Sexual abuse education for kindergartners?

[angus]

Next week is Take Charge of Your Body week at my son's school.  I knew this day would come, but I didn't really expect it to come so soon.  They're doing a sex abuse/exploitation prevention program at my son's school next week.  Apparently this program has been taught for a number of years in Iowa.  According to the Iowa Family & Children's Council, 1 out of 4 girls and 1 out of 6 boys will be molested before the age of 18, so they're going to teach the kiddies what constitutes appropriate and inappropriate touching.

The email from the Principal says, in part:  "As your child's parent/guardian it is your right to have your child participate or not.  If you choose not to participate, please email or write your classroom teacher for notification.  Children not participating will be doing an alternative activity in the library or other available space."

See also:  http://www.fccouncil.net/

Anyway, I don't remember anything like this in public elementary schools back in the day.  I remember sex ed.  We got one semester of health in the 9th grade, and the sex ed portion was maybe two weeks of that semester.  Sex ed was controversial back then.  They did the banana/condom thing, and taught us about AIDS and pregnancy and such.  It was all fairly pro forma.  But that was in high school.  I was just wondering if you guys got the sex abuse training in elementary school.

(Wasn't sure where to put this, but it's likely to stir the pot, and it has to do with public school policy, so political debate seemed like the appropriate board.)

[angus]

I was just surprised that they're exposing the children to this sort of thing at such a young age nowadays.  Take charge of your body?  Hell, as it is, I have to tell him six times a day to stop playing with his penis.  I don't worry about Santa Clause because I've never let him sit upon Santa Claus' lap.  Dirty old pedophile. 

But I know that lots of parents don't constantly orbit their children the way my wife and I do, and they might find value in this sort of training.  Well, like I said, we'll probably let him go, but I need to ask my wife about all this first.

[angus]

Part of me thinks it may not always be ideal to expose a child to this topic, so leaving it to the parents is the best approach. But I have to admit that it may do a lot to stop abuse, maybe every child should hear something about it.

I guess that's sort of my feeling as well.  Yin-Yang.

We teach the boy not to get into the car with strangers.  And don't play with anyone else's penis.  And if Santa Claus so much as touches you, then kick the bastard hard in the nuts, poke him in the eyes, and run away as fast as you can.

He knows that it takes a man and a woman to make a baby.  Oh, we haven't gone into much detail, but he asks lots of questions, so he has a vague understanding of the idea of sexual reproduction among mammals.  I know there will come a time when he'll want to play hide the salami with some skanky bimbo from his school.  And at that time we'll discuss it in more detail.  He'll be made to understand that he should not take the log to the beaver unless it is thoroughly sheathed in latex.  I'll talk to him about pregnancy.  And about chlamydia and herpes and gonococcal conjunctivitis.

But, yeah, I guess I'm sort of an old-fashioned guy and I think that's my duty.  And my wife's.  But I also respect that the school administrators know that we live in a very litigious society, and maybe they think that it would be a remission of their duty if they neglected to inform the students (and their parents) about how to cope with humanity's more unseemly elements.

Also, it seems that our society is lately obsessed with sexual molestation in general.

[angus]

in a few years we'll be seeing the false accusations shoot through the roof.

I suspect you run the risk of having even more false accusations of child molestation

This thought occurred to me as well.  Sort of a 21st-century version of what the village of Salem went through in 1692. 

[angus]

So what did you and the wife decide?

The wife was in a foul mood last night when I got home, because my son apparently had a very bad day.  Also, I'd forgotten it was my son's piano lesson night.  So, I get home just before 5 thinking I'd have a relaxing drink.  But when I got there they were in a heated discussion about the importance of developing social skills.  Then she says, "so you want me to take him?"  And I said, "take him where?  Oh, sh**t, it's Tuesday."  And, recognizing a good chance to escape, I said, "I'll take him."  We got there about 15 minutes early, but it was okay because when we get there early we sit in the chairs in the drum studios and watch the drummers practicing.  Also, the piano teacher's 6:00 appointment cancelled, so when his 5:30 to 6 lesson was over, I requested that she play her violin and accompany me while I play "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" on the piano.  The choice was dictated by the fact that this is what sheet music was already lying out there, apparently from her 5:00 lesson, and by the fact that it's one of the few pieces I can actually remember how to play from my own misspent youth.  Mostly it was just killing time, but I'd been seeing that violin sitting there atop the upright piano for several months, and I knew she also taught violin, and I kind of wanted to hear her play it.  She also broke off one of the little horse hair strings and gave it to us so I could put it under a microscope and show Louis the burrs that stick out on the horse hairs and cause the vibrations that make the violin play.  Then, we drove over to the lab and I fired up the scanning electron microscope and got it focused and showed him the burrs on the horse hair, and while it was on I walked down to my office and took out my stash of Tito's Vodka and had a shot or two while he played with the focus.  All in all, we were able to stay out till about 8 o'clock.  By then we were tired and hungry.  So we went home and had dinner.  Then it was his bed time, and by then my wife was calm and placid and deeply involved in reading some ancient tale of love and betrayal.  Or maybe it was a recipe for roasted duck.  Who knows?  It was in Mandarin and I didn't ask.  I didn't want to spoil the peace.

