We chose kung fu for several reasons. First, Bud is obsessed with the lion dances at Chinese New Year and this would be his path to learning that. Secondly, kung fu, as they repeat in class, teaches discipline, unity, respect, and humility. And it's great exercise, both strengthening bodies and their sense of self. Sure, other martial arts would do that, but, lastly, this one is Chinese (karate is Japanese; tae kwon do is Korean). And that's very important to me as I try to foster their identity as half-Chinese here in very white Connecticut. The teacher is a Chinese master, counts to them in Chinese, has them bow and thank both him and us, their parents, in Chinese at the end. He even calls them by their Chinese names. So, the class serves many purposes.
In addition to the pure fun of it. They love it. The teacher is so wonderful with the little ones, his aim being to foster their love of kung fu at this age instead of focusing on actual skills. Which is working perfectly with Bud and Sis, who practice their forms everyday and love to show people what they've learned. I love the class, too, but the practice of it makes me a little anxious. Not the actual, physical practice, but the practice of taking them to class and standing by while they attend. It brings out all the worst stress and even competition in me as a parent, even though sports or physical competition has never really been personally important to me. And so I've been mulling it over.
See, we parents all gather at the wall and watch. What is with that? Why must I watch? I'm not the teacher; I'm not the student. And I see my role as parent as enthusiastic but relatively objective supporter. I don't want to be the mom calling from the wall to encourage or exhort her daughter or the mom who watches because she gives out rewards if the girl does well, by which she means performs well not behaves well. What is with that? I want the kids' relationship to be with the teacher directly, not through me. If they don't do something right, I'm not the one who should or even can tell them differently. If they misbehave, let the teacher correct them--I know it will go further and mean more. I want to be there with the water bottle and a hug afterwards, saying "What did you like about class today?" Not "I saw that you can't kick" or "You shouldn't stare out the window." No treats for you. Which I just don't think is my job in this instance.
Actually, I don't think it's my job in school either, though I realize that hands-off parenting is not the thing now. But I grew up with no one checking my homework, or even checking if I did my homework (or commenting, for that matter, on my abilities in softball or swim team, thank heavens). Call it low- or no-pressure parenting. Basically, as I recall it, my parents got my report card, rarely said more than good job, and we just moved on. My schooling was my job. Not theirs. Of course, as Mama reminds me, they could do that because I did my job. Well. But I'm willing to try this approach (or a variation, knowing that when my kindergarteners bring home homework in 2 months--something I didn't have until around 5th grade! The world has changed; parents helicopter now more than ever. And it seems that the system almost requires us to. Vicious, codependent circle--I'll need to help some. Especially as we all get used to the way school works. I'm talking fostering independence not demonstrating indifference. Helping hands, not hands on or hands off.) at least until it starts to fail. Am I crazy, all you teachers out there? Does it makes sense? Remember, I'm a newbie at this, mostly untested, flying by the seat of my skirt. And I'd be willing to change if I were doomed to failure. But, really, if I am in charge all the time, check up on them always, fix it for them all the time, how do they learn to do it themselves? Doesn't some amount of mistakes and failure have to occur? (Of course, that is barring real, repeated, consistent or persistent problems. I'm talking run of the mill type stuff here). If not, they'll be in college with my having to call the professors and check if they've written their papers! Not acceptable.
But it's a trap I must be wary of because the temptation (even the expectation) to play that role is so strong, both in our society (think all those angry sideline-coaching parents) and in me. I actually do feel it very keenly, say, when they do an inside instead of an outside kick, or punch left instead of right, or do get distracted and watch the red belts from their lower white belts line. Not that I'm embarrassed or feel somehow that it reflects poorly on me or even because I'm vested in their being good at kung fu, but because I want to help, to fix it, smooth things for them; you know, the helicopter part. And if I feel that in sports, you can bet I'm going to feel it in academics (and maybe even for those other reasons). I don't want to be that mom who does that to her kids. I want to be the neutral state, the safe harbor, that they can come to no matter what. Who will provide guidance, support, encouragement, but not create fear, anxiety, disappointment, or laziness, dependence, entitlement.
So it's good that we're all practicing with kung fu this summer.
And the actual lessons are good too.
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