Lessons from Luc

While pregnant, I imagined how much I'd learn from Luc about learning itself. I thought that it would be fascinating to observe his attempts to walk, talk, read, and ride a bike. I imagined our home as a kind of learning lab where Chris and I would formulate theories of language acquisition. What I hadn't anticipated was how I'd absorb Luc into my own identity. I couldn't maintain enough objectivity with Luc to adequately assess the process. His success or failure was a reflection of my own strengths or weaknesses. I was so anxious for him to reach certain milestones that I couldn't enjoy the process of learning from his learning in the way that I wanted to. Intellectually, I understood that all children have their own timelines, but emotionally I felt that any developmental delays would be due to my mistakes.

Now that Luc has begun to to take standardized tests and receive progress reports which are more than smile sheets, I need to constantly tell myself that his success or failures are his, not mine. Otherwise I find myself feeling all the pressure I did as a child and venting it at Luc. At the same time as I want Luc to have a work ethic and succeed in all that he does, I don't want him to feel the same inner pressures from the stern internal judge that I've lived with during my life.

Though it may be the case that our home never become a learning lab, I learn from Luc in ways that continue to surprise me. The same closeness that blocked my attempts to learn about an abstract process like language acquisition has led to opportunities for self knowledge. A few years ago, Luc responded to his inability to accomplish a minor task by repeating over and over, "I hate myself. I'm so stupid. I'm an idiot." When I heard him, I was stunned because I was listening to a recording that had been playing in my mind for decades. I realized that if I didn't silence that voice in my own head, my son would hear the same words which had haunted me for the rest of his life.

Yesterday I reviewed Luc's latest progress report. It was good but not perfect. When I questioned him about why he needed to improve in two areas, I could hear the tone of the stern judge creep into my voice. I pushed it down and I think it was okay. And once I was able to do that, I could treat the report as the learning opportunity it was intended to be.

When I checked with Luc's teacher about why he seemed to have some issues working with others, I was reminded of how our strengths can so easily turn into our weaknesses. Luc's expressiveness, which manifests itself in many positive ways, also leads to a tendency to complain. And I know he'll learn to temper that strength. And rather than learn about learning itself from Luc, I have learned and I'll continue to learn about myself.