Victor’s Preschool Journal (Spring 2008)

April 8: I spoke with Ms. S and told her that Victor hadn't been hit for a few days. He is more relaxed, happier and rarely talks about N. She said: "Don't tell M, I'm like Victor's bodyguard." I cannot be more grateful.

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April 9: Yesterday on the playground N hit Victor’s eyes and nose. Victor cried and went to an adult for help. I’ve had it! I told Victor to say, “I’m not your friend. I won’t play with you unless you stop hitting.” He said S told them not to say such things. I said to N you can and should. If N continues to hit you, you have to defend yourself, or I will transfer you to another school. He cried and wouldn’t go to the P Preschool. He said they do a lot of timeouts and he hated it. There’s no perfect balance between discipline and freedom. I told him to defend himself and go to the adults for help.

The supervising adult told me, “Victor loves to play with N, but N hits him. It makes me so sad to watch him get hit. It’s very sad.” If the bully maims him, I’ll call the police. The school will be responsible.

In the morning I spoke with Ms. P about the incident. She asked Victor to go to her when he needed help. I spoke with S that Victor couldn’t nap yesterday when the new girl cried. She said they moved the other kids away from her during the naptime.

S said Victor is growing. He gets hungry in the afternoon and eats a lot of fruit and snack. He ate an orange yesterday and later ate a bowl of strawberries. “You’re growing big,” S said, her face glowing with pride. I agreed to pack him some fruit or other snack.

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4/9/2008 8:11 PM When I picked up Victor, I asked: “Did you get hit today?”

Victor: “No, I played with N. He didn’t hit me or push me.”

Y: Why did you play with him? What if he hit you?

V: But he didn’t.

Y: What if he hits you tomorrow?

V: He didn’t hit or push me today.

I had to leave it at that. Fifteen minutes later I brought up the subject again.

V: I said to him, “I play with you, if you don’t hit or push me. If you hit me, I won’t play with you.”
N said, “OK.” It means he agreed. So he didn’t hit or push me today.

I am so proud of Victor.

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4/10/2008 10:13 PM When I picked up Victor, I asked, “Did you get hit today?”

V: N hit me.

Y: Didn’t you tell him not to hurt you, or you won’t play with him anymore?

V: I told him. He hit my back. Then I hit his belly, his ugly belly.

I never saw his belly. Victor said N liked to pull up his shirt and show his “ugly” belly.

Y: Did you tell the teacher?

V: Yes, I told Ms. S and P. They told him to sit in a chair.

They don’t do time-outs, so sitting in a chair is all that they could do.

Y: Have you hit other kids before?

V: No.

Y: Don’t hit other children, not anyone else. You always tell N not to hit you. But if he hits you first, you know what to do.

V: N hit A and hurt her hand. She cried. Teachers made him sit in a chair. N cried today.

Y: Why?

V: He slipped from the slide.

3-year-old N also hit 2 tall 5-year-old children. S (a sweet, adorable girl) hit him back. NA (a boy) was so tall he looked like a teenager, but even he cried after N hit him one time. It must have hurt. Everyone finds their way to cope.

Over the years I’ve fallen in love with Victor’s classmates: S was a beautiful girl, and I liked her mother.
B was a 3-year-old cutie who looked like Oliver.
J was a handsome boy, gentleman-like, and his mother was friendly and considerate. Sometimes she swept the floor and chatted with me. Today I saw J pat girl M’s back affectionately.
R used to be sweet on Victor.
NA and F hit Victor before, but now they played well together.
Victor was fond of E, a cute boy. One day in January N pushed Victor, who fell on E. E had a bloody nose. He bled so much I almost fainted. I admired his parents for not transferring him to another class. His two elder sisters had been in this class before.
Richard graduated last year, he was a buddy to Victor.
Teddy and Nathan (the twins) were smart and friendly.
Victor also liked Michelle who graduated.
Victor said most people in his class were good, except for two.

It hadn’t always been easy. When Victor first started, he couldn’t speak English. When he peed his pants, he let the sun dry up his pants and shoes. Gradually he warmed up to his teachers. Now he adores them like Goddesses. They’re also sweet to him. P said, “Victor is our favorite.”

Victor brought toy cars to share with A and B. A looked at his cars and said, “I don’t like them.” He brought the car again next week. I asked him why? He said, “Last time I brought two cars, she didn’t like them. Now I bring one, she’ll like it.” What does he know about girls?

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4/15/2008 4:26 PM Last Friday 4/11/08 I talked to Ms. P. Victor had a good day because N didn’t hit him. P said N needed to learn to socialize: he tended to get excited and start punching and pushing. When he was frustrated, he threw things. At school Victor had self-control and didn’t let things overwhelm him, but with me he was much more expressive: clingy and explosive at times. P said some kids act out at home, and some at school. N acts out at school.

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4/15/2008 10:30 PM Today N pulled Victor’s ear so hard he cried. Victor told Ms. J and P. They sat him down. N didn’t apologize. At night Victor said his right ear still hurt.

I asked: Did you pull his ear?

He said: No.

Y: Why did he pull your ear?

V: I don’t know.

Y: Could you not play with him?

V: But he came to play with me!

Victor couldn’t say no to friendship. I could identify with that, although it made me a bit sad. Some “friend” can hurt you more deeply than a sworn enemy; in fact, they always do because they have access to your heart and/or body.

V: S went down the slide and bumped into N who was climbing up. N cried. S said, “Sorry,” so she didn’t have to sit in the chair.