So it didn't come up last night.  I'll broach the subject tonight if everyone is in a chipper mood.

[angus]

Okay, we had lunch together today.  It's not often that we do, and it gave us a chance to discuss the issue.  She hadn't read the email from his school yet.  When I told her about it she made a face and said, "What?  At this age?"  I could have predicted the response.  We discussed it some more and she thinks it's a good idea to talk to his teacher.  I also suggested that we talk to a neighbor who has two young children in his school and who is generally active in the parent organizations in order to get more information about the program.

It's always a bit embarrassing for me to have to apologize for my society, especially to someone who was socialized by an obtrusive, authoritarian regime and who came to this country not only for economic mobility, but to escape the obtrusiveness of an ancient society.  She didn't say so directly, but it was clear to me, that she has also observed that we are somewhat obsessed about such things.  It's uncanny that her reactions upon hearing the news were the same as mine.  "Won't this lead to a rash of false accusations?"  "Won't this put ideas in their heads about sexual experimentation?"  "Don't they get enough sex and violence on television already?"  "Why are Americans always busy minding everyone's business, except their own?"

In the end, she did note that the boy has no sense of fear and no sense of safety.  He has a gregarious disposition and loves to talk to strangers, no matter how often we tell him otherwise.  And that this sort of training might be beneficial to such a person.

Ah, well.  At least we're on the same frequency.  We haven't decided what we'll do yet.  I do intend to get more information from his teacher before deciding. 

[angus]

Never knew what it meant to 4th grade.

Apparently that's the sense of my son's teacher as well.  I went to talk to the school counselor about this, but he's in Japan for five weeks.  So the assistant counselor is doing it.  I'd never met her, so I decided to talk to his teacher.  The teacher said it's about an hour.  Someone from the state comes in and talks to them about not getting into cars with strangers.  That's good.  Then they take out a big life-size picture of a little boy and a little girl, wearing swimsuits.  And they point to where the penis is.  They say, "what's under the swimsuit here?"  That sort of thing.  They teach them words like penis and vagina.  My son calls his penis a penis.  He calls feces feces and he calls urine urine.  I'm a stickler about that.  But apparently lots of children use vulgar terms like poop and weenie, and they want to teach them correct terms.  I'm a big fan of proper terminology.  (See, for example, my remarks about the term homosexual elsewhere.)  But I also think that my wife and I, not the state of Iowa, should be charged with teaching him that a penis is a penis, etc. 

Anyway, she says she's not sure what the children who go to the library do, since the state requires her to attend the Take Charge of Your Body training, but that they probably read books and play games.  She says that every year a couple of students opt out, so in his class of 19, that's around ten percent.  She said it seemed awkward at first, but she's gotten used to it.  She did not seem convinced that it was a particularly efficient use of class time, and I don't think she was just patronizing me.  She said that they do interviews over the week and ask children whether they'd ever been advanced upon or molested.  And that every year a large majority of them report that they had.  The counselor--or, as will be the case this year, the assistant counselor, and the teacher says that this will probably complicate matters--has to sit through story after story about how my brother hugged me and I didn't like it, or my grandmother pats my butt and I don't like it, or my older sister squeezes my cheeks and I don't like it.  She also said that in all her years she does not know of a single legitimate molestation case that was reported by any of the school's students.  And to her knowledge no arrests, false or otherwise, have been made with respect to any of the school's students.  All of which is to confirm the many points made, including yours, which is that they aren't old enough to absorb this information in a meaningful way, and that the time would be better spent on reading, or writing, or learning that Italy is shaped like a boot kicking a pork chop.  She also agreed that this mandate, like so many mandates, was probably the result of some bureaucrat in Des Moines over-reacting to something he or she read or heard, but she wasn't sure specifically what started it.

