at all cost

I picked up my boy from VPK today. You know, those precocious 4 and 5 year olds. So dramatically involved in the adventure of life. I strongly suggest for aspiring actors to hang out in any pre-k classroom to study the entire spectrum of emotional expressions that are out there. Anyways, this little girl was in the open washroom. Bawling her little heart out. Not just any bawling. Crying snot and tears. While the teacher was on the carpet with the rest of the class for reading time. A couple more parents trickled in to pick up their kids. Was I the only one hearing this little girl? Perplexed I went inside the washroom and approached her, realizing the pain she was expressing was not just an “ I got a boo boo” cry, not even a temper-tantrum screech. It was the wailing of having lost something precious. The cry of abandonment. As I talked to her and attempted to calm her down, the teacher’s aide came in and said “ she gets like that sometimes, we just let her cry it out”. Blank stare coming from me. I literally needed that extra moment to let that sink in. None of the other parents made any efforts, being concerned only with their own child, keeping that routine of their pick up process going. The teacher on the carpet made no attempt to get involved, struggling to keep the other children’s focus on her. Of course, I did not expect any of the children to demonstrate compassion towards their classmate, as I am sure that they had been told to stay quiet and on the carpet. Since the girl was calming down and the teacher’s aid took over my efforts to make her feel better, I headed out. Passing the administrator at the door on her way in to investigate the matter at hand, I couldn’t shake off that feeling. That icky feeling of how it seems ok to watch someone in such dire distress and not reach out. How we are teaching our children that ignoring matters of the heart takes precedence just to keep the routine of the social norm going at all cost.