Last Friday, Gracie had her second grade orientation.  This is the third year we’ve done this – we go in, meet her teacher, drop off her school supplies, look around to see who she knows in her class, and then head out after a few minutes, excited for the first day of school the following Monday.

The two weeks before orientation this year were a little bumpy.  Honestly, the whole summer was a bit of a bumpy ride around here but the last two weeks were even a little rougher.  I need to write about all of that, but it’s a whole long post that I need to work out first in my mind before I write it all down.  But, on the day of orientation, as we walked into the school, it seemed like things were settling down .  We had Gracie’s teacher assignment;  she had one of the certified gifted teachers, even though she’s not in the gifted program. ( In Gracie’s school, if there are enough students, the school creates a self-contained gifted class.   I assumed since Gracie was assigned to the teacher that the second grade class didn’t have enough children for a self-contained class).   Gracie already knew most of the children in her class and we’d actually found everything on her school supply list.  We were early, which if you know us, was a small miracle. 

Gracie was the first one into her class.  She got to spend a little time talking to the teacher.  I was able to sign up as a parent volunteer.  One of Gracie’s friends came in and the two girls giggled about who was sitting next to each other and they walked around the room, pointing out all the things that interested them.  Gracie was glowing with excitement.  As we were leaving, I happened to ask the teacher what Gracie would be doing when the other children went to the gifted program.   The teacher looked a little taken aback but she recovered nicely.  She said, “If she’s in this class, she’ll go with them.  If they put her in here, here is where she’s supposed to be.” 

I should have been relieved, but there was a small voice whispering that something wasn’t quite right.  So, I went and found the gifted program director and explained the situation to her – that Gracie isn’t in the gifted program but was in the class.  The director pulled up her records and said she needed to go and talk to the principal to see what was going on because the class was supposed to be self-contained.  She wanted to check and see if maybe there weren’t quite enough children to fill the class and they’d placed Gracie in there because of her standardized test results.  She told us to finish up the other things on our list (signing Gracie up for piano lessons and me up for the PTA) and then come back and she’d have an answer for us. 

We walked up and down the halls.  Gracie was holding my hand and I hoped that she didn’t pick up on the tension I was feeling.  I should tell you here Gracie had a really, really rough summer.  Her self esteem has taken multiple hits over the last several months.  She doubts her intelligence, her ability to have friends, pretty much everything.  I knew that if we had to pull her out of this class, she would take it personally.

After we finished signing up for the PTA (the piano teacher wasn’t there yet), we found the gifted program director talking to the principal.   She told us we needed to go down to the principal’s office and see what happened.  As we walked down the hall, the principal chatted on about how sorry she was and she didn’t see how this could have happened.  I could see Gracie’s face start to crumble and I could feel the anxiety in her little hand as it clutched mine, tighter and tighter.  As we rounded the corner into her office, the principal said, in a voice loud enough for my baby to hear,  “Well, she can’t be in that class.  All those children are gifted.”.

What my child heard was, “I’m not smart enough to be in that class”.

The tears started.  I wish that I could say the only tears were Gracie’s because what she needed in that moment was for me to be strong.  But, as I stood there watching my baby’s spirit be crushed yet again, any strength I had took a hiatus and I couldn’t hold the tears back.  As we sat there and listened to the principal apologize for neglecting to check Gracie’s paperwork before assigning her to that class and asking if I had another teacher in mind for her, I tried to keep my tears from dissolving into full-blown sobs.  Gracie stood behind me, tears racing down her cheeks.  I asked the principal if we could talk to Gracie’s first grade teacher before we put her in another class so I could get her opinion.  The principal agreed.  Gracie and I walked down the long hall to her first grade classroom.  As soon as we walked in, I knew we’d come to the right place.

Gracie’s teacher immediately knew something was wrong. And, if I loved her teacher before Friday (which I did), that love has multiplied by a million.  When I explained the situation, the first thing she did was take Gracie by the shoulders, lean down to her level, look her square in the eye, and say, “Grace.  I want you to listen to me.  This did not happen because you are not smart.  This mix-up happened because you are so very smart.”  And Gracie’s tears dried up instantly because her teacher’s word, in her mind, is gospel.  (Unfortunately, mine did not dry up as quickly, although I think they were more from relief at this point).  The next thing her teacher did was to help us figure out a second grade teacher.  She worked with the gifted program director and between the two of them, they selected a teacher for Grace, cleared it with the principal, explained the situation to the new teacher and the original teacher, and took Gracie’s school supplies from the old classroom to the new one.  Their grace and kindness made what could have been a very difficult situation a lot less so.  Gracie and I walked down and met her second new teacher of the day and Gracie was happy as a clam.

Gracie loves her new teacher (this weekend, she sat down and made her a beautiful card and wrote her a very sweet note).   I think that as bumpy as the road was to get there, it’s going to be a wonderful situation for Grace.  The new teacher said to me that her gift was building children’s self-esteem, which Gracie needs more than anything right now.

I am so thankful for everyone who helped us on Friday.  I spent a couple of hours feeling slightly disoriented.  Gracie bounced back much faster than I did!  I regret that I did not hold it together as well as I should have for her sake.  I regret that I didn’t question her teacher assignment when we got it in the mail earlier in the week and could have possibly worked it all out without Gracie ever knowing or feeling like she was inadequate.  I regret that I didn’t find somewhere to leave her when I went to talk to the principal so she wouldn’t have heard the principal’s ill-timed words.  But, I am glad that I did think to ask at orientation rather than waiting to let the school realize their error and have her pulled out of class after school started.  I am so grateful to the wonderful teachers and the gifted program director who smoothed the way for both of us.  And, I am glad that this happened to us and not someone new to the school  I knew where to go and what questions to ask.  Gracie had champions for her.  A new student might have been lost in the shuffle.  More than anything I am so thankful that Gracie bounded off to school on Monday morning with a smile on her face!