I hated math when I was a kid. Who’s with me? It was tedious having to practice the same problems over and over again. I remember making up all kinds of excuses not to do my math homework. It was no surprise, then, to find out that our oldest daughter was having trouble in the subject. In addition to that, (pun intended-always intend your puns) she’s learning all of this in her second language and it made sense that she needed more help in this subject than in her others.
Kids in Austrian elementary school finish their day before lunchtime. Which means that they are sent home with a bit more homework than elementary kids in the U.S. might be. Early on, N.’s teacher told us that they should not take much more than an hour to do homework. However, with N’s math difficulties, she was spending at least double that, if not more. So when she came home with a permission slip that she needed tutoring, we were not shocked. However, what the permission slip communicated did cause me a little bit of what I like to call culture stress.
The permission slip N. came home with simply stated that she needed tutoring, the tutoring class was in the afternoon, and please sign here to give your permission. Now, this may not sound like a big deal to you, but what was missing for me was an explanation. There was no note from the teacher saying why she thought N. needed tutoring, what she thought the problem might be, the steps that they might take to help solve the problem- just, “your child needs tutoring, please give us your consent.” Granted, all of that other stuff might have been a bit much to note on the form, but some kind of explanation, any kind of explanation, would have been nice.
Looking back, I think my reaction was partly due to cultural differences. As an American, I want control. I want to know what my options are and to feel that I am the one in the drivers’ seat. If I have to give my consent to something, I want to know what I am getting into (unless I’m downloading an app (who has time to read the terms and agreements on Candy Crush Saga anyway?). However, my point is that this notice went against the grain of my cultural expectations.
Well, I eventually got more information, signed the notice and N. got the tutoring that she needed. I also got a glimpse into my own expectations of control. So what kinds of things challenge your expectations of control?
If you would like to hear more about what Liz and I learned during N.’s first year of school, check out our podcast episode: