Primul stilou al scolarului

Imi amintesc si acum primul meu stilou chinezesc, cu penita mica din aur 🙂 Carcasa era verde, capacul auriu. Aveam grija de el mai ceva ca de cheia de la gat! Sa nu cada cumva in penita si sa se strice… Imi aduc aminte si de petele de cerneala de peste tot (haine, covor, caiete si carti), purcelusii si picul, care mereu ma scotea din impas. La un moment dat insa, stiloul meu tot s-a stricat. Nu, nu l-am scapat in penita, s-a crapat carcasa. Am primit in schimb un alt stilou chinezesc, roz! Avea penita mare, model ce acum cred ca se numeste Fountain Pen. S-o fi chemat si pe vremea aceea, dar eu nu aveam de unde sti 🙂 Scria mai bine, dar mereu aveam grija sa nu cumva sa apas prea tare si sa se despice penita. Cand pisica nu era acasa (adica mama sau tata) deschideam sertarul lor cu surprize unde tineau tot felul de lucruri pretioase. Acolo am vazut pentru prima oara un stilou Pelikan! Il scoteam din cutia lui frumoasa si ma uitam la el, nou nout si sclipitor si imi imaginam cate note de 10 trebuie sa mai iau sa primesc si eu unul…

Anii au trecut, note de 10 am mai luat, dar nu imi aduc aminte sa fi avut un stilou Pelikan. La facultate mi-am cumparat din prima bursa un stilou Rotring din aluminiu. Era usor si frumos, scria foarte bine, mai scrie si astazi, dupa 20 de ani, la fel de bine.

Pentru ca la grupa mare educatoarea copilului a dorit sa ii invete sa scrie cu stiloul, am inceput sa studiez ce variante si optiuni am pentru primul stilou al fiicei mele. Am citit si am tot citit, am vazut tot felul de filmulete pe youtube si m-am oprit la un Faber Castell Grip Pen size F (fine). Roz 🙂 Gama Grip si Jumbo Grip de la Faber Castell o stim si o cumpar de cand fiica mea avea 2-3 ani. Dupa creioanele cerate, am ales sa fac trecerea la carioci si creioane colorate Jumbo Grip, pentru o mai buna aderenta si a o deprinde sa tina corect creionul inca de la inceput. Stiloul nu are partea de care il tine copilul cu punctuletele Grip, este din material normal, insa are o aderenta buna, este foarte usor si scrie cu usurinta pentru o penita fina, nu trebuie apasat foarte tare. Pretul a fost unul foarte bun, cred ca l-am cumparat la set cu un creion mecanic cu mina de 0,7 mm. Tot roz, fireste 🙂 Acum, dupa ce am mai capatat ceva experienta, as alege ca prim stilou unul cu penita M ( mediu), scrie mai usor si este indicat pentru incepatori. Si as adauga ca nu lasa foarte usor cerneala pe hartie.

O alta varianta, in opinia mea cea mai buna optiune, este celebrul Lamy Safari M. Are o gama de culori variata, mate sau lucioase din care pot alege cei mici preferatul. Este foarte usor, scrie cel mai bine dintre toate stilourile testate de noi. Si este singurul al carui design este astfel conceput incat singura pozitie in care poate fi tinut este cu penita in sus, lucru care mi se pare foarte important. Are indicator pentru nivelul de cerneala si este facut in Germania de compania lui Josef Lamy, care colaborase anterior la compania franceza The Parker Pen. Singurul dezavantaj pe care il gasesc acestui stilou este ca poate fi alimentat doar cu patroane Lamy. Ca pret este comparabil cu Parker Vector si mi se pare un pret corect, raportat la cat de fiabile par si cat de usor traseaza liniutele si bastonasele.

Urmatorul stilou probat de scolarita noastra a fost un Parker Vector din aluminiu, usor, mic si compact. A fost luat initial pentru a il oferi cuiva, insa si-a dorit ea mult sa il deschida si a ramas al ei. Penita este mica si pare foarte rezistenta, scrie extrem de bine si incape si in cel mai aglomerat penar din lume. Poate fi alimentat cu patroane Parker sau cu converterul primit o data cu stiloul, ce poate fi reumplut cu cerneala ori de cate ori este nevoie. Asadar este recomandata si achizitia unei calimare cu cerneala.

