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theresa-of-liechtenstein · 10 months

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man that got me thinking about the catholic school days… like transferring from public school was such a comedic experience i look back on it now and have to laugh

some people treated me like a poor unfortunate soul and asked me questions about my experience like i just walked into civilization from a jungle (“did people… bully you?” cue me: “…bullying exists everywhere?”)

i was also an Anomaly because when i took the entrance test i pretty much aced the math section and was placed into advanced math straightaway which hadn’t been seen from a transfer student before, which i at the time (forgetting i was literally in math olympiad and advanced math already) thought was much less of a big deal than they were making. (“they were impressed i could calculate the area of a trapezoid,” i complained to my mother after they informed me of my placement. “it was easy. they literally gave me the formula.”)

on my very first day there was held a pep rally for the middle school (this was a preschool through 8th grade school) and one of the “games” was to have a student from each year tell the whole middle school about something they did that summer. i don’t know who came up with that or who even thought that would be a suitable game to play for 11-13 year olds. anyway nobody was volunteering, the usual Kids Who Did Public Speaking didn’t want to do it, so i volunteered myself and delivered an impromptu stand-up set about my priest uncle coming to visit. i won.

the son of my favorite english teacher (who by the way. absolutely loved me from the moment i did that stand-up set on the first day. pretty much all my english teachers there simply loved me i have no clue why) straight up said to my face as we walked out of science class “you’re really smart, for a public school kid” and i was SO offended

i befriended most if not all the sisters on campus and spent time chatting with the one in the library who was from the democratic republic of the congo and spoke french swahili and english. or working the snack bar with another down near the playground who let me stack the pudding cups in the fridge. even the one running the cafeteria, who everyone said was mean, was actually really friendly if you were polite to her and were actually interested in her well-being. my mom and i even ended up being friends with the really quiet one who guarded the gate in the mornings

so much of junior high was me doing whatever the fuck i wanted honestly. i snuck broadway references into things. i think once i even used a matilda the musical song in a school project. i danced with a girl at the last formal social and nobody batted an eye.

we had our inaugural shakespeare performances outdoors where we did selected scenes from plays and i got lady macbeth hyping macbeth up to frame the guards for murdering the king (bc the guy teaching it was like this is the most challenging scene and i was like. bet). one of my friends made fake blood from a chocolate base (he was SO good at practical effects my god) and i was dying to taste it bc he said it was edible so we took our bows when the scene was over and i was still on stage in costume when i stuck a blood-covered finger in my mouth. cue HORRIFIED gasps from the audience. one of my classmate’s little sister was so terrified she would not speak to me for months.

we did eighth grade superlatives and there were fewer categories than students (but there were few students anyway so everyone got a superlative) and even though there were multiple people per superlative, i was the only one who was a “Responsible Individual”. which was hilarious

also i went from being the Poor Little Public School Kid to like. by the advisor’s words, “one of the best school presidents,” so i can really say i peaked in junior high

all this was what put me on the radar of the mother who, four years later, expressed that she wanted me to follow her son to [UNNAMED IVY LEAGUE SCHOOL]. which is the funniest bit of all

however i will say that talking to people from that era, they’re a little too quick to pin down our current achievements on the fact we went to catholic school, which is annoying. was talking to someone who was saying “it’s all because of the foundation catholic school gave you” conveniently forgetting i went to public school for FAR longer than i went to private school. it makes me wonder that, if i had been slightly less achieving now than i am, would they be adamant about my “catholic school foundations”? but that’s just speculation. i personally just had a fun time and i really enjoyed myself lol

#em speaks

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waitingforminjae · 7 years

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When I was a kid I would spend my after-school hours at a place that, for the sake of potential creeper awareness I will call, somewhat ominously, the Center. The Center was right across the street from a Preschool, which I’m pretty sure was run by the same people. I attended both and have extremely fond memories of both bc there I felt safe and normal.

When I was about 7 my school switched to a “year-round schedule” which, for our purposes, meant that the new admin had no fucking clue what they were doing we didn’t have breaks at the same time as the other schools in the area. My dad worked at these other schools, and my mom was to sick to take care of me so I couldn’t stay home during these weird breaks. So that left the question of what the hell to do with me in these seven hours before the Center opened.

I ended up staying the day at the Preschool, in the “Four Year Old/Pre-K Class” then going over to the Center about 2:30 when it’s teachers arrived. I have a lot of fun memories, and some of my most cherished ones, associated with this time. There was one other school in the area that had the same funky schedule, so there were usually two or three of us older kids there, but for the most part it was us surrounded by toddlers.

