Tradeoffs

Kind people, of whom there are many at this school, keep asking me how my daughter is "settling in." It's a curious turn of phrase, that, suggesting that any dislike she may have of school will be temporary. Indeed, I've heard some people speak of children who take years to "settle in" to school. As adults, would we stick with a new job if it took us years to settle in?

Until yesterday I focused on the positives, expressing my pleasure and gratitude at the efforts everyone has made to be friendly to my daughter. The children include her in their games (in fact they seem to be fighting over who will take possession of her), the teachers explain patiently why one should leave a margin round an essay, the dinner staff show understanding in the face of her on-again, off-again vegetarianism.

But since The Kid seems quite constant in maintaining that she will leave after this term, it seems only fair to drop a few hints that school isn't entirely to her liking. After all the kindness everyone has shown us, it would be rude to drop a bombshell in December with the news that she is leaving, thanks very much, goodbye. So yesterday, when asked by another mum how she's settling in, I said that there were things she liked about school, but that she and I were both astonished at how completely her free time had disappeared since she began school. I gave examples of the hobbies she used to do, and the many new pastimes she wanted to try, all of which had been shelved indefinitely. I spoke of friendships on hold and library books returned unread, of the sewing machine gathering dust and the roller skates shoved to the back of a cupboard. And she said, lightly, "Well, I suppose there are always tradeoffs in life."

This took me aback, and I walked on in silence. I'd had a few good conversations with this mum, who seemed a very sensible person. Was I being overly dramatic? Did it really matter that my daughter had had to give up a few things she liked to do? She did have some fun at school, and she was learning some things. Was I being too precious here? Hmm. A tradeoff.

But no. She wasn't right. Suddenly I felt sure of that. The almost complete loss of a growing child's free time is not just a "tradeoff." It's more like losing a limb. Living in a society of amputees may make it seem inevitable and acceptable, but it just isn't.

I tried to find the words to express the magnitude of the change, and looked up at her. But she was already throwing me a quick goodbye over her shoulder as she turned off toward her house. Like her young daughter, she is a busy person.