I’m a Spanish teacher and I don’t correct my bilingual children when they make a language mistake.Īsk any language professional and they will *most* often agree - flat out correction with children learning another language isn’t the best way to do it. At least with me you don’t ♥️ and I have a special place in my heart both as a teacher who loves children like yours and as a parent to my own rebellious mess-makers. So I guess all I’m trying to say is, you don’t need to apologize for having kids who are different or who don’t fit. My blog is for the parents and caregivers trying to keep up □ and bring Spanish into that beautiful and challenging parenting experience. My podcast is for those who look at the world and see equal beauty in a sunset and a mudpie. The kids that question, wonder, get messy, feel deeply, and live their lives boldly. My Spanish courses are written just for them, the kids that don’t fit in the box. If you’re a parent or caregiver to these wondrous change makers, you aren’t just welcome here, you’re celebrated. I want the mess makers and trouble makers and the kids who dare to be different. So, here is my call, I want the wild-ones. We need to feel guilty if our kids don’t fit in a box. We’re made to feel like bad parents for not controlling their existence completely. I’m realizing more and more that parents in the US are conditioned to apologize for their kids behaving like kids. I love that my kids feel deeply and are courageous enough to express their emotions, I love that my children can move their bodies, and I especially love that they want to go outside and play freely. I’m not actually sorry for any of those things. Am I though? Sorry they’re muddy and want to roll around in the dirt. Am I though? Sorry they can’t sit still right now. Now I have my own very free-spirited children and I find myself at times feeling the need to apologize to people for the silliest things. Those are the kids I became a teacher for, so they could have someone to love them and help them become more than they were labeled to be. The ones who didn’t quite fit, who asked too many questions, who needed someone to give them a chance, the kids who pushed boundaries and moved around “too” much and who just needed someone to see them as a person and not a grade. I became a teacher because I loved the “difficult” ones.
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