2e Tuesday::Being Put On The Spot.

Posted by Tiff in Out Of The Box Thinkers, Uncategorized | 9 comments

The kids and I finally went to our local library to check out books and get a library card. When we met up with the librarian to check out, we encountered the type of person who you suspect, if it were legal, would carry around a switch to beat people who breathe too loudly or read too noisily. She was not the type of librarian to read books to children in the reading nook, or the kind that you want to take home with you because they are so attentive, calm, and smart about how to get things done. This one kinda scared me as she greeted us with a cold stare and a tapping pencil.

We had gathered handfuls of books, which really pissed this woman off. I’ve noticed that there are two kinds of librarians…the kind that want you to use the library and all the books with wild abandon, or the kind that feels like each and every book is their own personal ward of the state and belong right there in the library for time and all eternity. She informed me that I couldn’t check out that many books anyway, because new members can only check out 3 at a time until a grace period had passed. I looked at each of the three kids and decided to get them cards, too, so we could at least leave with 12 books instead of 3.

This is when it started going wonky. And by wonky, I mean, badly.

She handed each of us a form to fill out. Full name, birthday, address, etc., etc.

If there’s one thing we are shaky on over here, it’s form filling out. Without the homework and state test forms to prepare them, my kids aren’t the best at filling letters into boxes and lines.

For the 3 of us with dyscalculia, also shaky would be remembering addresses and dates.

For the 2 or so of us with dysgraphia, shaky also defines writing anything down, period.

There’s the school of thought that says, “if you know there’s a weakness, then you focus on making them do that thing until they get good at it!” So, I would have all of us filling out forms and reciting addresses and birthdates at home.

Then there’s my school of thought that says, “if I know there’s a weakness, first rethink it not as a weakness but just as something that’s a part of who they are. Accept it. Stop freaking out about it. Allow them time and space to explore doing the things they want to do instead of things they aren’t ready to do. Trust that eventually they will develop skills and patience and have an experience where their interest will lead them to doing whatever their previous ‘weakness’ was and they will find a way to overcome it. Or deal with it. Or accomodate it.” So, we don’t fill out forms or write down addresses and birthdays at home.

Anyway, being faced with the form wasn’t a big deal. Naturalist couldn’t remember our address and asked me if I had a checkbook or something that she could copy it down from. Golfer took his time painstakingly writing each letter. Sassy couldn’t be bothered with the form at all and was looking through her library books.

The librarian pointed at Sassy and said, “You have to fill out your form to get the card. Write your name down.”

Sassy, 7 and dyslexic, gets a little antsy and rebellious whenever writing comes up. She just looked at the librarian.

Librarian: “Write your name down. There. (pause) You DO know how to write your name, don’t you?!”
Sassy: … (her gaze quickly matching the stern and exasperated librarian’s)
Librarian: “Well, do you? Do you know your letters?”
Sassy: … (stone. cold.)

I intervened. I can’t stop people from interrogating my kids, but I can run interference. Often I don’t have to if the tone is respectful, but when my kids or I fear that the next question will be “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!” then enough is enough.

I put my hand on Sassy’s shoulder. “All these lines are where your name and information get written down. Would you like to do it, or would you like me to do it?”
Sassy said that I could do it, so I did.

Librarian: “Well, she has to sign her name herself on her library card.”
Sassy just looked at her.
I told Sassy that the line on the card was for her to put her special mark down on it. Her name, or something that made her think of who she was. So she wrote down a series of hearts, happy faces, and plus signs.
The librarian was not happy about this at all, but by this time I was giving her the stone cold look.

I almost never run interference by saying things in front of the kids like, “oh, she’s dyslexic. That’s why she can’t write her name”. I really don’t like labels, and I really don’t like excuses. I like to know what labels can be applied to find out information on whatever particular thing we’re dealing with, but stop at that. I like them to know it doesn’t define them, and I respect this by not using it to define them to other people.

By this time, the exasperated librarian had broken her own rule of not helping to help Naturalist finish filling out her form. “So, is your middle name spelled with a C or a K?” She asked. Naturalist said, “Well, let me think. It could be either one, I keep forgetting…” … “Mom, is it a C or a K?!”

The Librarian sighed.

Then Golfer turned in his paper. Except for writing very slowly, he remembers everything with almost photographic detail. So, I was surprised that when the Librarian asked him, “And what does your middle name start with? You forgot to write it down” he said, “N!” followed closely by, “No, S!” All I can say is that usually being put on the spot makes quick thinking harder to do.

The librarian looked at all of us like we had three heads, leveling her gaze on him. “Well which is it? We can’t get this wrong!”

Because yes, heaven forbid we get something wrong on a plastic slip.

The librarian had one more question….for me.

“What is your youngest’s birthday?”

I had forgotten to write it in.

I am terrible at date recall. I am terrible at recall at all when I’m on the spot…I’ve incorporated this into my “get out of tickets” routine. I started sweating a little bit.

“Well, it’s sometime in the 2000′s. Like, around 2002 but not after 2005.”

The librarian looked like she wanted to jam her pencil into my ear.

“2004. I don’t want to get it wrong, like you said. So I’m pretty confident you can write down 2004. If I’m wrong, I’ll come back and tell you!”

We got our cards and books and walked away. When we got out of the library I stopped and laughed really hard.

Golfer, who is always the most concerned about what people think about him, said, “I bet she thinks we’re all really stupid.”

So we talked about that a little bit. What makes someone stupid, what is stupid, if we were stupid.

I always like to go back to my standard speech: “Different people are really good at different things! Some people build things easily. Some people are good with numbers. Some are great with animals. And those same people are also not so good at different things. Like, I can’t speak very well, but I love to write. Just because some things aren’t easy for us doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”

Then we had some ice cream at the local corner store. And laughed some more at the story the librarian was going to tell her friends about stupid homeschoolers. Sometimes we break the stereotype, and sometimes we totally make it. Either way, I hope my kids are learning that it’s pointless to spend time stressing out over what other people think of you. You accept who you are and go from there.

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