Today is another country, especially for parents
by CJ
Anyone with a child has no doubt discovered that parenthood is like being in a foreign land. Local customs are obscure. The humor’s not humorous. The native dialect is hard to understand. In my case, as both a foreigner and a parent, I have a double dose of strangeness. There are many things about raising a child in the U.S. that confound me yet, whilst it seems okay to puzzle over the cult of parenthood, it seems less gracious to criticize my host country’s culture. Sometimes I don’t know who or what to blame.
As a purely random example, let’s discuss teacher appreciation week.
Poppy’s daycare has asked us to create a bulletin board in the hallway to show how much we love our teachers. In principle, I have no problem with that. After all, Poppy’s teachers are magus-like in their ability to calm my child. Without making it look hard, these two tantrum-wranglers are socializing her in a way I’d never have the confidence to do myself. I more than appreciate Poppy’s teachers, I depend on them. Yet doesn’t an appreciation week sound a bit contrived? Surely I won’t be the only person scribbling a note of appreciation at the last possible moment, turning my genuine admiration for them into a hollow gesture? Doesn’t the whole thing sound a bit, well, twee?
On the other hand, the appreciation drive is also a great opportunity to teach Poppy about gratitude. I want her to be a decent, warmhearted little girl and though she seems to be lost in the tunnel-vision of toddlerhood, perhaps she’ll also be receptive to these character-forming prompts? Moreover, if I don’t partake of appreciation week (I probably will) and if I don’t share this blog post with Poppy’s teachers (I definitely won’t), they’ll never know how much I think they rock.
So is Teacher Appreciation Week corny or constructive? This bemused foreigner doesn’t know what to make of it.
Of course, my bemusement may also arise from the fact that I’m three decades out from my own experience of childhood. Perhaps my parents dashed around my nursery school with demonstrations of love for my teachers … and I simply forgot. After all, that the past is another country is as true to a native-born American as it is to an African-born hybrid like me.
Indeed, it would be grounding for me to find parallels between my upbringing and Poppy’s, but that seems impossible. To compare my childhood in the civil war politics of Zimbabwe to Poppy’s childhood in America’s economic gloom of today, is as futile as comparing marmite with peanut butter & jam (PBJ).
Thus, as I venture into this strange new land of parenting without a cultural compass to guide me, I don’t know whether my opposition to certain things are because I’m foreign, I’m new to parenting, or I’m just a colossal grump. Am I the only one, for example, to resist holiday-themed clothes, to dislike that toddlers exchange Valentine cards, to dread the day that I’ll have to be a room parent, to hate the thought of putting my first grader on a school bus by herself, and to think know that PBJs really are vile?
Or do all parents in all cultures and in all epochs feel that they’ve woken up in another country, one that’s unfamiliar and very far away?
“Am I the only one, for example, to resist holiday-themed clothes, to dislike that toddlers exchange Valentine cards, to dread the day that I’ll have to be a room parent, to hate the thought of putting my first grader on a school bus by herself, and to think know that PBJs really are vile?,”
No, you are not alone at all, but what is a room parent?
A room parent, from what I can tell, is the indefatigable person who liaises between the teacher and the parents. The incumbent of my daughter’s class reminds us when it’s Silly Sock day, corrals us into volunteering to paint the classroom, prods us for money for gifts for the teachers, thinks of thoughtful gifts for said teachers, and then delivers them on time. The incumbent does all of this with ease and general smiliness. It will be impossible for me to do the same!
Sweetpea, it’s peanut butter and JELLY. Not jam. Here’s to help you remember: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRBOgtp0Hac&feature=related
Walter — I put that ‘mistake’ in there just to make sure that you’re still reading my blog. Good. Glad you are.
By the way, that song is so obnoxious that when I played it, Steppenwolf darted from the room with her tail between her legs. What better way to throw her into the arms of marmite?
Holiday-themed clothes and toddlers exchanging Valentine’s cards are just commercialism, so I don’t like it. I let my kids do Valentine’s cards if they want to, but they have to make their own.
Peanut butter and jelly is awesome though. You have some nice protein and fat in the peanut butter, to be there in a bit when you need that energy. You have the jelly and bread for the instant energy. More importantly, it’s cheap and easy to make.
I also hate forced appreciation things like group cards and bulletin boards.
It’s not just you. But I do suspect that we’re in the minority.
Gwen — I’m glad that you agree about the commercialism of Valentine exchanges etc, and I love the term ‘forced appreciation’. As for PBJs, I can’t fault its nutritional content but it’s the taste that revolts me. Ugh. I suppose you have to have grown up with that to appreciate it.
