledge that his brother would be around was heartwarming.
“You might see each other when you’re finishing lunch, and he’s starting lunch, or maybe sometimes in the halls, but that’s all,” I was forced to tell him. “You will be in your classroom with your teacher. He will be in a different classroom with his teacher.”
He took it in. Solemnly.
We watched that scene again. “See,” I said, “the teacher’s really nice, and she’s showing them what to do. If you just watch your teacher, you’ll figure it out. And you already know some Chinese!” I said encouragingly. The fact that this scene is in Cantonese, and my son’s day would be in Mandarin, made little difference at this point, I figured. Still, she said the word for backpack quite a few times…I had picked it up. And it sounded familiar. I found myself hoping it was a cognate!
That evening at dinner I asked my older son “So, how do you say backpack in Mandarin?”
“Shi bao! I’ve told you a million times!”
Shrugging off the derision of my seven-year-old, I turned to my younger son. “See. It’s the same!” I told him. “Shi bao! You already know backpack!”
He will be ok. At least for the first day…
Abigail Sawyer blogs about language immersion education for the film Speaking in Tongues, www.speakingintonguesfilm.info). She has two children in a Mandarin immersion program in the San Francisco public schools and believes that more multilingualism will make the world smarter and more peaceful.
