First Day of School Anxieties

First, let me be clear.  The first day of school anxieties are my own - not those of my children.  While Ariel shed some tears this morning, her little sister, Elyse, pat her on the shoulder and said, "It's okay, Ariel."  Elyse was all smiles before school and happy to pose for the camera on her first ever day of kindergarten.  When it was time to leave, she hugged me goodbye with ease.  With three kids to organize, it was a busy morning, and I was doing fine too, not daring to think too much about what was about to happen.  I was fine, that is, until I got back to the emptiness of our house, and thought about what Elyse might be doing at that very moment.  Then I wasn't fine, because I worried and worried about her.  Thankfully, I have a baby to snuggle and keep me company.

***

We arrived at the school early this morning.  A bit too early - there were no teachers in sight.  We made our way into the school, and down to the girls' classrooms, which are side by side, where we met up with Ariel's teachers and eventually Elyse's Educational Assistant (EA),  who had seen Dan outside with Penelope and circled around to us.  There was a bit of confusion, as I asked about where we were supposed to have gone, and what time school actually started.  Her EA was equally confused because she was new to the school.  Eventually, we decided the kids were supposed to be outside in the kindergarten pen out front, dropped Elyse's stuff off, and both girls were free to run around with their peers.  Up until this point, all was well.

When the bell rang, all the other kids ran to line up (lead by the big SKs - Ariel was second in line, and talking to a friend), while the JKs followed suit.  But, not Elyse.  Elyse was exploring the play house, and was tipping herself up and down, like a teeter-totter, through the window.  Her EA sat back.  "I'm just going to give her a bit of time to explore," she told us in French.  I waited outside the gate with Dan, and bit my tongue as the other children made their way inside.  Late last week, we met with her EA, her new teacher, the principal and Special Education Resource Teacher at the school, and Dan and I made ourselves very clear - I thought - that Elyse was to be kept with the other children, and to follow the routines.  The expectations should be set high.  As the last student trailed in, Elyse was still exploring the playhouse.  Dan touched my shoulder, "I think I'm going to go he said."  But he hung around with me.  Nobody ever said this was going to be easy.  The school's SERT was meeting the bus students, and casually mentioned Elyse was still in the play house to E's EA.  Her EA acknowledged respectfully that she knew, because she was allowing Elyse to just be, but I could hold my tongue no longer and said she should follow along with the other children, as in, we expect her to follow the rules.  To her credit, the EA didn't rush Elyse, and stuck with her own original plan to give Elyse the space to explore and bring her in at her pace.  With Elyse still in the play house, and no other children on the small play ground in sight, I knew it was time for us, her parents and baby sister, to move on.  Penelope stirred and whimpered from the heat wave that has descended on us.  I did a few last minute adjustments - soother in, music on - then took off at a brisk pace with my new jogging stroller - Elyse and her EA at my back.  I needed to run off my anxieties.  A few kilometers later I was back at home, cooling off in the shower, then snuggled in with Penelope on the couch.  As I breastfed my baby, my thoughts settled on Elyse.  What is she doing now?  Is she with the other children?  Is she following along?  And I thought about how unfair it is.  If she were any other child, she'd be whisked inside with the other kids, because that's what you're supposed to do, but because she has Down syndrome, that means something different to the world.  Well, I don't agree.  She needs to be treated like everyone else in the areas where she is very capable of achieving success.  Give her more time, but only if she needs it.  Give her space, but not too much freedom and choice, or you will never bring her back.  She needs the routine even more so than the other kids - don't take that away from her.  Expect it of her.  Expect MORE.

And so, I will be watching her closely.  I will be there every day, and make sure she follows along.  Because she can.  She can and she will.

I will try to be patient and understanding with the school.  I know they need time to get to know her.  I know she needs time to adjust - that we all need time to adjust.

But I know that my daughter does not deserve to be treated differently in a way that will make her feel set apart.  What's fair is fair, and what's fair for one may not be fair for another.  Fairness does not always mean treating each child the exact same - I understand that.  Each child has their own needs that need to be met.  But, hold those expectations high, even higher.  Higher still.  Give Elyse a fair chance.