First I would like to thank Maria for inspiring me to write a blog. Raising Zion and observing his life are my inspiration for this blog. Writing has never been one of my strengths and I have always struggled to put my thoughts into words, but I want to record these precious memories, so I don't forget them.I volunteered to be a chaperon for Zion's class trip to the Bronx Botanical Garden today. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect spring day. 70 degrees, sunny and one of the few times this year Zion's Pre-K class was outdoors enjoying nature.
It seems it was your typical "educational" field trip. Sitting in a room listening to a story(The Hungary Caterpiller, a definite classic which I am sure most of the kids have heard many times), sitting at a table coloring a pre-cut paper object followed by an walk outside with 14 very restless 4 and 5 year olds who so badly wanted to run on this perfect spring day, but couldn't because their teachers told them it was dangerous. I get it, there are 14 little bodies in their charge and some degree of order is necessary to keep everyone safe(walking on the sidewalk to board the bus back to school, for example). I know my son and I have worked very hard to teach him to be safe, while allowing him the freedom to run. He is pretty good and for the most part never runs outside of our comfort zone when we are in any outdoor public space, playgrounds not included. I didn't have the heart to tell these lovely cherubs they couldn't run because it was dangerous. In the space we were in it was impossible. There was no danger. I didn't have the heart to micro manage their entire experience at this beautiful space as for some of these kids it would be their first and last visit. I didn't have the heart to tell them to sit still, stop touching their name tags, or walk in straight lines. As long as they were close to their partner and in plain view of one of the 4 adults, do straight lines really matter? At the end of the trip, they were finally "allowed" to do what they really wanted to do. Run in the grass and roll down the the very small hill. (How I loved doing this as a child!) One little girl got bumped and fell on the grass. I don't exactly remember the teacher's comment, but it was something to the effect of "See what happens when you run." Some of the other kids(my son included) ventured about 15 feet away from the group(still in plain view of 4 adults). The teacher's assistant said to them "That's far enough!" and said to me "Give them and inch and they will take a mile." I said, "They are just being kids" and thought "Give them the mile and they will take the inch." I fully respect the teachers and the important job they do every day to educate our children and keep them safe. If the teacher didn't want them to run, why did she blow bubbles to them on the grass? Why weren't boundries for this short bout of freedom established beforehand by the adults on the trip?(guilty as charged) If my son has figured out how to run and be safe, I would fathom to guess the other kids have too. I didn't have the heart to tell not to be kids. I am glad I decided to be the unofficial trip photographer.