She did say that the students have forgotten the whole thing by the following week and that no one ever seemed traumatized by it.  As creepy as it sounds, it may just amount to a minor waste of time and taxpayer money more than anything else, so we're leaning toward letting him go.  But my wife is slightly more reticent than I, so it's not settled.

[angus]

Based upon the alarming number of false reports generated from the State's interrogation of the kids, I'd say let him read in the library. 

That is truly alarming.

...but not surprising.  Think about it.  It's 1973.  I'm in Mrs. Hasson's kindergarten class.  There's this movie that comes on every night that my parents won't let me watch.  It's sort of like a soldier movie, but it comes on during the news.  Weird.  And when it comes on there are no words flashing, like you normally get in a movie.  It just cuts straight to a jungle, with loud sounds, like guns, and nervous reporters.  My parents never let us watch it though.  Sometimes I get glimpses of all these bodies lying around, but usually they quickly send us out of the room as soon as this movie comes on. 

Anyway, I ride a big yellow bus to Lincoln Elementary School.  Marla rides a different bus.  I like Marla.  She has black hair and dark eyes.  She's in Mrs. Hasson's class too.  We read books in Mrs. Hasson's class.  And we do some puzzles.  Learn the names of big geopolitical entities, like Texas and California and Germany and Africa.  It's fun, sometimes.

Now, imagine they have me, and Marla, and everybody else sit through a lecture where some old woman with a huge ass and a green polyester bell-bottom jumpsuit and high heels and plastic-framed glasses--hey, it's 1973, cut her some slack--anyway, she comes in and shows us a picture where there's a boy and a girl in swimsuits.  And this old lady starts asking what's under the swimsuit.  A penis, I say, nervously giggling.  Yes, a penis.  And what's under this girl's swimsuit.  (I know what's under there.  I have a sister.  A mama too.  But somehow they're different.  Sister is missing that little furry triangle, but I'm told she'll get that later.)  Anyway, she has a vagina.  Yeah, my parents teach us the proper words.  And I have a vague idea that Marla has a vagina too, although I've never thought about it in a meaningful way.  Till now, that is.  Anyway, this weird old lady starts asking us whether anyone has ever touched us in a way we didn't like.  Well, sure.  My grandma hugs me every time I see her.  And kisses me too.  And her moustache tickles my face.  And her breath stinks so badly.  But Mama says not to say anything.  Just give your grandma a kiss and be nice.  Now, I have a chance to talk about how grandma rubs her nasty mustache on me.  And grabs my butt.  Oh, how she stinks.  Yeah, but she gives us ice cream and candy.  Oh, you mean she gives you ice cream and candy for letting her touch your butt and kiss you?  Er, mm, well, sure I guess so.  I see...

Yeah, this all seems so terribly creepy to me.  Don't get me wrong.  I have absolutely no objection to teaching my son to watch out for strangers.  And I certainly don't object to talking to him about rubbers and pregnancy and warts and pimples and masturbation and the bodily fluids which can carry organisms that can end your life.  And I certainly do want him to understand that it takes a male and a female to sexually reproduce.  We already talk about these things in a vague way, a way that is age-appropriate.  But I think I should be the one to do that, not some stranger whose presence is mandated by a bureaucrat in Des Moines.

[angus]

if a parent is actually abusing their child, obviously they'll opt out.

This seems likely.

It's not even sex ed, it's about sexual abuse.

This is accurate.

Those two observations further support the case that this program is a waste of taxpayer money and valuable class time.  First, those most likely to need the counseling are the least likely to receive it, for the logistical reasons you mention.  Second, it's not even the sort of useful how-to-put-a-condom-on-a-banana or how to avoid STD and pregnancy that would be useful.  The actual sex-ed, which I got in the 9th grade, might be useful for my son, though not in kindergarten.  (Admittedly, I didn't actually get properly laid till the 10th grade, and even with all the pro-social messages on television, even with all the AIDS scare that existed in the mid-80s, and even with all the instruction in school, I didn't use a rubber.  So, on some level I question even the usefulness of that.  But that's another issue, and it wasn't my goal to go into that issue in this thread.)

