From K to SATs

Kindergarten Orientation

My soon to be 5-year-old enters the big, brick building clutching my hand. Quiet and shy she hears her name being called by a complete stranger.

"It's okay to go with her," I said to my little girl. "She is going to play some games with you to show you what you will be learning in kindergarten."

My daughter began to cry and reluctantly went with this woman. She remained so upset that the school counselor allowed me to stand outside her office so my daughter can see her mom.

She began asking my daughter questions about the alphabet and gave her a pencil so she could write her name -- and I chuckled as I saw you still wrote the letter y backwards. She asks you to point to parts of your body and you were stumped when she asked, "Where is your shin?"

"Oh, darn, I never taught her that," I thought.

Her kindergarten orientation complete, we left the school and headed home. I was still in disbelief that my daughter was approaching her "official school years" although she had been in pre-school for a year— and for half that year, I had to unravel her fingers from the car seats, head rests and anything she could grasp onto in order for her not to leave and go to class. I remember calling the pre-school teachers many times after I left to make sure my daughter had settled down and they assured me she was sitting down working on her morning work at her desk. In fact, one time they walked me to her classroom door so I could take a sneak peak, and sure enough my little girl, who minutes before had attached herself to my body and had to be peeled off like a banana skin by her teachers was sitting and interacting with her little friends.

From kindergarten class through her 11th grade year — the big junior year with preparing for college — she has excelled and continues to try her utmost best as she has been rewarded with honors status and with the induction into the National Honor Society.

Today, my Sweet 16 young lady sat beside her mom in the car -- no car seat to be buckled in to, no tears strolling down her face, no clutching onto her mom's hand as a safety net -- on her way to take the SAT exam. 

Taking the SAT 

 I dropped her off at the big, brick building with her Number 2 pencils and calculator. I remind her that a test will not stop her from pursuing her dreams in life and that she will always be able to accomplish her desires.
"Good luck," I said.
"Thanks mom," she said with a bit of nervousness.
I watched my little girl walk through the doors — alone — without me —independent.
This time it was me with the tears strolling down my face -- not from sadness but from pride.