La Rentree, part 2: Seeing My World Through Rose-Coloured Glasses?

Micah wakes up first, the others soon after.  Everyone eats, dresses, brushes their teeth and head down to wait in the courtyard.  The whole crew has decided to walk over together.  And when I say the whole crew, I mean all three Canadian families, all of whom are affiliated with the University of Toronto.  Yes, there are 7 Anglo, Torontonian children living here in the building. 

Anyways, that is besides the point.  I walk over a bit early to drop off the paperwork, and catch up with the boys outside their respective schools.  I guide Julian and Micah through the entry doors into the line for registering for the Cantine.  The doors of the school are only open for 10 minutes.  You need to arrive and enter within the allotted time slot or you are locked out.  Or deal with the wrath of the directeur/directrice when you ring the doorbell to be allowed to enter.  And parents are not allowed in the school without an express meeting with the teacher or principal. 

So we wait in the line to confirm that the two boys will receive their lunch at school.  I give them each a kiss and leave to go bring Noah into his school.  Noah has never been to school.  He has done no “extra-curricular” activities.  He has only attended one week of camp without a parent, but his brothers were there with him.  Noah did not want to go to school. 

When I met last week with the directeur of Noah’s school, he mentioned that there were an enormous number of the “petites,”  so many so that he was going to move some up to Noah’s level, the “moyennes” and also move a few of the “moyennes” up to the “grands.”  He asked if I thought Noah would do well with the older children.  I explained that Noah had two older brothers, but had never been to school.  That he was smart, but a bit intense in all of his emotions.  I also said that I did not want to make the decision, but that, whatever happened, I am sure it would eventually work out. 

When we looked at the posted class lists we saw that Noah was placed into the “grands/moyennes” section.  He clung his way through the entry line, but was happy to find his hook with his name, his name tag in the pocket chart and his name on his desk.  We settled in with some Lego, and after five minutes I said it was time for me to go.  Well, I am sure you can all imagine the tears.  I gave a few hugs, and few extra kisses and then let the teacher step in.  I left, knowing that it was only a few short hours until I picked him up for lunch. 

When I returned, the directeur pulled me aside and said that he wanted to switch Noah for the afternoon into the moyennes/petites section because he was so small.  I am sure that the tears did not help.  But poor little Noah had to meet a new teacher and another new set of students on his return for the afternoon.  Lots more tears, but at least this teacher speaks English and is working really hard to help Noah feel more comfortable.  I think that it was probably the better decision, despite the rocky days that we will have this week.  And better to make the changes now, rather than in a month when he has finally acclimated. 

At the end of the day Ed picked up Noah, who we discovered had taken a nap at school.  The poor boy was exhausted, and who can blame him. I went over to the other school to pick up Micah and Julian.  We all met up and decided to walk to get a treat to celebrate the first day in a French school.  And, as always happens with my family, once we are walking out comes all the talking. 

Micah could not come up with a single positive thing to say about his day.  He described his teacher as yelling all the time and as giving him a bit of help, but basically speaking French to him.  He tried to use his new fountain pen, but splattered ink all over his fingers.  (And he tried to wipe it off on the inside of his desk!)  There are no other children in his grade that speak English, and he said that everyone tried to look away from him instead of at him.  So he was feeling quite glum when we picked him up. 

However, after I picked him up for lunch home on the second day, Micah described making a friend from California.  And the work that he did yesterday, despite his claim to not understanding anything, points to at least a bit of comprehension.  And he was describing how today the students all wanted to help him out, especially the little boy who sits next to him.  The teacher today also made a point to help him with some cursive writing, which all the French students already utilize.  So I think the corner will be turned and Micah’s innate charm will begin to work its magic. 

And Julian really surprised me.  He was originally placed in a split class with a French girl that we know and one of the Canadian twins who speaks French.  When he showed up to school on Monday he found himself in a different class altogether, although he thought that it was the other children who had been switched!  Apparently the directrice decided to put all of the English-language speakers into one class so that they can have the option of additional French instruction to catch them up. 

Julian was the child who described the children with whom he spent time, Julian was the one who felt confident about his language.  He nonchalantly described how the teacher would speak to the class.  Then if Julian did not understand she would repeat it several more times slowly and finally give a brief instruction in English if he still did not understand.  Julian was the one who described all of the necessary items we needed to do/purchase before school the next day.  And Julian was the one who sat down happily in the evening to do his homework.  (OK, yes, it also delayed going to bed, but still….)

So, almost two days into our experiences with the French school system, I have to say that I am optimistic.  Optimistic that Noah will adapt and even enjoy school within the next month.  Optimistic that Micah’s sociability will help win him the friends he needs to feel happy in school.  And optimistic that Julian will feel comfortable with his new cohort, and use the year to absorb all of the French that he can. 

And one last bit of optimism… I am optimistic that I will have friends here as well… I have met most of the Anglo parents, and a few of the French parents and I think that we will not fumble alone through our journey here.  And isn’t that really what we all want?