Not only did they look absolutely beautiful, the girls both did an AMAZING job on their dances! Teresa's was a ballet dance to "Sunshine Angel," and Maddy's was a tap dance to "Mr. Sandman." They really knew their routines well, and they both gave it their all - you could really tell they were putting their hearts into it and having a lot of fun. And it's not just me saying that (yeah, I'm just slightly partial!) A whole bunch of people (and even non-related ones, LOL!) came up and told me that my girls were each the best in their classes. Even the moms of some of the other little girls in Maddy's class told me that she was the best! (OK, does the fact that this *made my year* mean that I'm a horrible, evil, stage-mother-in-the-making?)
Steve has been kidding me that I do have the makings of a stage mom. I swear I would never be like that - I would NEVER force my kids to continue in a hobby they didn't like, or pressure them to do anything beyond putting forth their best effort. But I don't think there's anything wrong with taking a little maternal pride in their accomplishments, or feeling some satisfaction that they not only put forth a big effort, but really did quite well - especially after all the time and money we invested in the classes, the costumes, the photos, the hair and makeup, etc.
I admit I was a little taken aback by the attitudes of some of the other moms. There were, of course, a few little girls who came on stage and had that "deer-in-the-headlights" look, and then just stood there on the stage, completely still, for the duration of the routine, not even attempting to remember the steps to the dance. The other moms were laughing at this and saying how cute and adorable it was. Now, yes, I agree that a sweet little 3- or 4-year-old all dolled up in a costume and stage makeup is cute and adorable no matter what, but still, I'll admit I'd be just a bit embarrassed if that were my kid - I don't think I'd be laughing it up with the other moms if I'd just paid hundreds of dollars and spent hours a week for months and months to see my child stand still on the stage. So, again, does that make me a terrible mom? I hope not. I certainly didn't hold it against any of the other kids - except when one of them stood right in front of Maddy! Then I (and my mother!) did get a bit annoyed. If you're going to stand still, fine, but don't stand still right in front of MY kid, who actually has the routine down pat and is dancing her heart out!
In another number (not either of my kids') there was a little girl who started sobbing hysterically every time she went on stage. She'd cry and run offstage, the teacher in the wings would try to get her to go back on, she'd come back on and start bawling and run off again. I did feel bad for her, of course. But I had to think, wasn't there some sign of this earlier in the year? Didn't her parents know her well enough to know this might happen? Couldn't the teacher have suggested that the mom wait another year or so to enroll her, if the little girl wasn't ready to be on stage yet? I don't know. But I'm sorry, you know who I also felt bad for? The girl on the other end of the stage who knew the routine well and was dancing beautifully. Between the crying girl and the girl who was dancing so well, there was a long line of kids who were happy to be on stage but who had no clue what they were doing. The girl who knew the routine was getting so frustrated, desperately pointing and gesturing at her classmates in an effort to remind them where on stage they were supposed to be and what step they were supposed to be on. They weren't crying, but they were giggling and paying no attention. I'm sure it's hard to be the kid who doesn't know what she's doing, but as I know from experience, it's also sometimes quite hard to be the one who does know what she's doing (I never had any talent for dancing, but I know this from other arenas!)
Maddy said to me a week or so before the dress rehearsal, "Mama, it's hard to do my recital dance when the other girls don't do what they're supposed to." And it's true - if you're in a two-line formation where, at a certain point, the lines are supposed to change places, how do you do your step (going up to the front line) if the girl in the front line is not moving from her spot to come to the back line and change places with you? I want to teach her to be a team player, to be in it for the group, and not to be bossy or obnoxious (yeah, I know that one from experience, too - the kid who is best at whatever it is and tries to "help" the others along is not typically rewarded with gratitude and popularity, but rather the label of "teacher's pet" or "nerd" or "show-off"). But I also don't want her to adopt the attitude that excellence is something to be embarrassed about, or that a little bit of competitive spirit is a negative thing, or that popularity in a peer group is worth squashing your own talents and abilities. (There was just an article about this phenomenon in the latest issue of Mothering magazine.) So I told her that if the girls next to her were not remembering the next step, she could gently guide them in a nice way (for example, putting her hands on the shoulders of the girl next to her to signal her when it's time to turn around and do the "train"). I don't know if this was the right thing to do, but it seemed to work.
