When I realised that the schools were going to be closing due to the coronavirus, my initial thoughts were, “I am not a teacher, what do I know about History, Science and Algebra? How am I going to combine doing my job as well as home-schooling my 3 kids? What if they don’t want to study at all?” The anxiety was rising up in my body thinking of all the problems I could potentially face and yet when the first day of home-schooling arrived, the reality was a completely different one.
We had transformed a room in our house into a makeshift classroom, we had a table in there with a few chairs, lots of notepads, pens, pencils and a few whiteboards. The kid’s schedules I made over the weekend were on the wall and I was very apprehensive. Sure, I was a mum, and in some ways I had educated my children up until now, but this was different.
My 8-year-old was ecstatic with the “school” set up. It wasn’t because of the novelty of the classroom, it wasn’t even because of the fun learning props I had set up, or the fact he could turn up in his rugby kit, but it was because in his own words, he could just “get on and learn without the worry of being bullied”. This realisation completely blew my mind, he was excited because there would be no bullies and the fact that he was free to learn, was enough for him. He had no idea of what I had planned or whether he would enjoy it, but he was open-minded, full of optimism and enthusiasm. This really brought home how much he had had to endure on a daily basis. Not only was he expected to sit and listen to his teacher, he also had to participate in class, and do his ultimate best, all the while looking over his shoulder.
Our first day of home-schooling went really well, I had been doing my best to make it fun and interesting and the boys were all completing their last tasks of the day and I thought, this home-schooling malarkey might not actually be that bad. But then, as my 8-year-old attempted to finish the last question of his multiplication challenge, my 11-year-old innocently said “that’s not how you do it, you’ve done it wrong”. My 8-year-old immediately put down his pencil and began to sob into his hands. “What did I say?” my eldest asked innocently.
That’s when I realised how deep the effects of his bullying ran, how even an innocent comment from his older brother could rock his confidence so much that he was now reluctant to even finish the quiz, convinced he couldn’t do it. My oldest son was mortified “What did I say?” he kept asking. It wasn’t at all about what my eldest had said and 100% about what my 8-year-old had heard. My eldest was trying to help him, by explaining that he had worked it out in an overly complicated way, but my 8-year-old had heard only that “HE WASN’T CAPABLE OF DOING IT RIGHT AND HE HAD DONE IT ALL WRONG”, words he was so used to hearing from school bullies.
I sat the boys together so they could clear the air. My eldest explained that he was only trying to make it easier for his brother to work out the mathematical problem and there was no malice involved at all. My 8-year-old explained, that maybe he had overreacted but that he was tired of constantly having to try and ignore negative comments from bullies at school. Now that he was at home, he just wanted to get on and learn in peace. They hugged it out and apologised to each other, but it was at that point that I realised, the things we needed to work on at home would not just be Maths and English, but Resilience, Confidence and Self-belief.
© M.G. Vaciago 2020. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.