And these tiny humans absolutely loved me.

At the time, I couldn’t have told you why little kids love me so much. They just did. Without doing anything consciously, I had an army of munchkins at my disposal to take over the world at any given moment. They would talk with me, follow me around their playground area, listen to me. It was wild and I miss them dearly.

I remember one time this other older boy asked me why these kids loved us so much. I, in typical me fashion, rambled out this idea that we were kinda like a cool gem to these kids, like a diamond, and because we were different they wanted to be be around us because we were cool. I didn’t know what I was trying to describe, but I was becoming aware of a vague idea of why these kids loved us, and me in particular.

They were twofold:

I didn’t treat them any differently.

One time when I was around 8, I was sitting at a table with some of the kids. This one boy was chattering away to me, and I was engaged and listening to him. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and I told him that I didn’t. He then looked at me, and said “Can I be your boyfriend?”

I was like, Oh Shit. I just explained to him that I wasn’t really looking to date anyone right now, and that I was sorry to turn him down. He took this in stride and continued on about his day.

That’s the most singular instance I can think of aside from the kid who asked if I could come home with him but it also extended beyond talking to them like they were my age. Which leads to number two:

2. I would actively engage with them.

Most of the other older kids weren’t interested in playing with them, or talking with them. They were babies, after all! But I never minded. If I was playing, as I used to when I was younger, I would let them join me when it was play time. I would play with them when they invited me too, and talk. I would compliment their work and help them if they needed it. My favorite instance went a little like this:

There was this one little boy, I think he was actually in the three-year-old class, who would always follow me around during their outside playtime. He would hold one of my hands sometimes, and he never spoke a word. One time I was sitting with my bag, I was probably around 11 or 12, and he came and sat beside me. He kinda poked around my bag and looked at the book I had brought with me. I took it out and gave it to him to look at. This is the image that has stayed with me:

This small, quiet little boy, even for his age, carefully flipping the pages of my book. He studies them seriously, slowly, almost as if he can read them. It was such a small, calm moment and it still gets me to this day.

Both of these ideas have since developed into a single hypothesis:

Little kids engage so easily with me precisely because I don’t try to engage with them like little kids.

I’m happy to let children exist in their own space. If a child wants to engage with me, I will be more than happy to participate. I actually listen to what they have to say, and that probably shows in how I respond to them, keeping the conversation going or playing along in their game. I let them show me things, and I don’t talk down or over them. I answer their questions, and I direct questions or comments to them, not to their parents.

I stopped going over to the Preschool when I was about 12 or 13 but a couple of experiences with little kids since has helped solidify this theory:

When I was in my AP World History class, my teacher had to bring in her little girl, about 3 or 4 years old. She’s an adorably precocious kid with blonde hair and sass.

My classmates kept trying to engage with her, but she wasn’t having it. She was cutting up paper and throwing it away. This kid, Homeslice actually, asked “Can I have a hug?”

She brushes past him, little hands full of paper, and says “I’m a little busy right now.”

I wish I had a picture of his face bc it was gr8.

So it’s about 15 minutes later and we’re doing individual work and she gets her IPad and comes up and clambers into the empty seat beside me. She looks at me seriously, then asks

“Do you want to see my games?”

I told her I would love to see her games, and she spent the class showing me how to play her little kid games. It’s one of my favorite memories.

I think this little girl chose to talk to me because I hadn’t been bothering her before. When everyone else had been talking to her, I had just watched. When she looked in my direction, I would smile at her so she would know I was friendly and open to her. So she chose me because I hadn’t been cooing and crowding around her like a Special Object.

The second one was just last night.

One of my floormates brought her little niece, maybe 3 years old, into the Common Room with her for a minute. Everyone said the usual “Oh she’s so cute!” and “Hi, *girls name*!” that people always say to kids. She didn’t respond, obviously a little overwhelmed and shy. Then, when they left to get something from Floormate’s room, everyone said the usual “Bye!” or “Bye bye!”. I made eye contact with her and smiled, and told her “It was nice to meet you, *name*.”

She gave this genuine and sweet smile around her bottle and it made my day.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this but little kids seem to respond best when you don’t treat them like little kids and instead treat them as valuable equals. That’s all.

#children #child psychology #kids #little kids #preschool #pre-k #pre-kindergarten #child #toddlers #kids being cute #ageism #mine #sorry this is so long I love talking about these kids asdfghjkl #my life

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