Y: Can you stay away from N like other kids?

V: But N followed me when I played. I didn’t ride the bike today. Other kids did, F, T, N and NI.

My India Trip 2006 (I)

Nov. 18, 2006. I barely made the flight, as usual. I sat beside a friendly Indian man, an Aries/Pisces family man (who called himself a sentimental fool) in love with his Sagittarius wife. After the 14-hour flight, my legs felt broken. It was hot when I arrived at the Delhi Airport. Outside the gate, many dozens name plaques were held by taxi drivers expecting their clients. I tried to read the names, when a man called me and winked. He didn’t have my name. Then I saw Qin wearing a white tee shirt. An Indian man in black uniform took over my cart. I asked Qin if he knew the man. He said yes, the man was the taxi driver. We went to the car and put my luggage inside. He drove a small Honda. Qin said it was equivalent to Civic. The driver spoke softly in fluent English. We left the airport. He ran a red light and I was flabbergasted. I was surprised by the dirt and squalor on the streets. The gorgeous pictures in my tour book gave me an illusion that India was a garden country. Silly me thought we would soon get on the highway and leave the slums behind. Cows wandered the streets, stray dogs and homeless people lived in dirt, men peed on the streets. Qin said a TV program criticized people who urinated on the streets. India was much poorer than the coastal China that I knew.

Marriott Hotel was incredibly luxurious compared to the squalor on the streets. I was abhorred. The breakfast buffet was a delicious feast, which I appreciated after the bad food on the plane.

We went sightseeing in Delhi. First we stopped by his office and met his colleagues (the service department). They were crammed in an apartment without AC. The work condition was hard, but the young men seemed optimistic. Delhi was full of gangly, bustling young men, while fewer women walked the streets. I looked out of the car window. A young man sat in an auto rickshaw rode away. He was slim, leggy and beautifully clean-cut. While our car waited at a red light, a handicapped boy thumped our window with his deformed arm. I froze, frightened out of my wits. Only after our car passed did I steal a glance at him. How this poor creature managed to grow up I didn’t know.

We saw the Indian Gate, Government Buildings, etc. All the fountains were dry, and people walked on the pool floor. Dust was everywhere. Women dug holes on the scraggly lawn in front of the Indian Gate. Teenage boys had their step training there. Chinese President Hu was visiting so parts of the city were closed. The driver took us shopping (The Silk Palace) and I bought two Indian suits under coercion: a sandy top for 1100 rupees, a blue and red woven suit for 2000 rupees, and a tan pashmina scarf for 500 rupees. They served us tea and the shopgirl kept saying how nice “Madam” looked. The driver told me to get sari but I wouldn’t bare my belly. Finally we went to see Qutb Minar (part of the Mehrauli Archaeological Park). The buildings/tower were majestic, and so was the landscaping. Such a waste it was built for dead people, worship, etc.

He took us to a nice place for lunch. Afterwards he showed us his office site and gave me a dozen flowers (mostly gladiolus and lilies). They were wilting but they were lovely. He also invited us to visit his house. I didn’t know if he was serious. The nicest area in Delhi seemed to be the Embassy Avenue. The lawn was well kept. Whenever our car stopped, beggars pounded our windows. Sometimes women held their children. Our driver ignored them, while I was nervous.

I bought a wooden elephant from the store downstairs. The water in the swimming pool was too cold, so the pool was mostly for show. We went outside after dark to a local mall/market, where I bought a cotton suit for 650 rupees. I was so tired I was barely able to make it back.

How teachers respond to the hitting

The next day (March 28, 2008) I talked to Victor’s teachers: S and P. They were eager to know about my talk with the director. Perhaps they had been given the same answer and wanted to know if I had better luck.

I told them: either Victor had to leave or we should tolerate it. Victor would rather be hit every day than go to another class.

P: That’s so sweet.

S: Oh, but that is so sad. [She looked away.]

S came up with a plan: designate a teacher to shadow N every day.

I saw them doing it sometimes, but shadowing a three-year-old for 8 hours/day is easier said than done, especially on the playground. I read that an Olympic track champion once followed his 2.5-year-old boy and imitated his moves. By noon he collapsed in exhaustion. I have only gratitude and admiration for Victor’s teachers. They are on my side, and I feel supported.

Y: Thank you so much. I know how difficult this is when you have 20 other children to work with. But this is for N’s own good. I heard he’s tuned down.

S: He’s still hitting. With this plan I feel more confident.

Y: I hope he’ll change. It’s for everyone, most of all for N.

S: I know, and it’s your right to be concerned. I want Oliver to be here, so this is a family issue.

Actually I’m not sure if I want Oliver to go through this. He’ll be three in May. He has plenty of time to grow up. I don’t want it to start with N if I can help it. Oliver doesn’t know English so it’ll be hard for him to protect/stand up for himself. But, I love S and hope that Oliver will have the benefit of her guidance.

Every day I ask Victor if he was hit at school. Sometimes he says, “I don’t know.” “I forgot.” He may not want me to make a big deal of it, but I have to ask. Yesterday (April 2) he said, “N hit A twice. She cried two times because she was hurt.” A was like Victor’s “girlfriend,” although he said, “Eww.”

A part of me thinks something is wrong if a gentle child gets hit, s/he should cry and get over it. I don’t want to go to a team meeting and be pushed down to the floor. I get up and say, “My coworker is a spirited man.”

I don’t think I can ever do that. If I can, something vital inside me must have died.