Jedi apprentice
Press and turn. Press and turn. Press and turn ...” As instructed by my son’s grade 2 class teacher, I was trying to form a perfect sphere with the lump of clay she gave me by simply pressing and turning it over and over again in my hands. My fingers were already covered with mud and beads of sweat had started to form on my forehead. Unfortunately, when I took a peek at my supposed work of art, it had so many lumps it looked more like Oscar de la Hoya’s face after his fight with Manny Pacquiao. The teacher looks over and tells me not to think but rather to feel the life-force inherent in the earth-soil and to trust my instincts. I close my eyes and try to imagine waves rhythmically lapping upon the motionless shore. I imagine her as Master Yoda of Star Wars telling the Luke Skywalker in me to, “Feel the force!” Of course, I’m not saying that my son’s teacher looks like Yoda. She’s actually like Chewbacca. What I mean is that she’s not short like Yoda but tall like Chewbacca and not ... In any event, before I dig a deeper hole, suffice to say that I really look up to my son’s teacher who is like a Jedi knight among teachers. I mean, one of the things I instinctively did when I entered her classroom was to check my fingernails!
Our class meetings are never boring as she makes it a point to always let us parents experience some of the things the children do in school. In previous sessions, she made us play a game that illustrates one of the ways Waldorf introduces math to grade two children — by synchronizing the mental process with movement (for example, numbers are introduced through rhythmic counting accompanied by accented clapping and movement of the whole body). Last year, we painted and played (attempted to) the children’s pentatonic lyre and baroque recorder. Today, it is relaxation through art therapy. I must say though that I got a little nervous when she said that she was also happy to report that almost all the children can now tumble backwards and sideways (as part of their movement curriculum). For a moment, I was afraid she was going to ask for volunteers for a demonstration! I sighed with relief when she smilingly told us instead that the children will get a blast from comparing their spheres with those made by the parents. We then proceeded to have an open forum on sibling rivalry.
From the very beginning, my wife and I decided that we were going to actively participate in our children’s education. It is quite tempting in this “fast-food” world of ours to just delegate everything to your kid’s school. But as I wrote in an earlier article, we prefer the “seafood market” type of school where you get to have a say on the ingredients and on how the food gets cooked. It’s not as quick and you also have to do some work, but you get your food just the way you like it. Of course, there is the danger of fouling things up even more and I don’t think there’s such a thing as monosodium glutamate or MSG for children that fathers and mothers can use to cover up their parenting mistakes.
How do we become involved parents without overdoing it? While I want to be an active part of my children’s lives, I don’t want to be a “stage father” either. It’s not just that my kids might resent it. Being too involved could be a slippery slope. I might end up in the “dark side” a la Darth Vader and micromanage the kids’ lives to the detriment of their growth and maturity. I don’t exactly know what I should do and not do. But I guess that if there’s one thing that I am sort of sure of is to try to be there for our kids as often as I can. So either I or my wife always tries to attend the class meetings, which in my children’s school could be as much as four to six times a year (this is in addition to the one-on-one parent-teacher conferences). At least one of us tries to go to all of the school’s festivals and plays; and to volunteer for the field trips and the various other school activities. It is hard work and requires a lot of time. But maybe by just showing up (for our kids to know and see), we already win half of the battle. My heart goes out to all the parents who have to work overseas for financial reasons. Or to those parents who spend abnormally long hours at work in order for their family to survive. How can a society truly be just when it prevents parents from spending adequate time with their children for economic purposes? I suppose there are creative ways to go around this problem. I’m just grateful that at least I have a choice on this matter.
As we finished our discussion on sibling rivalry, everyone agreed that there is no single magic formula. I think that the same is true with the correct way of being an active parent. Maybe the only thing you can do, apart from trying to be there as often as you can, is to trust your instincts. One of the things my son’s teacher told us during our art activity was that if we persevere in pressing and turning the clay, it will eventually form a sphere. Our hands and fingers will unconsciously feel out the imperfections and turn the clay around until, through the repetitive action, it becomes a ball. We interfere with the natural process when we get tense and think too much.
God breathed life into the earth and formed us out of clay. I don’t think it’s blasphemous to say that He gave us our children in unfinished forms so that we can participate in their ongoing creation. Though I also believe that they, and not us their parents, ultimately determine their own final shapes, we can at least help remove some of the lumps. And so, just as I tried to do with the mound of clay my son’s teacher gave me, I try to free my mind and gain strength from the life-force of my children. When things get difficult, I tell myself that I must not stop to “press and turn.” Though I am no Jedi but will forever be a mere apprentice, for the sake of my children, just giving it a “try” is not good enough. As Yoda told Luke, “Try not. Do or do not. There is no try!”
May the Force be with us all.
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