Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

Today has been an interesting day as far as motherhood goes.  I have seen excitement, determination and utter despair of a group of 6 year olds.  I have glimpsed a whole new set of challenges coming up my way, and I don’t know if there is a specific method of dealing with them.

For 4 weeks, the girls have been practicing (and I use the word lightly) for a little mini-Olympic sports day- running, little hurdles, throwing, ‘high-jump’, ‘long-jump’, and today was D-day.  Last night clothes were carefully chosen and laid out, cakes were baked and cut for the after-party, sun-cream crammed into my handbag.

This morning, after I shut off the alarm and flopped back on my pillows for half a minute, I was kissed on my check by a fully kitted out Alex.  She’d woken up early, had dressed, and was ready for her breakfast. The little one took a little more persuasion to wear a red shirt, but by 7h30, when I was ready to attack the shower, the girls had their school bags on, and were waiting at the door.

Once at school, I prepared myself to assist with some other mum’s- the first time I have offered my help- and was directed to assist with the Moyen (middle age-group) section International class.  Beth was so excited to just have me at school during the morning, she happily let me go.  Alex too showed great strength and let me leave her classroom without batting an eye.

I won’t bore you with the details of what 180 children between the ages of 3 and 6 got up to, and between 9 and 11h30, us mums dragged the kiddies around, marking their scores and moving them onto the next task.  We had moments of shambles and cluelessness- especially yours truly trying to ask a Franco-German speaking 4 year old boy to do something.  By 11h30, scores were tallied up, and as I was spending time with Beth, Alex’s class were given scores, and 6 medals were awarded to the winners in  each category.

6 medals.  30 little boys and girls aged between 5 and 6. 30 children who had all been so excited at the event, and who had all tried their best, but 24 hearts were broken when they did not receive medals.

I headed up to Alex’s class to collect her so we could head home for lunch; she dropped whatever she was doing, and as she walked over to me, her face crumpled. her eyes scrunched up, her mouth turned into an awful, sad grimace, and once away from her teacher, she burst into a flood of uncontrollable tears.

Poor Beth had no idea what the tears were for (and they had not received medals at that stage anyway), and it took Alex a full 20 minutes to stop crying in such utter despair, no matter how much I tried to console her.

What’s important to realise here?  Do we adopt a slightly antipodean approach to sports, that being to push the little ones to achieve at sports at all costs, or as my American friends suggest; to feel that everyone deserves a medal for participating, and doing their best?

Personally, I’m okay with the fact that Alex didn’t receive a medal.  Yes, her heartbreak meant my own heart was very sore- “My baby girl, really, its not the end of the world”- really does not stop the tears and make her feel any better.  Neither does it help to talk about sportsmanship, or taking pride simply for achieving.  She is 6 years old.  But perhaps this is a learning curve, that there are winners and second-placed people in life, and to be at the top of their game, you have to work to get there.

Alex’s teacher must have seen all the tears, because when we arrived for afternoon pick-up, her mood was buoyant- exuberant even.  At the after-party and prize-giving everyone who participated received a certificate of participation, and my child explained to me that her teacher had told them that she had lost all the other medals, which is why they had not all received them.

As I have sat here writing this, I realise that for Alex it was not really about being a winner- I don’t think she understands it just yet.  She was more perturbed at not receiving a medal.

She had also expressed concern that a peer had told her she received zero points for one activity, which I imagine was probably true- throwing a bean bag through a circle from 1 meter away has never been high on my list of skill expectation, and I suspect that the bean-bag went awry.

Given time to reflect, I realise that so much has happened in the last 12 months, that we have not really given the girls a well-rounded education.  In SA, we had only just reached the level of extra-mural activities- PlayBall and swimming lessons.  However, in the last 12 months, we have lived in various different places, we have been without our belongings for 4 months, we have learnt a new language, we have learnt how to eat new food, we have made new friends, we have learnt how to ride bicycles, and I almost want to say- that’s enough for 12 months.  Naturally, the objective for year 2 will be to enroll the girls in extra-mural activity, and to start the process of teaching Alex about how to be the best that she can be.

All said and done, we received Alex’s report card in the afternoon.  She has achieved amazing results- for a 6 year old- and most importantly, was her teacher telling me how well Alex has settled, and how well she has picked up the French language. (well, that’s what I suspect she said, I might have misunderstood her French)  My big girl has passed her first year in a French class- she finishes Maternelle next Friday, and has been granted access to CP at big school, at the International School. And while I had no concerns about her getting into the International School (the kiddies had to do an English test in order to pass through), I do wonder: if her French has not been good enough, would they have let her through?  I can only guess.