The residential schools have long long roots. As I tried to pull my screaming seven year old down the street to the school bus this morning and seriously lost my cool when she missed that bus, I realized that I was responding to history and a deep fear of the school, of all the little messages we get that we don't get our child to school enough. I didn't listen to my child and her reasons for not getting on that bus, but my own fear of having to explain to those authorities that she was absent. Maybe all that is in my head but it feels viscerally real. I feel the history of that relationship with school still there.
Last year, instead of believing that Runa was learning disabled as we suggested, the teacher told us that Runa was not learning to read because she was missing too much school. Turns out that she did not want to go to school as her teacher was mean to her about not learning how to read fast enough. This summer we found out that Runa can't even see the letters much of the time. I am so mad at myself for letting the school influence who I am as a parent. I am ashamed of my reactions. I hope that these are teachable moments when I come to Runa and ask forgiveness, but it is humbling as a parent.