Ca o concluzie, desi multe cadre didactice va vor sfatui sa alegeti un stilou ieftin ca prim stilou al copilului, eu nu as alege sub nicio forma o marca entry level ca prim stilou al copilului. Pe principiu ca “ Sunt prea sarac sa imi cumpar lucruri ieftine”, in acest caz un stilou greu de tinut cu degetele mici, care scartaie la scris si in cateva luni trebuie inlocuit cu altul. Copilul se va chinui mereu sa il tina corect si sa scrie cu el si nu stiu cat drag va prinde de aceasta noua si dificila pentru el metoda de scriere.

Favoritul nostru a fost si va ramane mult timp stiloul Lamy. Lasa cerneala foarte usor, are acele spatii dedicate unde cei mici sa isi tina degetele pentru o pozitie corecta de prindere a stiloului, este usor si are si indicator pentru nivelul de cerneala ramas.

Nu am avut curaj sa incerc un stilou Pelikan pentru cea mica 🙂 Am avut curaj insa sa ii comand un stilou facut din materiale reciclabile, tot isi doreste ea sa salveze animalele si planeta. Este facut in Germania, marca Online, insa o recomandare pot oferi doar dupa ce il primim si testam.

Later edit: Gata, pot oferi detalii si despre stiloul 2nd life de la producatorul german ONLINE. Penita este M ( medium), stiloul extrem de usor, transparent, realizat din plasticul reciclat al unei sticle de apa. De fapt si designul lui aminteste de o sticla de apa. Zona de prindere este un grip, foarte aderenta si usor de tinut, cu loc special pentru cele doua degete cu care se tine stiloul. Fie este un patent similar cu cel al stiloului Lamy Safari, fie designerii lor au avut fix aceleasi idei inovatoare 🙂 Referitor la calitatile lui, lasa cerneala cel mai usor dintre toate stilourile testate pana acum si este si cel mai usor. Iar pretul este si el mult mai usor decat cel al concurentilor lui directi, Lamy Safari si Parker Vector. Ca fiabilitate voi reveni dupa cateva luni de folosinta cu detalii.

Un singur lucru l-as fi dorit putin altfel la acest stilou si “fratele” sau mai celebru, Lamy Safari: sa nu fie atat de groase. Pentru un adult nu este deloc un impediment in utilizare, pentru o scolarita de 7 ani insa pare un pic cam … mare.

Ca mentiuni, in diverse topuri si review-uri despre stilouri pentru incepatori apar cateva modele de stilouri de la Pilot si de la Stabilo. Nu le-am cumparat, nu doresc sa avem un mic depozit, dar presupun ca sunt o varianta de luat in calcul. Pardon, in scris!

Ce as vrea eu sa invat la scoala

In vara aceasta fiica mea, care abia terminase clasa pregatitoare, m-a intrebat cati ani mai “trebuie” sa mearga la scoala. Pe acest “trebuie”, constanta in viata si rutina mea zilnica de cand ma stiu, am incercat din rasputeri sa il elimin din viata copilului meu. Dar el totusi exista, pentru ca, nu-i asa, unele lucruri chiar trebuie facute. Raspunsul meu a fost 12.

⁃ 12 ce, mama? fii atenta si raspunde corect!

⁃ 12 ani trebuie tu sa mai mergi la scoala.

⁃ Adica o sa am cati ani cand ii termin? 12 plus 7? 19 ani???

⁃ Da, puiule.

⁃ O sa fiu adult atunci! Nu pot sa cred asta, o sa treaca toata copilaria mea…

⁃ Sau, ar mai fi o varianta: daca esti super priceputa la anumite materii, poti face doi ani in unul si termini mai repede.

⁃ Da, eu sunt priceputa la calculari si la desenat si construit, as putea face asta!

