Meeting challenges
...written on 05.18.03, @ 12:20 a.m.
Sat May 17, 2003
Fear and dread have been my companions this week. One of my many mantras has been "Oh, that 10 am Saturday class will be the death of me!".
I used to have four 3-4 year old boys in that class and things went as well as could be expected, but now they are all a year older and have four new classmates. The room is not that big to begin with, but add eight students, two teachers and two parents whose children refuse to let go of them, and things get a bit tight.
Last week I told Eiko to call the parents and tell them that they weren't to be in the classroom this week and to practice some kind of a goodbye ritual with their children everyday to prepare them somewhat for the separation this Saturday. I also decided to change rooms and move to a slightly bigger room.
Eiko said she was able to contact one of the parents, but couldn't get a hold of the mother of the boy/girl twins. For all of the four classes so far, these two have never left their mother's arms. When I ask the boy what color of clay or paper he would like, he lifts his head up and says, "Mama?" and lets Mommy choose for him. The other boy's father actually lifts his son's arms to pick up crayons and such.
All of this is having a negative dynamic not only on the people inside the class, but on the mothers of the veteran students on the outside of the class who have conveniently forgotten what kind of crybabies their own sons were a year ago.
So my heart was just a thump-thumpin' and my throat was more parched than a sundried umeboshi plum this morning as I went about preparing the new room. Sure enough, Mommy came in with her two child appendiges and Daddy was pushing his resisting son through the door. One new little girl was all sweetness and light and eager to do the SuperTots song, and my vets were all over the place (as usual).
I told Eiko since this was a new room, it would be good for Mommy to leave her kids. Mommy was hesitant as she felt her sleeve being stretched way beyond her fingertips. Sometimes it's more the Mommy dreading the separation than the kids, but the little girl started to tussle and fuss, however, the boy was calm and I felt a spark of hope.
Mommy couldn't make the goodbye quick enough, so I helped push her little girl off, pushed Mommy out and closed the door. The little girl collapsed to her knees on the floor and started crying, but in a soothing tone I told her (in English) that everything was going to be alright. She was a little wet bundle for a while there, but eventually started doing things and by Buddah, if she didn't outperform Little Miss Sweetness and Light during the end of class rendition of the SuperTots Song! However, the little boy of Daddy-who-stayed-in-the-room pretty much was a loner despite my consistent checking in to try and include him.
I was all aglow with having more than half the class (two of which were smiling twins) participate in that final song and dance that I barely took notice of one of the veteran moms in a big pow-wow with Eiko. She's a wiry woman with long wiry hair and despite the hot day was wearing long black gloves almost up to her armpits. She isn't happy with the size of the class. She feels it's too unwieldy and I agree. Dealing with all of the personalities wears out an introvert like me!
The class after that one has three students who have been with me for a year now. The two girls took over two months to be able to have their mothers out of the room. It's a joy seeing their progression and it reminds me that things can and will get better.
We had a professional photographer in the class who must have taken a zillion shots and me and the kids enjoyed hamming things up a bit.
For lunch I went down to the Ra-Ra Cafe and had a lunch set of fried chicken cutlet, rice, veggies, tofu, miso soup and tea for 600 yen. Quite satisfying it was, indeed.
In my first class after lunch I have two students. One is a girl with much power. The other is a boy who barely speaks, but who loves to flare his nostrils. It can be quite hypnotizing, but the ice is breaking somewhat and he is starting to do and say things with much guidance.
After that class, I fell in a seated position and slept for about 10 minutes with my head lopped full to the right. Eiko cleaned up while I was sleeping and even prepared the other room for my final class.
This boy is eleven years old and is in the first year of jr high school. He's advanced for his age, soaks things up like a sponge, but the last two times I've waited outside with him for his mom to come, it has been a long silent wait. Today though, he played along with me and we reviewed and pretended we were serving each other food, etc. and we were having fun communicating. When his mom pulled up he got into the car and flashed the biggest smile I've ever seen on him and waved goodbye.
Energy-wise it was a hard day, but the progress that I saw and felt was worth every drop of sweat.