A headmistress at a school in the UK sent home a letter to parents telling them to stop wearing their pyjamas to school. If you are in the UK, I am sure you have heard all about this. If you are not, you can read a bit about it here.
I am outraged at the suggestion that the reason any school results are sagging is due to the fact that the parents are wearing pyjamas. In fact, the mere suggestion that this is to blame for the schools failure points out to me that the true failure quite probably sits more with the headmistress.
How dare she judge those parents. She doesn't know them. She doesn't know the battles they may be waging every day. Maybe they are struggling with depression, anxiety, or any other number of of mental illnesses. Maybe they are suffering from the side effects of chemo therapy or MS or god knows what other physical illness. Maybe they are struggling to make ends meet and working 2 or 3 or more jobs and only had a couple hours sleep. Or maybe they are so worried about their ageing parents they didn't sleep a wink last night. Or maybe they are fighting debilitating addictions and are doing the very best they can.
How dare that holier than thou woman who is supposed to be a role model for all the children in her charge stand up and rain down her judgement.
I have struggled with depression. Still do. I struggle with anxiety every single moment of my waking life. I don't sleep well. I am a big fan of slippers and pyjamas. There are many mornings where I forget to put on shoes when I leave the house. Or decide it doesn't really matter what shoes I wear. There are many a morning where I wear my pyjamas on the school run. Go on judge me, if you want.
But let me tell you this: I live for my children. I would die for them. One of the reasons I am in the state that I am is that I refused to give up fighting to give them the life I always dreamt of giving them until it almost killed me. Literally.
In my pyjamas and my slippers I am doing a whole hell of a lot better teaching my children than this headmistress is at teaching her children. What am I teaching them?
I am teaching them that it doesn't matter what a person wears or looks like. You don't judge a book by their cover. It is what is inside their heart and their head that matters.
I am teaching them that you don't judge at all. Ever. You have no right to judge anyone. Ever.
Work hard. Learn lots. Be grateful. Be kind. Be honest.
What should this headmistress be teaching?
Reading. Writing. Arithmetic. History. Science. Geography.
Instead she is blaming the parents for not getting dressed to her satisfaction. She is teaching them that there is always someone's shortcoming to blame for your failures.
I think this headmistress needs to learn a few lessons herself. In the meantime I may never get dressed again.
I am outraged at the suggestion that the reason any school results are sagging is due to the fact that the parents are wearing pyjamas. In fact, the mere suggestion that this is to blame for the schools failure points out to me that the true failure quite probably sits more with the headmistress.
How dare she judge those parents. She doesn't know them. She doesn't know the battles they may be waging every day. Maybe they are struggling with depression, anxiety, or any other number of of mental illnesses. Maybe they are suffering from the side effects of chemo therapy or MS or god knows what other physical illness. Maybe they are struggling to make ends meet and working 2 or 3 or more jobs and only had a couple hours sleep. Or maybe they are so worried about their ageing parents they didn't sleep a wink last night. Or maybe they are fighting debilitating addictions and are doing the very best they can.
How dare that holier than thou woman who is supposed to be a role model for all the children in her charge stand up and rain down her judgement.
I have struggled with depression. Still do. I struggle with anxiety every single moment of my waking life. I don't sleep well. I am a big fan of slippers and pyjamas. There are many mornings where I forget to put on shoes when I leave the house. Or decide it doesn't really matter what shoes I wear. There are many a morning where I wear my pyjamas on the school run. Go on judge me, if you want.
But let me tell you this: I live for my children. I would die for them. One of the reasons I am in the state that I am is that I refused to give up fighting to give them the life I always dreamt of giving them until it almost killed me. Literally.
In my pyjamas and my slippers I am doing a whole hell of a lot better teaching my children than this headmistress is at teaching her children. What am I teaching them?
I am teaching them that it doesn't matter what a person wears or looks like. You don't judge a book by their cover. It is what is inside their heart and their head that matters.
I am teaching them that you don't judge at all. Ever. You have no right to judge anyone. Ever.
Work hard. Learn lots. Be grateful. Be kind. Be honest.
What should this headmistress be teaching?
Reading. Writing. Arithmetic. History. Science. Geography.
Instead she is blaming the parents for not getting dressed to her satisfaction. She is teaching them that there is always someone's shortcoming to blame for your failures.
I think this headmistress needs to learn a few lessons herself. In the meantime I may never get dressed again.
1 comment:
I love your thoughts on this LaDawn!
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