When my youngest daughter, Lily, got sent to the principal’s office during preschool, I had a feeling we were in for a rollercoaster ride when kindergarten rolled around. To put it plainly, she embodies the essence of a wild child. I adore her vibrant spirit; her humor, curiosity, and infectious laughter are irreplaceable. Yet, the truth is, she has never shown much regard for rules or norms throughout her five years of life.
We have genuinely tried to guide her with clear boundaries, expectations, and rewards. While there has been some progress, let’s face it: if she were our firstborn, she might have been our only child.
The first day of kindergarten arrived, and it was an emotional experience for me while she was brimming with excitement. I wanted to cherish every moment, knowing it was the last time I would drop off a child for their first day of school. Everything seemed normal until pick-up time.
At our school, there’s a clip chart system that tracks behavior. Each child starts the day ready to learn, and their behavior can move them up or down. Naturally, Lily’s first day didn’t go as planned; she ended up moving down the chart, and her teacher greeted me with that knowing smile that only kindergarten teachers possess. “We had a challenging day,” she said, “Let’s try again tomorrow.”
However, I soon learned that Lily had slid down to just one box above “process,” which, according to my older two children, is akin to the worst fate imaginable. My eldest child, Max, now 12, never received a “process” in his kindergarten days, nor did my 9-year-old daughter, Mia. By the second week, I found a process form tucked away in Lily’s backpack. She had been speaking out of turn, stepping out of line, and fully embracing her non-conformist tendencies. Everything on that report felt so typical of her, but one question struck me: “How do you feel about what happened?” Her response was simply, “I feel good.”
In that moment, I couldn’t shake the unsettling notion that I might be raising a little troublemaker.
Sending a spirited child to kindergarten is no easy feat. I don’t consider ourselves bad parents, but I often wonder if we missed the mark somewhere along the way. Perhaps we should have enforced stricter rules at home or even considered a toddler boot camp, if such a thing exists. The challenge is, Lily isn’t particularly troublesome at home—at least, I don’t see it that way. However, there’s something about her that transforms when she’s around other adults. It’s as if the full moon triggers her wild side, and chaos ensues.
We exchanged several emails with Lily’s teacher, and in an effort to create consistency, we implemented our own clip chart at home. We tried to encourage better behavior, but nothing seemed to work, and I started doubting our ability to parent effectively.
Then, Lily’s teacher introduced a clever idea: a game called “Beat The Teacher.” Each day, they would fill out a simple chart together, awarding smiley faces for good behavior. Interestingly, her teacher often “loses,” which seems intentional. Each evening, Lily comes home, eager to share her “Beat the Teacher” form, proudly announcing her victory and the good choices she made throughout the day. Her clip moves upward too.
I’m not sure how long this game will captivate her, but for now, sending a spirited child to kindergarten can be an anxiety-inducing experience. I suspect it will always be this way for her. However, I’ve also learned that it’s the thoughtful gestures from teachers, like introducing this engaging game, that can truly make a difference. It may have been an extra effort on her teacher’s part, but it has proven to be a game-changer, and for that, I’m thankful.
In summary, navigating the world of kindergarten with a wild child can be daunting, but with creativity and support from teachers, it can also lead to positive outcomes.