I know most parents go over it with their children, but some don't,

Just as some parents allow their children to eat shellfish, some don't.  some parents allow their children to watch television, some don't.  All are prerogatives of the parents, or at least that's my read of how the society functions.  I have never told my son that babies come from storks or anything silly like that.  I've talked to him about how animals evolve and how they go extinct, insomuch as I understand it, and at a level that he can understand it.  And I have tried to explain, more or less, sexual reproduction using flowers as tangible examples, accessible to someone his age, and even taking him into the field and showing him how the hapless bees frantically hump the clever orchids that they think are female bees, thereby doing most of the hard work.  He knows Mama and Daddy did something physical to make him, and he understands that mama has an egg and daddy has a seed.  (We prefer the terms egg and seed at this level.)  But the specifics can wait a few years. 

napping?

As an aside, it was to our great relief that we learned that neither the state of Iowa nor Cedar Falls Public Schools requires naps in kindergarten.  We fretted over that, since my son hates naps.  He started at a Montessori system preschool at the age of 3, and they required naps, and it was always traumatic for him.  We were happy to learn that his public kindergarten doesn't do that.

I've never done it, or maybe I don't remember.

Neither have I.  Then again, I was never an altar boy, so I really didn't need the training. 

[angus]

Well, tomorrow's the day.  Most of my neighbors either didn't read the email ("Take charge of your body?  Um, is that like the nutrition or health unit thingy they're doing?"), or they did read it and they think it's odd that they're exposing the children to this sort of thing.  But they're pretty resigned to the fact that it'll happen so they may as well participate and get used to it.

Today is bring your favorite stuffed animal to school day.  Apparently in art class they're going to use watercolors to paint portraits of them.  My son brought Curious George.  He always sleeps with Curious George and carries him around in the morning.  Sometimes he even wants to set a place for Curious George at the table.  This morning at breakfast he tried to feed him one of his fish sticks and got tartar sauce on him, which I had to clean up so he could take him to school.  That really tested my patience.

I think tomorrow morning we'll leave George upstairs and I'll talk to him over breakfast.  Maybe I'll make sausages.  He'll probably never think about sausages the same way again, so it'll be good to have that tomorrow.  I'll tell him that a visitor is coming and he must be on his best behavior and that she's going to talk about not taking rides with strangers, and some other information about how sometimes mean people try to engage in inappropriate behavior with children, but that Mama and Daddy won't let that happen, so don't worry too much about it.  Just sit quietly and listen and if you have any questions ask us when you get home from school. 

Or, I may keep him home.  Call them and tell them he's a bit under the weather.  I have no meetings tomorrow and it's forecast to be a nice day.  High 60s.  We could go on a bicycle ride.  It's not a library day or a guidance day for them, and the stuff they're doing in math and reading is pretty basic.  He stays ahead of it. 

Just haven't decided yet.

[angus]

Not too bad this morning.  I decided to play along.  I thought I'd feel like a farmer in Lower Saxony in 1934, sending my boy off to school, but knowing what they're teaching him doesn't seem quite right.  That the whole hype and hysteria gripping the nation doesn't seem quite right.  Yet, I want to be a good nationalist and a good father, and the state has been fixing the roads and providing good jobs, so maybe I should just do what they say I should do.

But really, it wasn't so bad.  We went with Little Smokies, boiled.  And I gave him some KC-style barbeque sauce for dipping them.  And a couple of sesame-seed breadsticks.  Breakfast of champions.

Over breakfast I tried to convey the importance of being quiet while the visitor speaks.  She'll talk to them about strangers.  And how some of them are mean and bad.  And that we should never take rides with strangers.  According to his teacher, they will start with that.  But also they'll show you a picture of a boy and a girl outfitted in swimwear, and you'll be asked to think about what's under the swimwear.  Of course, you know there's a penis under there.  And the boy giggled and said, "and a scrotum.  Don't forget about the scrotum."  And it pretty much went downhill from there.  He was giggling and not taking it seriously, which will very probably be the case in his class today.  So I just said, sternly, "The bottom line is that you don't touch anyone else's penis and you don't let anyone touch yours!  Are we clear?"  And he said he was, and said he'd try to be still and quiet when the visitor speaks.  

Then we rode our bicycles to his school.  It's only about three blocks away, and my office is only about another mile beyond that.  And it's such a nice day.  I think I might just take off at noon and get out and enjoy the weather.  69 degrees, they're predicting.  We may even get to turn the heater off this week.  Finally.  