Discutia nu a mai continuat pentru ca ea a dorit sa “rumege” aceasta noua realitate, in care scoala ei, inceputa la 6 anisori si un pic, se va termina la 19. Dar cumva scoala asta si trebuie sa faca, sa transforme niste copii in oameni mari, pregatiti sa dea piept cu viata. Insa vremurile de acum s-au schimbat, ei dau piept cu greutati si lucruri noi si rautati si frustari de mici. Ce scoala ii pregateste pentru asta, pentru timpul prezent? Cand scoala traditionala se ocupa de viitorul lor atat de tare incat uita sa se raporteze la ei corect, potrivit varstei lor actuale? Parintii sunt cei care ii ajuta sa se adapteze provocarilor si schimbarilor zilnice. Parinti care fac asta cumva pe genunchi, fara indrumari si cunostinte aprofundate, atat cat pot ei. Pentru ca scoala asta de parinte nu s-a inventat inca. Te nasti parinte in ziua in care ti se naste primul copil. Il iei acasa, fara manual de instructiuni, si incerci sa faci tot ce poti pentru el, tot restul vietii. Este un proces de invatare continua, in care corigentii nu au niciodata sansa unei reexaminari. Sau sa invete mai bine si sa repete materia si sa treaca in vara… Materia a crescut, este la alt nivel. Toate reusitele si esecurile din viata de parinte se intampla si se evalueaza live, in timp real. No second chances!

Pentru mine principala materie ce ar trebui predata la scoala este Adaptabilitatea. La nou, la imprevizibil, la modul de a gandi si a face lucruri al celor cu care intram in contact zilnic, la bine si frumos, la zile care nu ne zambesc. Copii sau adulti, pentru toti adaptarea poate fi anevoioasa si mare consumatoare de resurse. Poate salva vieti si schimba destine.

De socotit si de scris invatam toti pana la urma. Si apoi deja exista zeci de aplicatii si roboti care pot face asta in locul nostru, mai bine si mai rapid. Ce nu poate face insa inteligenta artificiala este sa simta. Sa fie empatica si calda si sa aiba o inima mare, sa spuna un cuvant bun atunci cand este mare nevoie de el. Asadar a doua materie pe care as vrea eu sa o studiez la scoala ca sa cresc mare este Empatia.

Engleza invata toti copii, pentru ca ei se joaca Minecraft si tot felul de jocuri dragute si invata cuvintele necesare socializarii chiar de acolo: die, die, superhero, super powers, ghosts si cate si mai cate.

O alta materie ar fi Lectura. De cand era in burtica am citit pentru ea si mai apoi cu ea sute de carti. Acum ii citim si noi, ne citeste si ea. Cartile ne ajuta, pe noi adultii dar mai important pe ei, copiii, sa vedem si sa ne imaginam lumi si realitati la care altfel nu am avea acces. Si Vorbitul corect. Observ ca a devenit mai simplu sa nu mai vorbim chiar corect si nu imi place asta.

Era sa uit Marele curs de supravietuire si prim ajutor. Sa stie sa isi trateze o julitura, sa deschida un briceag, sa aprinda focul si ,de ce nu, sa vaneze 🙂 Si intr-o nota foarte serioasa, sa aiba grija de ei, de psihicul si de corpul lor. Sa inteleaga ca e normal sa creasca, sa le apara par pe corp, sa simta si sa experimenteze schimbari hormonale. Ca un NU e NU mereu si ca nimeni niciodata nu are dreptul sa ii atinga fara permisiunea lor. Ca primul sarut e doar unul, ala primul si ca timiditatea e buna la fel cum e si emotia, servite moderat cu multa blandete si fara mult stres.

As mai vrea sa invat sa desenez, pentru ca nu ma pricep deloc, dar deloc. Si sa fac noduri si sa imi cos sosetele, sa folosesc diverse materiale sa creez ceva unic, o mica opera de arta. Sa asortez culori si stari de spirit.

Si as mai vrea sa fac o multime de experimente de chimie si de fizica, de stiinte naturale si nu numai. Sa cresc plante, sa ingrijesc un animalut, sa invat despre planete si galaxii, oameni celebri si monumente impresionante. Sa ascult zilnic muzica si poate sa invat sa cant la un instrument.

