I don't really do public displays of anger. Actually I don't really do public displays of anything, I'm your original wallflower, fading into the background with practised ease.
But not when someone I'm paying (in the words of their mission statement) to "help children build confidence" reduces my five year old son to a distraught weeping heap on the floor. Ho no. Then the red mist turns up and I become Embarrassingly Angry Mum. The one you like to watch out of the corner of your eye whilst pretending to have no interest at all and being secretly relieved that it's her and not you.
For the last few months Alex has been attending a class loosely based on the principles of karate. I love the ideals behind the classes and I think with the right teacher, it could have been great. Unfortunately from the very beginning I've less than impressed with his teacher - let's call her Susan*. Still, as Alex has embraced it with typical Alex enthusiasm we rolled with it and dutifully turned up each week. In hindsight, it's a big ask of a 5 year old to attend a 45 minute class after a full day of school and expect him to concentrate all the way through. But let me just say here that whilst the attention of the other boys his age wavers from the start, Alex begins by giving it his all. It's usually only as the lesson progresses that he loses interest and finds it difficult to concentrate. Up until recently there have also been older boys in the class who find it much easier to grasp what is required and have the requisite attention span, which unfortunately only highlights the apparent failings of the younger boys.
Each week, the "best" boy in the class is given the dubious honour of Pixie* of the Week. Needless to say, Alex hasn't often received this award, something he shrugs off with a vow to try harder next week.
Last week's session began as they always do. Alex threw himself into it until he got too hot and tired to continue. At this point, he explained to Susan that he was tired and he was hot and he was sweaty. Did she offer any useful solution, like taking a breather or having a drink from his water bottle? Did she heck. She ignored him as she usually does when presented with a situation that comes right out of the Too Hard basket. Naturally at this point Alex lost the will to live and did not take part and did not have fun and retreated into Alex World. And in Alex's defence, he's only five years old, had just done a full day at school on a hot summer's day and he tried to explain to her how he was feeling before his behaviour deteriorated.
So far situation normal. But at presentation time, in front of all the parents, it all went hideously wrong. Susan began by saying she was going to do something slightly different this week. "This week", said Susan, "I'm going to begin by telling you who's NOT getting the Pixie Cup."
We waited ... and the boys fidgeted.
Alex!" said Susan. "You did really well at the beginning..."
Alex misheard. He thought he WAS getting the Pixie Cup and excitedly got up to collect it at which point my heart sank.
"Oh no Alex!" said Susan. "You're not getting it - you lost it. You didn't pay attention, you didn't do as you were told and you're not going to get it now after all. I'm going to give it to Bob* instead."
Alex understandably burst into tears but instead of quitting while she was ahead Susan then bumbled on a bit longer trying to get Alex to understand exactly where he'd gone wrong and lost the bloody cup.
At this point Alex broke down completely in a weeping heap of hot, sweaty, exhausted and embarrassed five year old boy.
What in the name of all that's good and holy was she trying to achieve by this?! If she expected Alex to nod in agreement and promise to do his best next week, she will have been sorely disappointed. As much as I don't do public displays of very much, nor does my son. A public dressing down in front of his peers and their parents, addressed to him alone, was pretty much Alex's worst nightmare.
That's when the red mist turned up. I swept my weeping son into my arms, fixed my glare on Susan and I'm pretty sure I said something about her completely humiliating him in front of everyone but I can't be sure. It's a bit of a blur now.
I wonder if I might have overreacted slightly but looking back, I actually don't think I did. The mission statement of the club includes building children's confidence and I fail to see how picking solely on Alex to highlight supposed bad behaviour is supposed to build his confidence in any way, shape or form. I've written a bit of a snotty email to that effect and we'll see what happens.
It's an unfortunate situation to find ourselves in because Alex has always been very enthusiastic about Pixies*, and ironically we originally enrolled him because we thought the disciple of karate would do him good. But watching Alex singled out in front of his peers for public humiliation is not the kind of discipline I signed up for. As his mum, I'm well aware of his personality and his failure to concentrate for the full 45 minutes of the class and yes, he hard life lessons to learn. But he can learn them with the positive support of his family, his friends and his school teachers.
As far as Alex is concerned, Pixies* has simply finished for the summer and I will quietly fester on his behalf.
* names changed to avoid any nasty recriminations.
