Making babies

While I was at NYU I had to do some student teaching, I decided to work with my Professor who worked at Allen Stevenson a private boys school in the Upper East Side. It was, and probably still is the most expensive k-9 boys school in NYC. I had met a woman in one of my classes at NYU who taught at Spence, and her experience there was strikingly similar to some of the student issues I had working in some of the most struggling public schools in the Lower East Side. She dealt mostly with girls who had eating disorders- a problem that was simply an epidemic, while my schools problems often had different symptoms the causes were often quite similar. My students' parents were absentee or working so many jobs that they often couldn't provide the sort of encouragement and support that their children thrived with, and the girls at Spence had parent's who worked long hours and didn't exactly become parents to make dinner and tend to the children, they had important jobs and provided their children with the best of everything but themselves.

So I wanted to compliment my dire public school experience with a window into another world, a world with just as many issue and the only access I had to this milieu was through that of teacher. The teachers at any school like Allen Stevenson all say the same thing- rarely do you find a teacher who has the same background as these kids and therefore when we get treated like hired help it comes as an affront. It's not as simple as the children are spoiled, it's that they grow up believing that we are paid to clean up their messes, that's after all our job. While most would find this an outrage, most of us teachers could see that these boys lacked something that most of us had in some form or other- parent's that were around, that cared, that were present and involved. These boys were picked up by a long line of nannies that arrived at 3:15 to gather their brood. Their nannies fed them a snack, dinner and often bathed them. They brought them to school and generally met their emotional and physical needs. We had parent's who were famous movie directors, singers, fashion designers and their kids spent their school vacations in China and skiing in the Alps, nanny in tow of course. For boys they often did not have the masculine confidence that boys in public school do, in classes of only ten, half of them vied for attention and the other half were sort of weak and sad, they were all geeky and scared. Some had never taken the subway, and many did not leave their neighborhoods, they had the same misconceptions of New York as foreigners did, that beyond the limits of the UES you might get shot, or worse- either way, they knew they were not equipped with the survival skills to survive and prosper outside of their bubble of wealth.

Paris is full of wealthy people but being a nanny is maybe even more of a norm than in the states. Before moving to France I knew that workers got something like 6 weeks of vacation every year. As a teacher this hardly meant much because so do I, but it was a significant shift in American mentality where we often live to work instead of work to live. I pitied Americans whom were such workaholics that they would amass these ridiculous hoards of money, buy lots of "toys" and then when it came to enjoying their wealth they couldn't sit still and relax. They had issues like high blood pressure, problems with their weight, and unlike the French, they don't know how to appreciate a long meal and good conversation. But then I got here and I realized that everyone works massively long hours. Sylvain works from 9-730, thus with his commute he ends up having a 12 hour day. All of the nanny jobs I've applied or interviewed for reflect a similar schedule- so it begs me to ask- how do any of these people know their kids- the only time they'd have a chance to see them is on the weekends and school holidays. I don't care how long your vacation is, I think there is something wonky about not sharing a meal with your kids- after all why did you have them if it was just to offer room and board?

I'm not so idealistic I expect every family to share dinner together every night, but if not dinner, then something. I spent a few hours with a nanny yesterday who said, Oh the mother usually likes to read them their bedtime stories, but she doesn't go in for the cooking, getting them ready, feeding them or their baths and all that stuff. When did motherhood get whittled down to a ten minute bedtime story and a few kisses coming and going?