Acum, daca ati avut rabdare sa cititi tot, imi puteti spune la ce scoala sa ma duc, sa invat lucrurile astea? Nu acum, cand voi fi eu mare 🙂

Cand razboiul vine peste noi

Atunci cand am inceput sa scriu aici, nu imi imaginam ca voi povesti despre pandemie, razboi, invazii sau refugiati. In patratica mea, relele posibile fusesera deja traite sau macar imaginate. Ce se mai putea intampla?! Asta se mai poate intampla! Dimineata, copilul ne-a auzit spunand ca e gata, a inceput razboiul. A intrebat ce e ala si i-am raspuns ca Rusia, tara aia cea mai mare de pe harta, a invadat o alta tara, Ucraina.

⁃ Tara aia mare si galbena de pe harta mea? Aia e Rusia? Ce inseamna invadat?

⁃ Cand vine cineva cu tancuri si arme si soldati peste tine, in casa ta, in tara ta…

Copiii vad totul in culori, simt sa traiasca si sa isi exprime emotiile in functie de cum ne exprimam noi, adultii din viata lor, emotiile.

Cand sunt foarte mici, se sperie daca nu ne mai vad, crezand ca odata disparuti din campul lor vizual, am plecat pentru totdeauna. Tot ce conteaza pentru ei este prezentul si sa se simta in siguranta.

Cand mai cresc si un alt copil le atinge jucariile, nu vor deloc sa le imparta. Ei nu inteleg ca acele lucruri raman tot ale lor si ca actul de imprumut dureaza in fapt doar acele cateva minute. Se tem ca odata ajunse la altcineva le vor pierde definitiv. Cand cresc un pic si mai mari, incep sa realizeze ca ei sunt niste fiinte total independente de parintii lor si astfel le cresc si frustarile si nemultumirile. Legate de esecuri si neputinte, de limitari si ingradiri. Si uneori se supara, tipa, musca sau lovesc. Spun lucruri in care nu cred cu adevarat decat in acel moment, al furiei. Si atunci incercam sa le explicam ca ii intelegem, ca le intelegem si le acceptam supararea, dar nu acceptam sa faca rau.

Pentru generatia mea este prea tarziu sa se mai schimbe ceva. Pentru ca am trait cu batai si vorbe urate si rau. Si toti anii aceia in care am trait asa au adus si validarea acelor comportamente. Acum am devenit noi parinti si avem tendinta sa le replicam la furie. “Ce mare lucru daca i-am dat una? Stii cata bataie luam eu cand eram mic?!” E mare lucru si bataia e mare lucru si tipetele, orice agresiune este un mare lucru. Rau. O invadare.

Insa pentru ei, pentru copiii nostri merita sa facem tot ce putem pentru a invata ca nu asta este calea. Ca fiecare om, mare sau mic, in corpul si in cuibul lui are drepturi pe care nimeni niciodata nu i le poate calca in picioare. Doar pentru ca poate sau asa vrea.

Incerc sa imi imaginez cum ar fi sa pun cateva lucruri necesare intr-o bocceluta si sa plecam toti trei Dumnezeu stie unde. Si mi se umezesc ochii si simt intepaturi de plans in gat. Si stiu ca asa ceva chiar s-a intamplat in familia mea si am auzit povestile bunicilor despre cum au plecat pe front sau din calea lui. Vise si agoniseli si vieti spulberate de razboi, de destin. Pentru ca suntem toti la cheremul destinului. Nimeni nu a cerut sa se nasca ortodox sau evreu, sirian sau ucranian. Soarta este cea care alege. Desi fiica mea insista ca ea a ales sa vina tocmai la noi de pe Luna mica, stie si ea ca nu e chiar asa. La urma urmei, racheta ar fi trebuit sa aterizeze in Australia, dar s-a defectat ceva si s-a catapultat la noi in bucatarie…

Vor curge multe lacrimi si mult sange si vor urma cred luni intregi de pribegie si suferinta.

Este bine ca incercam sa ne crestem copiii frumos, cu povesti minunate, cu unicorni si zane roz. Ca le dam totul si ii ferim de rele si de batai si de Scufite rosii mancate de lupul cel rau. Le ascundem povestile de razboi si pe cele din lagare si inchisori. Pana cand intr-o zi razboiul chiar vine peste ei. Peste tara lor, casa lor, viata lor. Si povestea urata ascunsa cu atata grija devine realitate.