Today is early day.  2:15.  I'll be there to pick him up and we'll ride home together, and I'll sing "This old man, he played three, he played knick knack on my knee" and I'll gauge his reaction.  If he says, "He did what?!  Well, somebody needs to call the police" then I'll start to worry.

[angus]

Naps are strange.  In public kindergarten, we had to take naps.  Maybe it's changed, or maybe Iowa kindergartens never did naps.  I know I never liked them either.  

With my son, it was particularly rough.  My wife took off work once she recognized that she was pregnant.  She's a chemist and didn't want to be around solvents or anything.  Actually, she really went whole-hog in pre-natal and post-natal care.  Reading books and modifying her diet and such.  Anyway, we both agreed that it was a good idea for her not to go to work till he was fully toilet-trained and fully weaned.  So he was a spoiled titty-baby till he was three.  I think it was the right thing.  He's healthy and tall.  Tallest, by far, in his class, even though I'm only about 176 centimeters, which is average for an American.  (Short for an Iowa person.)  Good immune system, etc.  But the problem was that he had no particular schedule.  The two of them would eat whenever they were hungry, sleep whenever they were tired, and drink whenever they were thirsty.  There was no such thing as "bedtime."  

We worked very hard to toilet train him, and by the time he was 2 he was pissing like a big boy.  In the toilet.  And wiping his own ass.  He wore his last diaper at about 2 years and six months, and only then because we were taking a long cross-country drive and didn't want to chance it.  So she started looking for work and starting to wean him a bit.  At 2 years, 8 months, she started her current job and he started preschool.  For that first year it was so very traumatic.  Getting him to bed by 9, and getting him up at 8, and getting him to eat, was so difficult.  He'd take a bite, then want to play, not quite understanding that the next meal time may not come for hours.  And, to make matters worse, this particular Montessori school (they're all different, by the way), had an after-lunch nap policy.  

I'm no fan of the Maria Montessori philosophy, by the way.  Never do for the child what the child can do for himself.  I regard it as systematized neglect.  We chose that particular daycare not because it was a Montessori school, but in spite of the fact that it was a Montessori school.  And not because of the price.  It was extremely expensive.  We chose it because it seemed to have good facilities, and focused on education as well as day care.  But he was miserable there.  After the end of the year, when the contract expired, we were happy to take him out.  And he spent summer at home with his Mama.  the following year we put him in an AEA267 facility called Valley Park.  A big state-subsidized pre-school/daycare, with the white trash and the free lunch crowd.  He was much happier there.  They also had a nap policy, but didn't really enforce it.  They let him read during that time, so long as he stayed quiet.  We did that for two years.  Finally, the next year, when he was 5, he started kindergarten.  We'd bought a house in a neighborhood specifically chosen for the local public school, which is a good one.  And it was a great relief to learn that this school doesn't require naps.  After lunch, they go outside.  Snow or shine.  That was strange too, but we bought him snowpants and big boots.  It worked out well.

[angus]

Rough day.  There was some fighting involved.  And a visit to the principal's office.  Obviously we had more important things to talk about than the Take Charge of Your Body program.

Well, by the time we got around to discussing it, I think we were all tired.  Apparently, there was a very old woman named Mrs. Houston.  Or Mrs. Huston.  She talked about the pictures.  From what I could tell, they learned about the Penis, the Vagina, the Breasts, and the Butt Ox.  Daddy, she calls it the Butt Ox.  Lots of laughing and giggling.  Anyway, they watched a video about a cat who had a vary nice, long tail.  It had a lightening flash on it.  But all the other animals, including the boodleheimer and the glockenwart and the Lazypipple wanted to touch it.  Eventually, the cat learned to say, in his "important voice," that he did not like having his tail touched.  No!  Please don't touch my tail anymore, Boodleheimer!  I don't like it when you touch my tail.  It's my private part and I don't want you touching it!

They also learned the importance of reporting.  Reporting stuff to grown-ups.  At the end of it all, they each went out into the hall, individually, and gave one example of reporting.  My son was very proud of himself.  He said that his example was that his sister was playing with sharp scissors.  (?!) 

