I never had much trouble in school. I wasn’t at the top of my class, but I did pretty well without having to put in a lot of effort. I never imagined that my children might have learning difficulties. I didn’t think they’d be gifted, but I expected them to do about average, like most children.
Unfortunately, I was wrong. The reality turned out to be different.
Last year, when my youngest started first grade, I quickly realized that it was hard for her—really hard. Homework time was a struggle. I felt like my efforts were falling on deaf ears. I was aware of her struggles, but when the 1ster The report card confirmed it all. My daughter's grades were indeed just below the passing grade.
After that, my little girl was evaluated by the school psychologist. The result: attention deficit! In her case, the next step was medication. There was an adjustment period, but we saw a difference, and she was much more attentive in class afterward. She’s made progress, but her skills are still far from sufficient. She likely has other learning difficulties that will need to be further evaluated. She has two sisters with dyslexia, and there’s a good chance she has it too.
During our last meeting at school, we had to decide what to do next for her: what are we going to do next year? We’d already discussed the topic a few months earlier, and I knew what was likely to happen, but I was hoping for a miracle.
It was a joint decision. A decision that my head knew I had to make, but that my heart didn't want to: my daughter will have to repeat first grade.
People keep telling me that this is what’s best for her, but I find it hard to believe that this failure could be a positive thing for my daughter. Then I asked myself: How am I going to break the news to her? When is the right time? What words should I use? How can I help her see the positive side of all this?
Her teacher had given me a few ideas. She had suggested that I not use the words “repeat the grade” or “start over,” but rather tell her that she’s going to continue her first year. She hasn't finished learning everything she needs to know, and she's going to continue to do it this year. It's true that I see this way of putting it as more positive, but other kids his age wouldn't say it that way…
I finally decided to take some mother-daughter time to tell her. We left the house together to go for a smoothie. I don't really remember the exact words I used, but tears started to flow—both mine and hers. She seemed to understand, but the saddest part was that she immediately became afraid of being teased by the other children. She imagined her classmates laughing at her when they saw that she wasn't in 2nd gradee year like them. It broke my heart in two.
Unfortunately, I can’t promise her that no one will laugh at her, and I’m a little worried about the start of the school year this year. As a mom, this is hard for me, because I would have so much rather she hadn’t had to go through this setback.
What happens next won’t be without tears, but I wish her every success in school this year so that she can finally continue to page 2e year.