Sock starts with S.
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Last year, whenever I thought about Téo going to school, I'd feel a tightness in my chest. Not because mah baybee was all grown up and going to school, but because he is going to school to do... nothing.
Nothing. NOTHING.
For his first two years at school, he will be expected to:
1. Learn to count to 10.
2. Learn the names of some colours.
3. Learn to sit still and do an activity for 15 minutes.
Two years. That's all he'll be learning. Things he's been able to do since he was 3. Nothing more until he's 7.
Only the thought that this country is a highly successful one not known for a poorly educated population kept a full blown panic attack at bay.
Because I like the Australian system better. I do think this age (and even younger) is a good age to start real teaching - now, when they are so eager to learn. Now, so any problems can be picked up early. Now, so that their experiences and interests can already be broadened.
I've found it hard going back to Sydney and seeing my niece reading since she was 4, seeing how much other stuff she's learning. I've worried and fretted that Téo is missing out on this. And admitted I'll find it hard to see Téo fall behind his Australian peers once my friends' kids his age start school.
I've ranted and felt frustrated... and then I got over myself. It's not like he'll never learn anything, it's just going to be later. And actually, it gives me a chance I otherwise would not have had - the chance to teach him to read in English (which I wouldn't have done if he were simultaneously learning to read in French at school).
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I had already made this decision by the time of the airport proclamation - which came as a bit of a surprise given how little I had done to teach Téo anything about reading. Even his recitation of the alphabet was still pretty sketchy.
But this proclamation - realisation - signalled the start of a definite interest in letters and words. And it came at a good time - his Australian cousin of the same age was doing the same thing and just starting to read, which served as good reinforcement.
I bought a heap of work books in Sydney, with the intention that we would start our lessons once he started school.
But Téo had other ideas. After I explained to him that I would teach him to read, he wanted lessons straight away. Some of this was a ploy to have my attention, I am sure, but still, he was definitely interested.
A couple of weeks ago, we started. C S T O A. The five most commonly used letters in English.
The first three times, he was nearly there, but not quite. He could say the sound each letter made, but not really put the sounds together to make a word unless I said the sounds first. And even once he'd sounded out then said a word, he didn't seem to recognise it the next time he saw it. He'd guess, or try to fit the words to what he wanted them to be. He stayed on the cusp of getting it.
Yesterday he came to my office again. Mummy, can I have a weading lesson?
He wasn't interested in the preliminary stuff, the practising of individual letter sounds. Go straight to the big words mummy.
The first page, he sounded out the letters perfectly and then said the words, without me doing anything. The second page, he read. He read!
a cat sat at a cot.
I clearly remember the moment I realised I could read, 35 years ago in Kindergarten. Little man, I hope you remember your moment too.
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