Playground Education

We’ve been spending a lot more time outside lately (hooray!) and I feel like I am getting a cultural education about playground ethics.

One day, for example, we went to the playground in our complex, and Katie saw some of her kindergarten classmates (two girls and a boy). They decided to have a race. Now, what happens next I didn’t actually witness, but this is what I think happened. During one of the races, Katie was actually beating the boy, and so he nudged/pushed her, and she fell down pretty hard (hit both sides of her head, had a massive ugly goose egg right above her eye, and of course, cried hysterically, part pain, part embarrassment). This situation could’ve happened anywhere in the world; kids are kids. What happened next though is the part that interests me. I’m not sure if the boy’s parents were there or not, but I think one of the other kid’s parents attempted to confront him about what he did--to no avail.  There was never any apology from the boy or acknowledgement that he had done anything wrong. No one (except for me, of course) stepped forward to comfort Katie or ask if she was okay. They all just kind of seemed to ignore that it happened at all.

Because I’ve never parented school-aged kids in America, it’s hard for me to know how much of what happened says something about Chinese culture or whether this kind of scene could just as likely have occurred in the States. Did no one say anything because they felt that saying sometime would've caused Katie to lose more face?  Did the boy not apologize because it would've caused him to lose face?  I don't know. 

I imagine that it’s possible that the same kind of thing could've happened in the States, but I also feel that, even among non-Christian parents in American, there is an agreement about certain playground rules--saying sorry, asking people if they're okay, etc.  Any thoughts from folks back in the States or from those raising kids here in the East?

Similarly, another day we were at the playground (which, by the way, has only two swings for a complex that has literally hundreds of children), Katie was using one swing, and Caroline was (impatiently) waiting for her to get off so she could have a turn. Right as Katie got off the swing, a boy about 4 years old swooped in and got on. Caroline had clearly been waiting to get on the swing, so I gently confronted the boy about it. I said, “I’m sorry, but she has been waiting. It is her turn.” He just stared at me and continued to swing.  It was not a language problem. I had said it somewhat loudly, so that the other people on the playground would hear me, hoping to either shame him into doing the right thing or hoping whatever adult with supervising him would intervene. Neither happened, so I felt compelled to provide some moral instruction. I told him, “You are not being very friendly or polite.” He continued to swing. I was not going to give up. I continued to hold Caroline (who, of course, was crying) and wait right beside the swing.  A battle of the wills ensued.  Finally, after 4 minutes (which to Caroline felt like an eternity), he got bored and got off. In the meantime, Caroline and I had a good conversation about how the boy probably did not know Jesus and so did not know how to be kind to other children. We talked about how we need to forgive him and pray for him (I said it all in Chinese in hopes of continuing his education).

Have I just been spoiled in that most of my children’s playmates up to this point have come from Christian homes or at least homes where the parents consider moral instruction to be an important part of their job? I'm interested in learning more about what kind (if any) moral instruction/character-training happens in Chinese homes. 

I’m think part of my recent sensitivity about these events has to do with coming to grips with the fact that my children are going to get hurt by other kids (and let’s be honest, they’re going to hurt other kids too, it goes both ways). My heart has broken a couple of times when I’ve watched as Katie spotted some classmates outside.  Her face has lit up as she waves and says hello to them. Then I watch as her face falls when they look at her and completely ignore her. It scares me to think that I won’t be able to protect her if she goes full-time to a Chines primary school in the fall. Ultimately it comes down to trust—do I trust that God is sovereign over the things that happen to my child and is able to redeem them for good?

There's a really good chapter in that book Sacred Parenting about this very thing.  The chapter is called Vicious Vulnerability: How parenting confronts cowardice and builds courage.  I'll admit it—this is hard for me. And especially in parenting overseas where the stakes seem higher somehow.  Where is the line between being wisely cautious and protective and being fearful and selfish?  I'm open for answers, people!

One last story from the playground.  This one did not involve by my children, but still broke my heart as if it had.  The primary school in our neighborhood had just let out, and one the far end of the playground I saw some boys (looked about 5th/6th grade) playing together.  I slowly realized that they weren't all really playing together--4 of them had taken the coat of another boy who was trying in vain to get it back as they played a game of "keep away."  I tried to figure out the spirit of the game--was it just in good fun or was this a bullying type of situation?  The mama bear in me wanted to fly over there and lay into the boys who were taking the coat.  While that might have solved the short-term problem, I realized that the boy being picked on probably would not really appreciate the shame of being "rescued" by some foreign chick with bad Chinese.  So I just watched from afar and prayed.  The boy being picked on handled it well, I think.  It eventually dwindled down to just him versus two boys and he was able to finally snatch the coat away when one of them made a bad toss.  I tend to think that it was a bullying type scene because the 4 boys were dressed in more expensive looking clothes and seemed to all live in our complex (which is a higher end place).  The boy whose coat had been stolen look a little more dishevelled and left our complex after the scene, which I assume meant he didn't live here.  I felt a very strong urge to pray for this young man--that God would protect him and bring him to Himself, that He would heal any heart wounds caused by classmates and would make him a strong but tender man of God one day.