Make friends, not war

Asteptandu-l pe Mos Nicolae

Legenda spune ca diseara Mos Nicolae va veni si va aduce dulciuri in ghetutele tuturor copiilor cuminti din intreg Universul!

Copilul nostru a curatat deja de 3 ori toate incaltarile gasite la usa: pe ale ei, 2 perechi, pe ale mele, 1 pereche si pe ale tatalui ei, tot 2 perechi. Face ce face si se tot duce sa vada daca a venit Mosu’…

– Ti-am zis ca vine dupa ce se face intuneric!In timpul zilei, pe lumina, il pot vedea copilasii cand se furiseaza pe geam.

– Pe geam vine? Nu pe usa? Atunci sa punem ghetutele langa geam, sa ii fie mai usor sa lase toate dulciurile in cizmele mele.

– Lasa-le acolo, se descurca el! Are experienta si stie exact cum sa procedeze!

– Tie nu o sa iti lase prea multe bomboane, nu incap in ghetele tale. De ce nu iti aduci si o pereche de cizme, sa aiba mai mult loc Mos Nicolae? Daca vrea sa iti aduca fructe, cum face? Nu incap! Nici nu ti-ai desfacut nodul la sireturi…

Imi doresc sa se faca seara mai repede, deja nerabdarea ei este mare si tirul intrebarilor pe masura. Simt nevoia sa ma relaxez putin inainte de a veni Mosu’. Il anunt si pe tatal ei despre intentiile mele si decidem ca ar putea iesi doar ei doi sa se plimbe putin prin vremea mohorata de afara, inainte de marele eveniment al serii.

Pret de cateva minute aud din cealalta camera franturi de cantecele si de rugaminti de a se imbraca si cateva nu-uri. Apoi se face liniste, se aude usa trantindu-se si raman singura, singurica in toata casa! Astept putin, sa fiu sigura ca au plecat, apoi ies din camera. Pe masa din sufragerie gasesc un bilet, scris de manutele ei mici si dragalase:

“NOI AM PLECAT SI O SA NE INTOARCEM”

Nu sunt sigura cui i-a scris, mie sau lui Mos Nicolae…

Asteptandu-l pe Mos Nicolae

Painting with kids

For some time now me and my daughter have a new hobby: painting or reproducing works of famous artists. We paint by numbers or we add paint on scketches or on 3D contours. Is a very relaxing activity and most important, a fun way for her to learn about famous artists or paintings.

Yesterday we started working on a new project: we paint by numbers on a canvas one of Leonid Afremov’s work. She looks at the painting and asks me:

– Mum, what this picture is supposed to represent?

– Well, if we are lucky, it will be a lady and a gentlmen walking in the rain.

– Now it looks more like Picachu…

– Picasso? I ask.

– Yes mama, Picasso! I got the name wrong, but I know how Picasso painted!

Work in progress

We all can show up and do our best

When I started this project, I knew nothing about blogging, themes or pages on wordpress. It still feels like I know very little, but somehow I tried my best to make it a place where I could interact with people that have similar interests. This need of showing up and doing my best was something I felt compelt to do. It was a duty, imposed by me out of respect. For myself and more important, for others. To, at list, show up and do my best.

My daughter is finishing kindergarten this June. She will go to school in September, where everything will be brand new: new teacher, new collegues, new classroom, new rules. A big, scarry unknown for her and also for us, her parents. It will be the start of a new chapter in her life; with duties and lots of things to do and homeworks. A place where she will have to show up every day and do her best because she will have no other option.

She often asks me, in a small, almost crying voice, if I will go with her in the classroom. Of course she knows that it won’t be possible, but she still asks me. Is a thing she does, more like a ritual for her to be more brave in facing this big unknown she will meet soon. And somehow she is also morning the preschooler that she will no longer be. The chair she will no longer take in her actual classroom. The love she think will be lost in her kindergarten teacher’s heart. The memory of her, when all of her friends will go to different schools in town.

