We had a breakthrough

Big Girl has been complaining for more than a year that she hates school. When I bring out the math, she's especially bad about it. Whining, complaining, foot-dragging, and, occasionally, actual tears.

I could NOT figure out her problem. She's really a bright girl, and her reading abilities are astounding to me. She likes to do science, and she is an extremely logical child, which is part of why I was puzzled about the math phobia. Math is all about logic, math doesn't change. She should be all over that stuff!

The night before last, I went to tuck the girls into bed, and I unplugged a digital alarm clock that had its cord strung across a space between the shelf on her bunk bed and the wall. Not really safe, plus they had to unplug the night light to have it there.

"I worked so hard to set that! It took two tries!" Big Girl moaned. She threw herself onto her pillow.

"You really don't need that clock, honey. I'll fix it in the morning."

Big Girl started to cry a little.

"Honey?"

"It's not important. You don't think it's important, and so it's just not."

Okay, more at work here than an alarm clock, I figured. But I went back, apologized, and set up the clock in a new location where both girls could easily see it from bed. I set the clock for them again.

"Okay, it's all set up. Now you can see it."

"It's not important! Nevermind! You wrecked it!" More tears. By now, I'm completely bewildered. It is DEFINITELY not about the clock. The clock has become a scapegoat.

"Sweetie?" I climbed the ladder and sat on the top bunk while Big Girl hid her head under her arms and stuck her face deep into her pillow. "What is going on? Why are you so upset?"

After a lot of rambling on about various stuff, it finally came out. School has actually become scary. When she thinks of school, she feels like "everything is pressing down on me." I asked if it was math and thinking about doing math.

"That's part of it. I just don't get it. It's hard, and no matter what I can't get my brain to think about it. I just don't understand!!!"

Now this is brand-new information. NEVER has Big Girl said she didn't understand something! When I ask if she gets it, the answer has been yes!

"Honey, have you been telling me that you get it when there are parts you didn't understand?"

"Yes."

I explained that my goal was not to rush her through school so she could go to college at 16. My goal was to be sure she understood the things that I taught her. She admitted that, though she didn't really think it was true, she felt like she was supposed to just get finished fast. As in, finish all the grades ahead of schedule! Obviously, this is not what I want, and I reassured her of that.

After a bit more talking together, I also discovered that, occasionally, she has had some difficulty with a few books I've sent her way. Some books, Babe in particular, have accents in the writing and spelling of the book. This is a really hard thing, and I let her know that it was fine to put them away for later. I told her about how I had to read some parts of The Grapes of Wrath out loud because I didn't understand how things were spelled.

Then we talked about the importance of not going on with math until she understood what we'd already done. I likened it to building a house on sand. I re-told a story about David, a boy who was in my third grade class during my first year of teaching public school. David had been passed from grade to grade (this was insisted upon by his mother over his teachers' objections) until he arrived in third grade with nearly no reading, writing, or spelling skills. He read like a typical beginning-of-the-year first grader. But when I gave him science tests orally, he got 100%. David was a really smart boy. But his education was a house built on sand, and he was struggling with all his might to catch up. He was nearly ready to give up until I let him take tests orally. And, just when I was developing a plan for helping him to catch up a bit more, his mother lost custody of him, and he was suddenly moving to North Carolina. I wrote a long and detailed note to his teachers, advising that he needed LOTS of help with reading, but he was smart enough to be able to do tests orally until he was able to read better. I highly recommended retaining him at the end of the year, just based on how far behind the poor kid was.

I asked her if she wanted to review second grade math, to go back and re-do some parts. I told about taking Trigonometry in high school, first with Alegebra II/Trig, which I did mediocre on once we got to Trig, which I nearly failed, and later with Pre-Calculus. My first day in class, I was feeling happy because I'd managed to escape from Trig. I wanted to move on. I hated Trig. I did not get it at all. And that first day, there stood the very same math teacher as I'd had the year before, and he said, "Welcome to Pre-Calculus. This class is, basically, Trig in depth." I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. I came about "that close" to failing the course completely. And when I went to college, I took it again. (I actually started my college career with it.) I was determined to get it this time. And you know what? It made sense. And I passed it, but not until I had to repeat the material. (As a side note, I got straight A's when I took it in college. I'm not sure how much was the teacher and how much was that I needed a review of the material, but that's not imporant in the long run.)

Big Girl agreed to look at second grade math again. We decided we'd look again at the tests and see what we should review. She agreed that this was a good idea, and was actually happy about it! She also promised me that she'd tell me when she doesn't understand the material - but that she wouldn't just start in with "I hate school." That's not good enough; she has to tell me what she didn't get so I can go over it again! Big Girl agreed with that, too.

Finally, I left her room at 10:45. It had been more than an hour and a half since I'd gone in to tuck her into bed for the night. Hubby and I talked about this potential breakthough, and I prayed that I'd be up to the task and ready to do what was necessary.

Then, yesterday, I knew we'd had a breakthrough when I tucked the girls into bed.

"Mommy? Can we go back do fractions again? I don't think I understood them very well."

Absolutely! And I do believe we'll have to eat pizza to talk about them!

So today we begin our school year, just like it's a new year. And I think it's going to be a good year, too.