Une Journee Portes Ouvertes De L'Ecole

My little chimney sweep peeking out to
make sure his parents were there

As parents of an up and coming student, this past week Glenn and I participated in what will be the first of many for us: the annual spring performance. I remember my own parents attending my performances and I'm realizing that regardless of the decade, the country, or the student's age, some things just never change. And now that I have been on both sides of the performance stage I have a whole new appreciation for everything it entails.

I'm not sure whether it is just the way Belgian schools communicate with their parents or my lacking of clear understanding of the French language (most likely it is a combination of both), but this whole spring performance remained somewhat of a mystery right up until the moment it went live. (And other parents, regardless of their mother tongue felt the same way). Back in March Sidney began talking about practicing for his show but never elaborated on what that actually meant. Early last month a notice was sent home in both French and English announcing a school wide open house that would be held over the course of two weeks and asking permission for our children to participate. With no times or further details forthcoming we granted permission. It was around this point when Sidney found the original Julie Andrews version of Mary Poppins at the library and asked to bring it home. As he danced along to the music in our living room he said that he was practicing for his school show. Ah-ha, I finally put two and two together to realize that his class would be staging a performance of Mary Poppins. I still didn't know when it would be and beyond his dance moves Sidney couldn't tell me what his role would be but at least I began to understand what was going on.

Two weeks ago on a Wednesday I received a notice from the school that I was required to provide Sidney with a costume of a black hat, black pants, and black shirt no later than Friday. Sidney did not own a single black item and Thursday was a Belgian holiday where unlike in the United States, everything is closed for business. Still not sure what his role was we scurried off to the mall after school and secured the required items which were (thankfully) met with Madam's approving nod. I still had no idea when Sidney would be performing and wondered how an open house could go on for weeks. Surely they wouldn't have little four-year-olds performing every day. Would they?

It turns out the answer was no. Two weeks ago we were told that Sidney's class, des Cerises, would be performing at 13:45 sharp on Thursday and that parents were to gather in the small gymnasium ahead of time. Under a strict warning from Sidney that we were not to embarrass him, Glenn and I crammed into the stuffy room with the other parents at our designated time. There were very few chairs so most of us stood. The room grew hot as we waited for the performance to begin. It gave me an opportunity to check out my fellow parents, many of whom I recognized from morning drop off. Attire included everything from a spandex biking outfit and short shorts to jeans and tons of camouflage and flight suits. (This is a military environment after all). We were a motley crew ready to watch our little international actors perform. There were cameras, iPhones, iPads and even a few full fledged video cameras poised and ready to go when the small students, under the watchful eyes of a cadre of Madams entered the room and tentatively acted out their scenes. The kids just looked so small as they stepped out in front of the parental paparazzi. No tears were shed although a few kids looked as though they wanted to bolt. Others, including our little chimney sweeper of a son, were hams as they fearlessly jumped and danced their way around the room. The lyrics were all in French but this didn't deter Sidney as he moved right along to the music. Seeing my little boy out there smeared in paint and acting so sure of himself was one of those moments that my mother had warned me about. I felt such enormous pride that it just made my heart melt.

After the show Sidney showed off his artwork which was decorating the hallway. As I've mentioned before we are not an artistic family so it was wonderful to see his colorful drawings and scratched out name that were on par with his classmates. (Now if only I could get him to do something other than scribble with a black marker at home since I now know he can do it). Sidney was bursting with excitement and pride as he showed Glenn and I what he had been doing at school. Then the entire class hustled back into their room where they stripped down to their underwear and back into the street clothes while the Madams looked on and parents milled about. (Yes, we are in Europe and no one was batting an eye as all of this went on). Then there were kisses for the Madams, backpacks were collected and the kids were dismissed early.

So we survived our first Belgian open house. I'm not sure I would call this whole experience an open house by American standards but at the core was a ritual that we will be repeating for years to come. With short notice I assembled a costume (I wonder if my mom remembers the reindeer incident of Christmas 1979?) and watched my little boy have his acting debut. I'm sure each school performance will become more sophisticated but I'm mighty proud of my little four year old dancing his heart out to a French Mary Poppins. So here's to the years of performances that are to come.

