The multiplication table was taught last week. Every day the teacher moved to the next number up, and before they knew it, the 2nd grade students had to know it all by heart. In a week.
Unrealistic.
Though I was a step ahead and tried different tactics to see which will suit her better. Memorization out loud. Visual aid. Writing it multiple times. She didn’t seem stressed about it. Took it in stride. I tried to tell her it’s going to be hard – remembering it all to perfection this year. Knowing the multiplication table will help her greatly for the rest of her life, but this is a difficult and frustrating season of trying to remember so many jumbled numbers, that at first don’t seem to hav any rhyme or reason.
Sure enough, jumping in the multiplication table is confusing. Even for the numbers she could easily call out, now she struggled as if we were talking in a foreign language that she’s never heard before. I don’t spare her feelings when confronting this reality. Math can be hard at first. Can be confusing. And frustrating.
I got a text from the teacher, a group text to all the parents, that the kids don’t know the multiplication table yet (DUH!) and Friday they have a test.
There is a sense of helplessness in the air. The teacher constantly enlists the help of the parents. Passing on responsibility before she empowers the kids. With the motivation, with the help, with packing the notebooks, with all the things I think she needs to tell the kids, not to the parents. I’ve said this before to her. I am of the belief that kids learn school responsibility under her guidance. Kids who have a healthy attachment to the parents, and respect and intrinsic motivation to please their parents, they can transfer that obedience and respect to the teacher. But the teacher has to hold up their end of the bargain and lead with clarity, and conviction, with patience and understanding, with firm boundaries and consequences not just soft talk and little gifts.
I asked ivy what motivates her. She is eager to do her homework even when she struggles to understand the requirements. She stumbles through, makes mistakes, tries again. Asks me. Asks conrad. Enlists Jackie’s help. From a motivation point of view she is extraordinary.
But when I asked her to solve eight multiplication, two sets of four, she got sulky. Chin tight, frown, crossed arms. She did it with spite. A few corect, a few wrong, a few left blank. She wrote small, almost invisible. I told her the attitude is not conducive to remembering and learning. She was even more hardened in her attitude. Then I remeber the deal. I will not corale or nag or drag. And she can do whatever she sees fit. She stormed upstairs and closed the door. Two hour later she woke up from a nap. When she can’t focus she goes to take a nap (a wise decision in itself). She said she was too tired to focus. Then we had a great revolutionary conversation.
She was all of a sudden so mature. In her reflection and responses.
She said she sometimes feels like the orange guy in “inside out”. I didn’t remember the characters emotions. It was anxiety. Incredible insight and memory. And ability to put into words her emotions.
I saw her eager heart. Her commitment. The struggle. So I pulled back. And I gave her space while remaining available.
I can’t overestimate her learning style. This is the time she is figuring out her limits and strengths. She tries new things and sometimes she gets it right, sometimes she will stumble.
I read an avalanche of messages last night (after I write this reflection) from the parents of kids in ivy’s class. They are completely overwhelmed. They seem to absorb all the responsibility for this season, because of the messages we get from the teacher. I see the parents try. Try hard. I know the kids struggle, cry, push themselves…but is this the wise, sustainable way? I don’t know. Each kid is motivated differently. None of them are fully formed and polished. They are discovering their own strengths and limits and maybe this is just a hard season. I often tell this to my daughter. We acknowledge it is hard, and we don’t get discouraged. We continue to make progress. And then we take breaks and remember to rest and have fun and relax. So we could start again after a moment of respite. Kids pick up on our own emotions, our own fears or courage, and motivation as well. One thing I learned this week: I could listen to them more and speak less. The balance is starting to tilt in their chatty favor.