This all reminds me of an incident that occurred a few months ago. The dance teacher sent home a note with each of the girls in Maddy's class, explaining that behavior had not been good lately, the girls were not coming to class "with their listening ears on" and were fooling around too much. She said that it was getting harder for her to keep control and teach, and asked that we parents please talk to the girls at home about proper behavior in class, following instructions, etc. I felt very bad about this and Steve and I immediately sat down with Maddy and had a talk about expectations in a class setting, the authority of the teacher, and the like. What shocked me was this - the next week, when I heard the other moms discussing the note from the teacher, I joined in and said something like, "Yeah, I felt bad for the teacher. It provided a good learning opportunity for Maddy, though - my husband and I had a talk with her as the teacher suggested." The other moms looked at me like I was nuts. One of them said, "You felt bad for the teacher?! We all felt bad for our poor little girls who were being attacked by her! My husband and I are thinking of writing a note to the school director complaining about her bad attitude toward the kids! She shouldn't be teaching little kids if she can't understand that this is just how 4-year-olds act!" I was dumbfounded! These moms could not possibly fathom that their perfect little girls might have done something that would need correction, and even if they had, they dismissed it as normal and still blamed the teacher.
I don't deny that there are lousy teachers out there who would be too hard on little kids or who would have age-inappropriate expectations of them. That's one of the many, many reasons we had originally planned to homeschool. And certainly, if I had any inkling that this was that sort of a situation, I would have been the first one discussing it with the teacher (yes, with her first, not jumping over her head to her supervisor right away.) But I've watched this class and spoken with this teacher and witnessed her interactions with the girls, and she is a very sweet and gentle person who has an obvious talent for working with young kids.
I think one of the biggest problems with our society today is what's been called the "cult of mediocrity" - the sort of dumbing-down, lowest-common-denominator approach that often pervades our schools, our workplaces, our government, our culture. Son not getting good grades? Don't help him study more effectively, drug him up with Ritalin. Daughter doesn't like her teacher? Don't help her learn how to get along with other people, just threaten to stop donating to the school if she's not moved to a different class. Steve saw this sort of thing all the time at the expensive private schools where he taught for years. Everything is someone else's problem, and anything difficult isn't worth working at or sacrificing for.
And then we wonder why many of us in Gen X and Gen Y can't hold down jobs, can't keep relationships from dissolving, aren't happy unless everything is going our way. We rush to divorce court at the first sign of discord. We switch from breastfeeding to artificial feeding at the first twinge of discomfort or perceived inconvenience. We leave our place of worship the first time we're challenged by its teachings. We (or our therapists) find someone else on whom to pin the blame for whatever issues arise in our lives.
I realize it might be a stretch to extrapolate from a preschoolers' dance class to a societal diagnosis, but I think it's valid. It just might start when a mom tells her 4-year-old, "It's OK honey, you don't have to do the dance if you don't want to, and don't listen to that mean old teacher either - you just do whatever you want." It's not a choice between that and pressuring the poor kid into a heart attack over the dance routine, where she thinks she's not loved and valued unless she excels at everything. That's a false dichotomy that I hear way too often. There's an appropriate middle ground where you encourage the child to do her best, and to really make an effort to push past her comfortable limits - where you let her know that she is loved no matter what, and you're proud of her regardless, but yet teach her that SHE will be most proud of HERSELF when she tries harder and reaches farther and doesn't take the easy way out.
Well, it sounds good anyway. Ask me again in about 10 years. :)
In the meantime, my little dancers ROCKED. They outdid themselves, and I am REALLY proud of them. So if that makes me a stage mother, so be it. ;)
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