It is a process and her mind knows it. She cannot go over it or under it; she has to go through it. As the brave brothers from the book “We’re going on a bear hunt” found out, when you’re facing a big, scary problem you have to solve it.

I try to tell her the truth about the journey that awaits her: it will be hard sometimes, as any begining is; some days she will cry or laugh or miss me. She will learn new things and she would do everything to earn her place there, in the new group. She will not always be her best and she would sometimes fail. But she will try again and again until she will get the work done. Even if she hates not knowing stuff or how to do things.

And most important, I try to explain her that school will be her job, it will be her duty to show up and do the best that she can. And that she will be ok. I let her have her fears and worries, as one cannot tell a 6 yo:”Hey, listen, you don’t have to be afraid of the big unknown in front of you”. Because it is a normal emotion to feel scared. And to be excited and curious also. After all, is the journey that we remember, right? And the friends we meet along the way and all the things we discover. Because in the end every kid will learn to write and read and will certainly know the time table. So the journey is all that matters and we have to make the most out of it.

The atlas of beauty

Women of the world in 500 portraits

Beacause today is International Women’s Day and we celebrate the Woman and her beauty, I want to present you a book-work of art. It is a collection of beautiful faces, an encyclopedia that celebrates women, traditions, love, diversity, differences.

The author, Mihaela Noroc, was born in Chisinau, Republic of Moldova and moved at 6 years old in Bucharest with her family. Her father is a painter and she was surrounded by beauty and colors all of her life. And we feel that in the photos that she seeks and takes. The atlas of beauty started as a personal project, but soon her photos were a huge success and the book became an international phenomenon.

For us, two parents and a 6 years old daughter, the book was emotion! And love, warm, tenderness. We could see faces so different from the ones around us, costumes and traditions from 50 countries. That some of us can “visit” only by seing these photos. We understood that beauty is not about the standard 90/60/90. Ore the one promoted by mass-media. That a woman can be beautiful even if the has a prosthetic leg or she is 90 years old.

That the delicacy and the bond between a mother and her nursing child can’t be compared with anything else. That even if these faces are so different, they are equaly beautiful. Even if they are burned by the sun or pampered with the most delicate creams.

My child could see mothers and children that had another colour of the skin than hers. In their natural homeland, relaxed and happy. And even if she has a very strong rejection reaction for all kinds of “old”, she accepted to look at faces of women with wrinkles or white hair. She knows that her mother will age too, but she doesn’t want to accept it yet. She always wants to buy me a shampoo that she saw in a TV commercial to have it in the house, to use it really quick when my first white hair will appear. For me, to see her looking at old women faces on her free will was the greatest joy!

The three of us learned to see the diversity and not only to turn the page when we feel a discomfort. To understand that the exterior is the reflection of the soul, a beautiful, good and loving soul.

That traditions are still important, in some places in the same way they were hundreds of years ago. That the bond between a mother and her child is the greatest creation on the entire planet.

I learned that only when we are ourselves, in a warm loving enviroment, where we are happy and appreciated, we women are radiant and glowing. And that, no matter what, our children already think that we are the most beautiful. And today, on International Women Day, is the time to remember that and enjoy all the priceless gifts we have in our life.

Happy anniversary beautiful Woman, wherever you are!

Designer … everything

It’s a sunny and beautiful Sunday, 1st of November. After a rainy and chilly Hallowen evening, now the sun and the good weather have made a lot of families went out for a walk. The park is full, in a way it was never full before the Covid-19 pandemy.

My daughter is making mud “meatballs”, there is plenty mud after the last day rains. I prefer to stay on a bench and enjoy the sun, along with her father. On the alley before the bench we stay on walks a father with two daughters, one my daughter’s age and the other one around 9-10 yo. They wear protective masks, all three of them. The oldest daughter is having a very passionate dialog with her father.

A “SHE” person thinks that Gucci is a better brand than Balenciaga, even though she had explained her that is not true! Balenciaga is a more calitative brand than Gucci, everybody knows that! But maybe the “SHE” person they are talking about doesn’t have any Balenciaga clothes and that’s why she thinks that! The father doesn’t respond anything ( what can he respond afterall?) but touch her blonde and curly long hair as they move along on the alley.

