Preschool Dropouts
At our church, when parents drop off their children in the nursery, they are asked this question: If your child cries when you leave, would you like to be notified immediately, after 5 minutes of crying, or let them cry it out? Since parents answer differently, we have stickers we place on the child so as to remember each family’s preference. Cody and I have always chosen the “cry it out” sticker for our kids. I tell you this so you don’t label us as coddlers when I tell you how our girls dropped out of preschool.
There was a local preschool that had a reputation for being outstanding. It was designed for children with disability, and ran by a very experienced, kind gentlemen, who is still raved about from parents that I personally know and trust. The building was elopement proof. The staff was plentiful. The items were labeled with pictures. There were amazing toys and specialized equipment. There were sensory acitvities. There were personalized routine charts. It was everything I wanted to offer the girls, and we got in! That January we excitedly packed Nettie and Lottie’s backpacks, and dropped them off for their first day of preK.
Day one they ran in with smiles on their faces. Similar to when we dropped them off at church, Coop, and Mops, their little legs propelled them into the school and they barely looked back to say goodbye. The second day however, they entered a little more apprehensive. The third day they were reluctant to walk in. On the forth they strongly said, ‘NO.’
After two weeks of school Nettie and Lottie began to fight drop off. They signed, ‘School All Done’ ‘School Scared’. They screamed NO clutching their seatbelts, tears streaming down their faces, as we pulled into the parking lot.
Perhaps it’s just a transition period? I thought. I packed each a familiar toy in their backpacks, but that didn’t bring any comfort. I packed cupcakes for their lunch as a treat, but they refused to eat at all. Perhaps the day was too long? I picked them up earlier- yet they continued to cry from start to end of even a shortened day. I tried staying with them, but they just pulled me to the window and pointed to our van saying, “GO!'“ the whole time. Soon I noticed that the more attempts I made at taking them to school, the less they trusted me to listen to them in general.
Both girls grew reluctant to go to the car at all. Lottie started to pull out her hair on the left side, which I believe was a reaction to the stress. The utterance of the word ‘school’ made them both hide under the table. Their big blue eyes begged to convey the panic felt inside, and their hands all the while signed, ‘school all done’ on repeat to anyone who was near.
That preschool should have been the perfect fit, but for an unknown reason, Nettie and Lottie rejected it. More than that- they were scared of it. My daughters were communicating clearly, and I could either listen and remove them, or force them to stay. Please remember, I am typically a “cry it out” sticker mom. I understand the growth that comes from pushing oneself into areas of discomfort. So hear me when I say that while my kids are plenty encouraged to do hard things, in this case to further push them was not the right move. Education is not beneficial if it is scary. I would rather my child know that I will listen to them when they say “Im scared” than know their ABC’s. I refuse to destroy their trust in me when it comes to honoring their voice. So I let them drop out of preschool.
This meant changing up our entire schedule, last minute. This meant more work on my part for the rest of the year. It also meant rebuilding the trust that had been lost . Our girls went from having a healthy attachment in all the other areas of our lives, to being very clingy and apprehensive of separation. At the spoken word of ‘school’, they spiraled into a panic that took nearly an hour to work them down from. For the next year we were unable to drive past the building without both girls in screaming panic and tears. Lottie’s head needed shaved on one side to break the habit of ripping out her hair. But with time, and patience, healing came, trust strengthened, and hair grew back.
Last week (about three years later) we drove to the school. The old preschool has since then shut down and a new school has occupied the building. I am happy to report that the girls didn’t remember their past terror. We walked through the parking lot and around the playground, without a flinch. I still don’t know what it was about that school that had the girls react in such a negative way, but I do know that the trust we share today is not to be taken for granted. I have also learned that you may present your child with the most wonderful opportunity, and they could very well reject it full stop mode, with zero consideration for the hoops you jumped through or the paperwork you filled out, or the entry fee you paid.
It is difficult to know when to push your child, and when to pull them. This lesson taught me several things: Hold plans loosely. Don’t grow discouraged when something doesn’t work out, for whatever the reason, or for no known reason at all. Keep offering all the opportunities and encouragements. Most of all, listen and respond when children express they feel scared. Our nonverbal children rely on us to be their voice, don’t damage that trust for anything.