Now, I'm starting to figure this thing out.  Surely all those elementary ed majors know at least as much about elementary ed as I do.  I have no training, after all, and I figured out that they'd not take it seriously, or get the message.  Now, I understand that they know this.  They're just taking a buckshot approach to intrusion, it seems to me.  They spend some tax dollars.  Maybe no much.  Maybe a little.  They send this old woman around to the schools and have her give her schpiel and show a video of a cat with a long tail, and she talks about the importance of reporting.  Then they ask the kiddies to give one example of reporting something.  And each child walks out into the hall, individually, and reports some incidence of inappropriate behavior.  My son, being somewhat sheltered, and having a good sense of humor and an active imagination, and who longs for a sibling, says something like "my sister plays with sharp scissors."  He's probably considered a miss.  Most of them are misses, I'd imagine.  But once in a while they probably get a hit.  Someone says, "my uncle Ted likes to play neptune.  Neptune is the god of the sea, and he has a big trident that he uses to probe the deep ocean.  It hurts, but he says that I should never tell anyone.  But you said to report it if someone touches my Butt Ox."

So it's like that.  This is what we're reduced to, as a society.  The Iowa state legislature is basically a toned-down, but more authoritative, version of the guys who run MSNBC.  And they're as sadistic as that weirdo who entraps people on that weekend show.  I don't know who's worse, that sadistic bastard who loves to entrap people, or the nasty pederasts he arrests. 

It's a sick, sad world.  Hopefully, my son was too busy fighting and being sent to the principal's office to have any memory of all this sickness.  I gather that he was, and that no harm was done.

[angus]

So why was the boy brawling?

Ah, it was after lunch, and they get to hang out in the gym and roughhouse.  He was on this toy.  sort of an inverted semicircle with seats, and you use it like a see-saw, and he was in the middle, rocking back and forth.  As nearly as I could tell a big boy (2nd grade) came and flipped it on one end and he fell backward, hitting his head.  Apparently he started crying.  Then he starts walking to the teacher, and on his way to the teacher he saw the boy who did it and belted him, repeatedly.  He must have looked like a madman, crying and swinging his fists.  I guess the teacher saw that.  Later, the principal found the other boy.  He just talked to them a long time.  They both had to forego their afternoon recess times and stay in and write something.  That was pretty much the end of it.  But it took me well over an hour to get that story out of him.  Very frustrating.

We had a TV-free night.  No videos, no DVDs, no televesion, etc.  I made him practice his piano for an hour and read a book.  I told him if he doesn't have a good day today there will be no TV tonight either.  This morning he seemed like he was in a good mood as he ate his frozen, breaded chicken breast tenders, heated for two minutes in the microwave.  A strawberry cupcake rounded out the breakfast.  I talked to him briefly about détente.  Hopefully he's not in a protracted war of attrition with this other boy now.  We'll see.  

We bicycled again.  Still cool in the morning, but sunny.  Good day for grilled meat.

[angus]

weren't you proud he stuck up for himself?  

This must go unspoken.  You understand.  

[angus]

I got basic sex ed in 4th and a somewhat more advanced version in 9th.  The 4th grade version was "Sperm travel from the testes through the vas deferens out the penis into the vagina, where one lucky sperm will find an egg released from the ovary in the fallopian tube, fertilize it, and it will catch on uterine lining and develop for 9 months.  That's sex, kids."

ooh, baby.  you get me so moist when you talk like that.


Anyway, there are apparently no lingering side-effects.  Either from the little contretemps or the Take Charge of Your Body program.  I took off early and did some cycling, and showed up at 3:35 at his teacher's door, and she said he had a good day.  So I let him grill some pork chops with me.  And watch Curious George. 

I'm still gonna make him read a book and practice his music. 

My wife rented "An Inconvenient Truth" and she's planning on having me sit through it with her.  I expect her to call me downstairs any minute.  I guess I won't make him sit through it.  I wouldn't do that to the boy even if he was in trouble.

[angus]

Your wife must be a great woman. There is nothing like torturing your husband! we women pride ourself on that.

Ha!  Well, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.  It's Al Gore's mug, and his monotone, undertaker's voice narrating, but that's the worst of it.  It was actually pretty interesting.  At least the nineteen minutes I watched.  Luckily, I realized that something needed desperately to be done around the house, and politely excused myself. 

[angus]

Wow, I'm a teacher.

Good for you.  I actually don't blame the teachers in this case, or the local administrators for that matter.  This was mandated by the legislature.  We don't have any general complaints about the school, just this policy.

As for the teacher, we like her very much.  She's old.  I like that in a kindergarten teacher.  And patient.  And very accommodating.  She even brought his lunch box to our house one day when he forgot it at school.  I've met with my son's teacher on a number of occasions, and she always makes time to see me and answer all my questions. 

