Anna has just turned five. She is in our Transitional Kindergarten class. For the first month and a half of school, she was overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds of the rolling wave we call elementary school to react with much but a slack jaw. At some point over the last month, she began to awaken to just how busy every day was and out popped her fear. Mostly in transitions, moving from her classroom to the lunchroom to the playground and back. All that shifting about made her extremely anxious.
I know this because she told me.
Through sobs and gasps, she clung to me, holding my hand and pleading with me to make things safe. Every approaching child was a threat. Every potential activity was a trick, designed to move her further away from whatever sense of security she might have. Anna struggled. I might have taken this as mild flattery, being the one adult she had chosen to trust, but I quickly understood that I was just the current link in a chain of grownups upon whom she had latched.
Still, my job of roaming about the playground during recess isn't impeded much by having a little person holding on to my hand, except when I have to stop to tie someone else's shoes, or if there is trouble in the boy's bathroom that needs to be halted. During these sojourns about the yard during lunch recess, I have continued to try and convince Anna that there are far more interesting people and things to do than hanging with Mister Caven. A number of Anna's classmates, starting with Alice, have come up to us and asked Anna if she would like to play. Anna's response has been to cower behind me and shout "Noooo!" We worked on this until we managed to get a wincing "No thank you," so as not to hurt the feelings of the potential friends.
With each new entree, I have asked Anna if she might not reconsider, which had been met with more worry and woe. And so we walked the playground, looking for someone or something that might serve as a distraction for part of the day.
Until this past Thursday. Alice returned, and to her credit she did not rush up and immediately intimidate Anna. Alice asked me if I thought Anna might like to play. I looked at Anna, whose face brightened, and then she said, "Yes. I would like to be her friend." With that, she dropped my hand and went racing off to the play structure, where a world of wonder and potential friendships awaited.
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