No One Will Believe You….

I went on a field trip with my 4 year and the rest of her butterfly-loving kindergarten class the other day.

Aside from the beautiful butterflies living in what I can only describe as a life size, insect-sweat lodge, I noticed something interesting about my daughter (and a lot about frizzy hair).

She was the first to put up her hand when the tour guide asked, “Does anyone have a favourite bug?”

I watched intently wondering what bug she might say, maybe the kind that crashes Mommy’s hard drive?

The guide pointed to Chloe who instead of telling the world the common mosquito was her favourite bug, she said, “Ally’s not sitting on her bum like she’s supposed to.”

Oh good, it appears we’re raising a South Western Ontario, pink-spotted tattle tale.

Then yesterday, she came home from school excited to tell me about her day as the star student.

I asked her all about the special privileges bestowed on the star and how she enjoyed the spotlight.

Aside from the obvious, line-leader, attendance taker-upper, she mentioned an incident involving a boy in her class. The boy “Devon” didn’t realize she was the star student (allegedly) which under these circumstances gives the star the authority to circumvent any and all lines and cut in front of fellow students. He (allegedly) told her to move to the back or he would bring an axe and hit her in the head with it.


So, there’s that.


When I asked Chloe how she responded, she told me she threatened to tell a teacher but the boy said, “Go ahead, no one will believe you.” My heart started pounding.


Her big sister piped up from the kitchen table, “Don’t worry about it Chloe, they don’t allow axes at school.”


Not what I was hoping to hear.


Given the explosive allegations against Jian Ghomeshi this week, the media attention and the brave women who have stepped forward, I hated thinking my kids were learning about being silenced as early as kindergarten.


I asked my 4 year old what she did and she said she told. Of course she told. Phew. Okay, what did the yard supervisor do? She made “Devon” say sorry and stand against the wall for a few minutes.


Good. She told, someone listened, there was an apology and a consequence.

I’m proud of my pink-spotted tattle-tale.

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