[angus]

do you have any words you always misspell?  

You referring to my spelling it as kindergartners in the thread title?

It is my instinct to spell it kindergartener.  Like, kindergarten, but with the usual German suffix -er, since kinder and garten are both German words.  But it seemed odd, so I looked it up at Merriam-Webster online.  Apparently kindergartner (without the E between the T and the N) is the preferred spelling in the U.S., and it first occurred in 1881, and gradually replaced kindergartener, although the latter is acceptable as well, according to some other dictionaries.  

My son's school district also spells it as kindergartners.  So I'll stick with that.

[angus]

The only argument we ever got into with his school was about a tomato.  They were going over "fruits and vegetables" one day, Now, he normally gets perfect scores in all the academic stuff, and is by far the best reader in his class.  His numeracy is the best as well.  We pressure him hard in that way, and I intend for his math, reading, geography, and science scores to remain at the top of the class.  (His conduct is often unsatisfactory, I'll admit, and his manners and social skills need some work, but the academic stuff is going swimmingly.)

Anyway, so he had been taught that a tomato, like a jalapeño and an apple and a grape, is a fruit.  It is the swollen ovary of an angiosperm, or flowering plant.  As for vegetables, well we hadn't really used that word much about the house, since it's a redundant and unnecessary term.  Anything that gets called a "vegetable" can be classified as either a fruit,a shoot,or a root.  And, more generally, the term "vegetable" can be applied to any part of any plant, especially to distinguish plants from either animals or minerals.  Still, I'm aware that the confusing phrase "fruits and vegetables" exists in nutritional contexts.  So one day he gets a problem wrong.  Apparently, they had been instructed to put a circle around the fruits and an X on the "vegetables."  Of course he put a circle around the tomato.  And he got the question wrong.  At the end of the week, when his papers came home, I noticed that he had a 128 out of 129 grade for the week.  What's this?  This has never happened before!  "How the hell did you get a 128 out of 129?" I demanded, preparing to go into a diatribe about the importance of good grades. He showed me his paper and proceeded to explain the problem.  So we discussed it a bit and I told him I'd pay his teacher a little visit on Monday.

On Monday I showed up at her room about 20 minutes before class started to find out what the problem was.  I explained that my son was well aware of the definition of a fruit.  And that a tomato is, by definition, a fruit.  She then began to give me this long story about how scientific terminology sometimes contradicts everyday use and refers me to a U.S. Supreme Court case, Nix v. Hedden, 149 U.S. 304 (1893), in which it was decided that, for the purposes of customs regulations, a tomato is classified as a "vegetable."  Apparently in that decision the court recognized that a tomato was, by definition, a fruit, but that with respect to New York local tax laws, it would not be taxed at the lower "fruit" rate but rather at the higher "vegetable" rate.  Bollocks!  The supreme court often makes poor decisions, I explained.  I asked her, "Do you think Plessy v. Ferguson--a decision rendered about the same time as Nix v. Hedden, and therefore by the same court--was a sound decision?  A future supreme court would find it to be a poor decision.  What's the meaning of all this?"  She agreed that the supreme court often made decisions with which she disagrees but that it wasn't really germane to our discussion.  In the end, she explained that she has certain materials that come, state-mandated, and she must teach them.  It's a contractual obligation.  Take it up with your legislator.

Okay, I'll admit that I haven't followed that one up with my state legislator.  But I did explain to the boy all about fruits and flowering plants and such.  And, exploited the teaching moment.  There will be other occasions when the official line of the school differs from my interpretation, or from his mother's.  Actually, I knew that would happen, but I'd imagined that it would be in a history or social studies class.  Anyway, I took the time to suggest that it was important to remember what you're taught and be able to repeat it for the purposes of exams.  Your own understanding of the universe need not be diminished by the school, and in fact it is generally enhanced, but when it happens that something is falsely stated, or stated with an interpretation that differs from your own, you must decide whether it is appropriate to do battle.  In this case, I think it is a minor point, an it would be better to let the teacher follow Nix v. Hedden and continue making the highest grades in the class. If you pick this battle, I'll support you.  100%.  But choose your battles wisely.   A little controversy is good for the brain, but too much and you'll get a bad reputation among the faculty in your school.  In any case, if your teachers ever tell you anything that contradicts something your parents have said--and they will, from time to time!--then discuss these matters with your parents before disrupting class over it.