I laugh, a rude and almost nervous laugh. And then my daughter comes with her mud meatballs, that she is serving us with some “salad” from a green bush she found. She is happy, as always, with her hands all dirty from the “mud kitchen” and her hair all messed up by the wind. Her sneakers have some mud also on them. We thanks her for the treats and she goes back to her play.

I’m having a strong feeling I’m not a good mother at all! She doesn’t know who Gucci or Balenciaga is. Well, until a decade ago I didn’t knew who they were. What if she goes to school with a fashion expert like the girl that just walked by and then my precious girl will become the “SHE” person in some other girl’s story? I mean, I can be the “SHE” person, I don’t have any Balenciaga clothes. Or Gucci… I had a fantasy with a LV backpack for a while, but since you can get a “better than original” made in China copy, I let it go.

And one more thing: Gucci, Prada, Louis, why don’t you make some designer protective masks? I mean, come on now, the girl was wearing a simple blue mask. God only knows who designed it!

School in time of Covid-19

We’re back in online now. And, beside all the tehnicalities that can go wrong (and sometimes they sure do) there are a lot of other aspects that can’t be ignored.

For instance, if you are a parent of 2 or more children, you must possess the following:

1. a big house, with a number of rooms, equiped with table,desk and chairs, bigger then the number of children attending online courses. And the rooms must not be too close, in order that the online classes can be held properly; the teacher and the students will talk loud.

2. a number of electronic devices on wich the lessons can be watched equal or bigger then the number of children. A spair one would be a plus, if a battery wears out or something goes wrong on one of the devices.

3. two sets of hands, heads and bodies entirely, to be fair. If the children are preschoolers or first graders, they will need some asistance on their online courses. And since the classes are generaly in the morning, if you can’t double yourself, find a helper. Or own the fact that you are serious limiting your children rights to a free mandatory education. If they attend a public preschool or school. If not, save some money for later therapy sesions, it will be needed!

4. if you are a teacher yourself, that could be a really big challenge. The biggest of all I assume. In one room of the house your kid is having his online classes, in the other you are holding yours. Top that!

5. money to pay your electricity, heating and cable bills. Imagine having online classes in a house without electricity, cable or heat. As a lot of the houses in rural Romania are.

I heard today at “radio gossip” that the Romanian Minister of Education, when asked how can the online courses can be held in a house without electricity, she replied that the children can watch the lessons on TV. I sure hope it was a misunderstanding and that the history will remember her for something else, bigger then all of that.

Last day of school in pandemic times

When I was little, the middle of June was the happiest time of the entire year. It was the end of the school year and the begining of summer holiday. We would braid crowns from oak leaves to receive as prices for our academic results, we would make plans with our friends to meet and play all summer long.

Today is officialy the last day of this school year. In fact, the kids haven’t set foot on a classroom in the last 3 moths. They haven’t seen each other, nor their educators or theachers.

For my daughter is the last day of kindergarten. For the last 3 years, she had a teacher. Her first teacher. The arms that welcomed her with love and patience, the arms she ran to everytime she needed. The eyes that validated her accomplishments, the voice that taught her all the things she needed to know. To become the preschooler that she is today. A young lady that seems to know everything already. And which, for the last 3 months, had only one wish: to be her teacher’s student one more day, after the bad virus goes away.

It seems that this was one wish faith didn’t grant her…

In life, in any stage or relationship, we all need closure. To prepair ourselves for what it is about to end and to enjoy the time we still have together. Somehow this pandemic took away from our children the right to this important stage, closure. They should have been able to say good-bye in their own classroom, to properly hug their classmates and teachers they are saying good-bye to.

If one good thing came from this horrific time is that our kids learned to adapt even more than they had to before. They understood that we cannot go to the park or to the playground, that we have to wear mask in public places, that we cannot meet or hug with our loved ones. The pandemic took all that away too from our children.

But it didn’t took the love they feel in their little hearts. The love will always be there to remind them who they are, who they were, who our teachers or classmates were!

Good bye teachers, good bye friends

We thank you all for everything!

We have places to go and people to meet

But our memories of you will always be sweet!