Thursday, May 17, 2012

Free Dress and Water Balloons: Breaking the Rules and Moving On . . .

Today was the last day of eighth grade for my granddaughter.  She attends a local parochial school and has spent the last ten years (pre-K-8th) conforming to the rules and regulations of the school.  While she has, on a rare occasion, had a "mark" or gotten her name on the board, she has been an exemplary student. 

She does well academically, is very active in extra-curricular activities, participates in student government, works the fund-raisers, and volunteers to bring cookies when no one else can.  Her mother, my daughter, has been the room mother for this group of children for the long haul.  A working mother, she has never failed to do the "super-mom" thing even if it meant staying up past midnight because the Halloween cookies needed to be iced. 

Our family has supported the school (even though we are of a different faith) by attending mass for all "special" occasions, attending festivals, supporting fund raisers, and generally doing all the things that supportive grandparents and aunts do when they want to be a significant part of a child's educational experience.

Today, however, on the last day of 8th grade (the day ended at noon), this model student decided to be a little rebellious.  She and her pals decided they would violate school dress code.  So they arranged to wear their 8th-grade T-shirts, wigs, sunglasses, and silly shoes.  They also brought water balloons to school in coolers for the outside party that was scheduled for mid-morning.

The principal, whom I like and respect, was not amused.  The 8th graders were met at the door and informed that they would have to call their parents and arrange to have "proper" clothes brought to school.  My granddaughter used her "free dress day" card that she had been saving up, so, technically, there was nothing that could be done.  From the looks of the damp and dripping children romping on the grounds when I picked up my charge at noon, not many of the other 8th graders changed into uniforms either.

I was told (by her) that she had been admonished for being disrespectful by wearing non-uniform clothes, and the principal sent out the word that the "ring leader" would be identified and dealt with.  She said that when she met the principal in the hall, she (the principal) made a "mean face" at her. 

The threat of punishment, however, did not dampen the enthusiasm of the 8th graders.  They had a great last day, leaving childhood behind with a little bit of civil disobedience.

I have not spoken to my daughter to determine her own feelings about the rebellion.  Since she is a school administrator herself, she may have strong feelings about children pushing the boundaries of school policy.  I respect that point of view; however, I actually applaud my granddaughter for taking a little license and ending her girlhood with healthy, harmless rebellion. 

Had I been the principal, I would have lined the class up, took their picture, and posted it on my Facebook as "8th graders' last day of school." I would have worn goofy shoes and thrown a water balloon or two, and I do not believe that embracing harmless rebellion would have undermined my authority or reflected that the children were disrespectful. 

School uniforms have a place.  They do homogenize a group of children, reducing our society's fixation with clothes as a status symbol.  And these boys and girls have followed those rules for 9 years (no uniforms are required in Pre-K).  They respect the policies and abide by the rules. 

I also remember the utter exuberance of the last day of school.  There is no other experience that compares with that sense of utter and absolute freedom. And by having only a half day and that spent in recreational activities, the school joined the spirit of celebration.  Bending rules about uniforms could easily have been justified.

Tomorrow, when my girl wakes up, she will be a 9th grader, going to high school in the fall.  Soon after that, she will go to college somewhere, and then she will be all grown up. 

Life moves quickly -- too quickly when we measure it by the speed at which our children grow up and away.  Laughing and chasing each other with water balloons, wearing silly wigs and hats, sunglasses, and goofy shoes, the 8th graders were enjoying the few days of childhood left to them.  

It made me happy to drive up to utter chaos.  It made me laugh to see these fledglings chase each other, hug each other, and laugh without care.  It made me nostalgic for what was ending.  And it also made me proud that I have a granddaughter who knows the rules and abides by them and who, at the same time, can have fun with her girl and guy friends.

We should all be so lucky to have a "free dress" day, complete with water balloons, every once in a while. It hasn't been so long ago (last summer actually) that my assistant and I filled balloons with water and threw them from my second-floor office at some of my student employees down below.  It was a hot day, and the students were earning their summer pay as camp counselors.  The water balloons were unexpected, but the targeted students knew the affection that was lobbed along with the balloons.  And it was fun. 

Better infamous than anonymous.


3 comments:

  1. I agree completely. A little display of disobedience from an otherwise excellent student would put a smile on my face as an educational administrator. Dr. Porter I applaud your critique of your granddaughter's actions and I agree with your opinion of them completely.

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  2. I love that your granddaughter "acted up" her last day of 8th grade. That excitement, that achievement, the whole change of life that is about to come to her in high school -- all those reasons and more are justified for some silly shoes and water balloons.

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  3. I know. I am proud of her spunk and her ability to judge what is worth rebelling about and what is not. She's wise beyond her years, and I believe that she will be an amazing adult who makes huge contributions!
    Thanks Natalie and Shonell for your vote of confidence for her little rebellion.

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