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Family Daze
'An object from home' offers clues to children's family life
By Debbie Farmer
When my son started preschool he was introduced to several new activities which the teacher assured me were essential for fostering high self-esteem and a sound academic development. I had no problem with this, but I started to worry when the teacher informed me that my son had to choose an object from home to share with the class once a week.
The day before my son's first sharing experience, I wandered through the house looking for something he could take that would show we were an interactive, functional family that did more on weekends than sit on the sofa in our pajamas watching Cartoon Network. After two hours I couldn't find anything appropriate, so I went to the craft store and bought the most politically correct, socially acceptable item I could find: a birdhouse kit.
I started putting it together that afternoon, but my son fell asleep before it was finished, and I spent the rest of the evening frantically nailing it together.
The next morning he come downstairs, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared at it. "What is it?" he asked.
"It's for sharing time," I said. "When it's your turn, just say you built this with Mommy to feed the wild birds in our well-maintained backyard, and you've developed a deep appreciation for nature, OK?"
Everything was going great until the teacher called my son into the middle of the circle to take his turn. He wrapped his arms around the backpack and refused to move.
I thought my son might be less shy if he chose what he brought. So the following week I sent him to his room to find something he'd like to share. He returned brandishing his bazooka squirt gun.
I pictured the other children standing in the middle of the circle sharing handmade family projects, educational toys or cute stuffed animals with names like Snuggles, while my son swaggered around looking like the Terminator.
"How about something from the backyard?" I quickly led him outside.
After searching through the tanbark, he finally found an interesting stick. I convinced him to put it into his backpack before he changed his mind .
The next day, when it was his turn, he slowly opened his backpack and took out the stick.
"How interesting," the teacher said. "Can you tell us about it?"
My son nodded. Then he slowly lifted it up and pretended to pull the trigger. "Bang!" he cried.
The following week I scoured the house for something intriguing that couldn't be turned into a weapon . I finally managed to coerce him into sharing a picture of Yosemite I had taken during our last vacation.
I figured my son couldn't shoot anything with it and everyone could see we were an outdoorsy, peaceful family who enjoyed nature without the use of firearms.
This time a little boy with a soccer trophy went first. "My team won first place," he said sweetly.
Then a girl passed around a terrarium made out of recycled two-liter bottles. "My mommy helped me make this."
I couldn't wait for my son's turn. Soon everyone would know we were a normal, nature-loving, college-bound family. I held my breath as he retrieved the pictures.
"Can you tell us where that is?" the teacher asked.
He held them up and shook his head as if he's never seen them before. Then his eyes lit up with a spark of recognition.
"It was cool! That's where my dad locked the keys in the car." He excitedly pointed to the picture. "And my mom got real mad and said lots of bad words." He grinned widely.
I have a feeling this is going to be a long year.
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Saratoga, California Since 1955
