The Value of Being a Kindergarten Delinquent

Today I realized that I remember the very moment when I first broke the rules.

I was five years old and was lined up just inside the front doors of my elementary school waiting for my teacher to pick us up. It was a brisk Minnesota morning and we were undoubtedly full of spunky kindergarten energy. Somehow, another child's mitten ended up in my possession. Some boy's; I don't remember who. But I do remember feeling a jolt of playfulness and then inexplicably throwing the glove when the boy reached out to grab it from me. And of course, my teacher arrived at that very moment and saw the whole thing. I don't remember what she said to scold me, but I do remember feeling my cheeks flush and carrying around a heavy feeling of guilt throughout the day.

Yet I remember almost nothing else about kindergarten besides the girl who ate paste, an awesome sandbox, some singing, and buying special kindergarten paper from the school store. My most vivid memory from this time is the great mitten-throwing incident of 1985. And I worked hard throughout the rest of my schooling to never do something so abhorrent ever again.

I've thought a lot about that moment.

On Monday, I'll send my first child to kindergarten, and this scenario from my past now seems weirdly important. I can't help thinking how my son would have handled this situation. Unlike the self-controlled 5-year-old version of his mama, his body betrays his best intentions all the time. He tries to sit still and make "good choices," but it's genuinely hard for him. He's so often redirected and reminded to get in line, that it really doesn't bother him anymore. Or so I assume.

My fear is that he'd throw that damned mitten. Frequently.

And what happens to serial mitten-throwers?

The fears run through my mind...

• Do they get labeled as troublemakers?
• Do they drive their teachers nuts?
• Do they eventually get so sick of being corrected that they disengage and start disliking school and spiral out of control?

But I'm getting a bit wiser. So these hopes run through my mind too...

• Do they develop a thick skin?
• Do they get comfortable with making mistakes early and often?
• Are they better-equipped to handle life when things are less-than-perfect?

The fact is, I wish I'd have been "caught in the act" more often when I was young. I wish I'd have made more mistakes out loud and proud. Maybe it would be easier for me to make them now. And that's a freaking gift. So I need to check myself so I don't get carried away with the worrying about my guy. He'll find his way in this new world of line-walking and desk-sitting, and his way won't be the same as mine. And though it may be challenging in the short-term, those struggles just may serve him well in the long-run.