I, not knowing what a room parent was, foolishly signed up for it at the beginning of my kindergarten’s school year. I thought it was someone who helped out in the classroom and helped to organize a classroom party or two. Oh, my. I am soooo not one of them. I am walking the walk this year but I shall not be signing up for room parent duty in the future.
And what is up with little kids exchanging valentines? It is strange. As for teacher appreciation week, it is a bit odd to have to remind people to appreciate their childrens’ teacher. Both my parents were teachers and I do love my childrens’ teachers so I am rolling with it.
Shoes — I’m intrigued. Have you done a blog post about your tenure as a room parent and I’ve just missed it?
You caught me. No I have not done a blog post about being a room parent. When I am not busy doing room parent things, I try to forget that I am one. No, really, it is not that bad.
Now that you have me thinking about it I have jotted down a few points that I hope will morph into a post about it in the next week or so.
On PBJ: I think you have to grow up here to appreciate it. I did not and do not. I don’t understand why you would ruin a perfectly good peanut butter sandwich by adding gross grape jelly (which according to my husband is the only appropriate filling). That said, my 3 1/2 year old loves them (and doesn’t mind when I make them with blackberry jam!) As an aside, the allergy issues over here mean that I am not allowed to send him to school with any peanut butter. And marmite is delicious – especially on buttered toast. My son ate it when he was younger but alas, seems to have lost the taste for it.
On forced appreciation: Your example seems a little OTT but I think it is nice to encourage children from any early age to say thank you. Personally, I think there are other ways to do this rather than the bulletin board – thank you cards at the end of the year or something. But I suppose not all parents think that way and maybe “forcing” appreciation increases the number of children who learn the importance of good manners.
On holidays: I hate holidays like Valentine’s Day and Mother’s Day and am grateful that my son’s preschool doesn’t do anything for any of them. Its philosophy is that holidays should be celebrated outside of school. I have been called worse than a grump.
The peanut butter & allergy issue is really interesting, and has raised ire amongst some parents here in Texas. They resent that some children’s ‘so-called’ allergies mean that they can’t take their PBJs into school. It’s almost as if toting a PBJ is akin to the right to bear arms. I can’t imagine being so impassioned (and, er, selfish) about hot marmite toast, delicious and culturally-significant that it is.
Walter – excellent reminder to CJ re: PBJ. Is that song on your fave playlist?
CJ – we are a culture who rarely expresses our appreciation but complains readily; perhaps, as Christine says, TAW shows kids their parents really DO recognize all the effort going into their kids’ daily lessons and that it’s important to show that appreciation.
Besides that, what the heck IS marmite? The ingredients list as its primary component “yeast extract”. Wha … ?!
I agree that one might have had to have grown up eating marmite to truly understand the yum factor behind something made of yeast extract. That can be the only explanation for Walter’s poor taste.
As for the U.S. not being a culture who expresses appreciation, I disagree. Americans strike me as extraordinarily civil and polite, and I feel that gratitude here is prevalent. In what other country, for example, would you find people using the Thanksgiving meal to reflect on all the things they’re thankful for? I can’t imagine doing such a thing in Britain or Zimbabwe.
As a kids I was taught that foreigners were all ignorant of the joys of peanut butter, that they know nothing better than the likes Nuttella. I’ve since learned that this is false information. I’ve learned this by eating the best peanut butter in the world.
The best peanut butter in the world is made in Zimbabwe. The best of the best is made near Zhombe, where a grandmother grounds fresh roasted peanuts by hand between two flat rocks. However, even grocery store peanut butter in Zimbabwe is delicious.
Maybe you don’t like PBJ because it’s being made with inferior American peanut butter.
”Grinds” not ”grounds”. Dumb phone.
Calin informs me that there are a number of other typos in my comment above. Damn you autocorrect. Sorry for bringing down the quality if your blog, CJ.
Ian your comments can only uplift my blog — thank you for battling with WordPress’s annoying autocorrect function.
I must agree that Zimbabwean peanut butter is delicious but I should also extend that term to ALL peanut butter all over the world. It’s the mixing of PB with J that turns my stomach.
By the way, while you were in Zimbabwe, did you ever have dovi — peanut butter stew? I might present this dish to Walter next time he sings the praises of PBJ:
http://4hourpeople.com/question/6481/African-Cuisine-Dovi-Zimbabwean-Peanut-Butter-Stew-
Seriously, you think any of us ever emerge from the tunnel-vision of toddlerhood?