Surprise! Here's to the little actors and their
 amazing (and patient) Belgian teachers 

Sidney Goes To School

Last week my little boy started school for the first time. I'll be honest; up until the moment when we dropped him off I wasn't sure how it was going to go. But in the end, Sidney was a rock star! At a little over four years old I know he is late by today's standards for starting pre-school but prior to arriving here in Belgium, I felt as though our options were limited. Yes there were pre-schools in Albania where other Americans sent their children but I felt as though the costs and benefits just weren't worth it. So we held off knowing that we would soon be heading to Belgium with the plan to enroll him in the Belgian operated French immersion pre-school, or kindergarten, at S.H.A.P.E. And that is just what we did.

Sidney was apprehensive about starting school. In all of our conversations leading up to his starting he expressed excitement at the idea of having new friends, trying new activities, and even learning French. We talked about how his school would be next door to daddy's job and Sidney's new job would be to go to school each day. He would nod with understanding but then he would turn around and say he wanted to move back to Albania and stay home with me all day. We gently told him that neither were possible options and he would nod sadly but soon we would start the whole conversation cycle over again. Needless to say, I wasn't sure how things were going to go.

The day we visited the school to enroll Sidney he went willingly and even enjoyed playing with a few new toys. The highlight of the trip was drinking out of the tot sized water fountain but once we left the campus Sidney informed us that he wasn't going to school the next morning. But the next morning he was awake before us and readily picked out his clothes for the day. He even helped pack up his new backpack and eagerly walked to the car. During the ride to school he was silent but as we pulled into the parking lot he again reaffirmed his decision that he would not be going to school. When we told him that he had to go I expected tears but at that moment, none were shed. Instead he silently held our hands as we walked to his classroom at met Madame Isabelle, his Chanel wearing, French speaking teacher. Looking between Madame Isabelle and us, Sidney asked if we were staying with him. When I told him no, but assured him that we would be back to pick him up, his big blue eyes welled with tears. Assuring us that Sidney would be OK and shooing us out of the classroom, Madame Isabelle scooped Sidney up and Glenn and I slunk out of the school to the sound of Sidney's plentiful wails for "Mamma."

Wednesday are a half day at the Belgian kindergarten so when Glenn and I returned a few hours later relieved that we hadn't received a phone call requesting us to pick Sidney up early. Because we found ourselves a few minutes early, we sat in the parking lot and watched Sidney's class play on the playground. There was our little red coated son playing alongside his classmates then clasping hands with one boy and walking back into the school alongside his class. It was at that moment that we both exhaled in a collective sigh of relief that things were working out. Madame Isabelle's only comment to us was that Sidney had lots of energy. Smelling like Madame Isabelle's perfume, Sidney's comment was that he "cried for a long time for Mamma" but upon further questioning he started talking about playing with Legos and jumping on the playground. When we asked if he liked school he said yes but then proceeded to inform us that he wasn't going back. These statements were repeated throughout the evening but overall we thought the day went well.

Thursday morning Sidney once again informed us that he wasn't going to school but quickly got dressed, ate breakfast and got in the car. At the school he repeated that he wasn't going but dutifully walked to his classroom. Once he was greeted by Madame Isabelle he quickly spotted a new toy and busied himself with discovering its ins and outs and ignored us. Yes, our little boy dismissed us by turning his back to us so we left, both relieved that we had escaped another round of tears and a bit hurt at being dismissed. Pick up that afternoon was much like the day before but since Sidney had been there all day we got an earful of even more activities. Sidney assured us that he had fun and liked school but once again informed us that he didn't want to go back. Friday was more of the same only at drop off he quickly gave me a kiss, Glenn a hug then ran to the waiting arms of Madame Isabelle. He even responded to her French greetings and didn't notice when we left the room.

So yes, I do believe my little boy is liking school. In the evenings, smelling of perfume, he is talking eagerly about what he did and saw during the day. He is talking about playing, sharing, and making friends; it makes a Mamma's heart swell to hear his happy chatter. He says he likes Madame Isabelle. I can only hope that his love of school continues. And someday, when he brings home a girl reeking of Chanel I'll know that these early school days were quite memorable.