The Surrogate Mom

I am a teacher. I took the classes to teach the curriculum, earned a nearly perfect GPA and worked myself to the bones while in grad school to ensure that once I started teaching, I would be the best teacher I could be. Unfortunately, as with most parts of life, there is nothing that any professor can teach that teaches us the skill that we all, as teachers, have to learn: how to be the surrogate mom while their actual parents are not with them.

Some children who have happy homes don't really need me to be a mom, but this year I have several students whose needs surpass the academic. They need love. They need attention. Of course, all children need these things, and I give them to each everyday, but for some, the need is much greater. These needs manifest themselves in several ways.

Some children need attention, and when they do, they act out by either being the class clown, and will do anything for a laugh, or they withdraw from the class and become little islands with tough shells. In either case, the message is clear: I need your attention. I not only need your attention; I crave it.

Since the beginning of the year I have been dealing with a student who has seemingly learned how to be helpless. He has lacked the confidence to proceed in the simplest of tasks without my validation. In the beginning, to even write an answer to a question, he asked, "So I write my first word here on this line?" to which I respond, "Yes, that's right," or "Do you think that's what you should do," in which he responds, "Yes." He has come a long way since then, and now doesn't seek out my approval with everything he does. But there is one obstacle we have yet to overcome: homework.

Yesterday I spent the entire day helping kids get organized, which included looking for homework. I firmly believe that you can tell the state of a child's mind by looking at their desks (or for parents, their rooms). A desk that is tidy and neat belongs to a child who is focused and knows what's going on in class. They are in control of their own little world. The desk of a distracted child is messy, disorganized with bits of broken erasers and a various hodgepodge of all things they own. This is a reflection of their thoughts and I know they are lost inside their minds. So I am teaching them to organize their belongings, which, in the long run, will be a saving grace for them. The student I mentioned above is one student I helped.

(As an aside, I think it's funny when we as adults tell our kids to clean their rooms/desks, but don't show them how to do it. We expect them to, but if they've never been shown how, it's a pointless effort on our part. So, as the teacher I do what my mom did for me when I was a kid, I show them how to take a massive pile of stuff, sort it into piles, and then put it away according to that pile. I clearly remember my mom teaching me this when I was seven years old. So now I teach my students the same thing. )

Earlier in the day I found that he had not done his homework for two weeks. I make weekly homework packets for them to do so that they don't have loose papers all over the place. This really helps kids with organization problems. But Ted did not do or turn anything in. I called him over to my desk to ask why he wasn't doing his homework, emphasizing that he needs to try to do things on his own. He broke down in tears and told me that he's home alone on most days until about 7 or 8 at night because his mom is at work. Her job is low-paying, and I think she just can't afford child care for him. So, he goes home, is by himself, doesn't have any interactions with adults or friends and plays games. I can only imagine how lonely this must feel, and it breaks my heart. In fact, I'm fairly certain that school is where he gets personal attention, and he gets it by me fretting over him, which I think is what he wants.

So Ted and I developed a plan where he would check with me about his homework each day before he goes home, and each morning I will check to see that he has done his homework. Essentially, I will be doing his mom's job for her. I know this is what he needs, but I really wish he had more support at home.

I am also going to invite him to have personal time with me during lunch. It will either be just eating lunch, or playing a game with him, which I think he would really enjoy. I don't mind doing this for him, but I really wish he didn't tell me that his best days with his family are holidays, because that's when he gets to play with his family. In the meantime, school is his family, and I am the surrogate mom.