New kid in school

Angelica recently started at a new school. I switched her after three years in her former school. At her old school, she was so happy that she would whine every time school holidays came around. She loved going to school. I don’t even remember ever liking school, much less loving it.

But now, with the new environment, new teachers and new classmates, she was having trouble adjusting. She was excited the first few days, but then reality set in. She missed her old friends who would greet her excitedly with hugs and smiles every morning. They were giggly and always laughing. Here, she was the new kid in class; she didn’t know any of the girls and they didn’t know her.

After two weeks at the new school, she told me the best thing about school was going home. It broke my heart. This is the girl who used to climb into bed voluntarily at nine every night so that she’d be well-rested to take on the next fun-filled school day. This is the girl who used to wish the weekend would go faster so that she could go to school again on Monday.

So last week, I spoke to her new teacher. I asked her how Angelica was doing. She kept to herself mostly, she told me. She was doing well in lessons, but when it came to break time and lunch, she would sit alone and watch the other kids play. Give her time, the teacher said.

To quote my friend who said to me with much drama: “What have you done?” (Note to friend: You’re not really helping, you know.)

In my defence, it really is a better school. Also the uniform is nicer. I’m kidding.

Really.

Okay, so Angelica didn’t like her former school from day one. For about a year and a half, she cried every morning when I dropped her off. I’m not kidding.

It was in the middle of the second year that she started making friends and finding her place. From then on, there was no looking back. Where before she would always answer with an “I don’t know” every time I asked her about school, she started coming home and telling me story after story about how much fun she had. She started making friends. At home, she would make little drawings for them, and make me buy stickers so that she could exchange them with her friends.

There is hope. But I am hoping it won’t take one and a half years this time.

She’s almost six now, and she has better socialisation skills than she did three years ago. She is an easy-going girl, and I’m sure she’ll make friends once she becomes more familiar with them.

I told her that she could take her time getting to know the other girls, no forcing.

I said that if she felt like being alone for a while, until she got used to the new school, she could. I told her that though her current teacher is different from her previous one (whom she loved), it was still cool, because every teacher taught differently. I told her that if any of the kids were mean to her, to just stay away from them.

What I really want to do, though, is to stomp into class and make every kid be friends with her. I’ll bribe them if I have to. I want to tell the girls: “Come and hug Angelica every morning before class!” I want to sit there beside her and keep her company when she’s eating lunch by herself.

But I can’t. Because this is her journey. She has to take the steps herself.

This is a chance for learning and growth. Every one has been the new kid on the block, at one time or another. It’s a necessary rite of passage and it will make her a better, stronger person. She’ll learn that change is always hard, but it opens doors to new experiences.

I know all that. My brain comprehends the logic of it.

But it doesn’t make it easier, not one little bit. So next week, I think I’m going to school with a big bag of lollipops for her classmates.

Elaine Dong wants all kids to be friends, because it makes the world a better place. She blogs at www.angelolli.com.