New Zealand Parenting Diary Day 4 ｜ Three Interesting Phenomena at the School Gate and a Reflection on My "Mistake"!

Today, when I dropped my child off at school, I stood at the school gate for a while and observed some really fun things:

1) Kids Riding Bikes in the Rain;

Some children are dropped off by their parents, but some walk to school by themselves. Today, I saw two kids, about five or six years old, riding their bikes in the rain while wearing shorts;

It's hard to imagine in China, a five or six-year-old riding a bike alone in the rain, with the temperature around 10 degrees Celsius, wearing shorts, and without any parents accompanying them. It was quite a sight:

The key moment was when I saw them riding their bikes across the road, and all the cars behind them stopped to wait for the two little ones to pass. It was really adorable!

When I greeted them at the school gate, they were very happy. I asked them, "How old are you?" and they held up six fingers!

Then I asked them, "Are you happy going to school like this every day?"

They replied, "It's not every day, but we love riding."

Their voices still had that childish tone!

2) Hugs Before Entering;

The school is a church school, so there are children of various skin colors. I noticed that whether they are older kids or younger ones, if their parents drop them off, they usually greet their children with a kiss or a hug at the school gate.

In this regard, Chinese children and parents tend to be a bit more reserved;

3) Parents at the School Gate:

Whether dropping off their children or picking them up after school, many parents greet each other and chat about casual topics.

I listened carefully, and it was mostly about getting to know each other through picking up their kids, but during the conversation, no one talked about how their children were doing in school. Instead, they chatted about things like sports games or interesting happenings nearby;

The school gate is quite interesting and feels very different from the crowded scenes at school gates in China. In China, picking up and dropping off kids can feel quite oppressive, while here, it gives you a sense of relaxation.

Finally, I want to reflect on something worth considering:

We live about three kilometers from the school, and I usually have a habit of walking, so I thought my child could walk with me every day, exercising and enjoying the scenery along the way. The first day went quite smoothly, and I thought there was no problem. On the second day, I just assumed we would walk again.

But as soon as we stepped out, I sensed he was reluctant. After walking less than a few hundred meters, he started saying his legs were sore and that he couldn't walk anymore, his tone full of resistance. I instinctively thought he was being lazy and that it was an attitude problem, so I ignored his feelings and quickened my pace, feeling a bit angry—thinking he wasn't persistent or cooperative, and even a bit sulky, I distanced myself from him.

That evening, I asked him why he didn't want to walk that morning. He said, "I actually didn't want to walk from the beginning. I really felt tired today, but you didn't ask me, you just pulled me along."

At that moment, I suddenly realized that I had been pushing my own rhythm and my own ideas. I thought walking was a good thing, a form of exercise, a way to spend time together, but I overlooked that for him, at that moment, it might have just been pure fatigue, lack of sleep, or simply not wanting to move.

My "persistence" was actually a form of neglect.

I thought "the first day went well" = "we can continue walking," but for a child, the state of the first day does not equal the emotions of the second day. I thought I was exercising with him, but in reality, I was just leading him down my path, forgetting to ask, "Are you okay today?"

So I realized: a child's state changes in real-time, and you can't rely on one success to deduce a continuous and stable "consensus." We often establish patterns too quickly, but children are not machines; they are constantly evolving individuals.

For the child, my judgment at that moment might have been seen as "deliberately dragging" or "not cooperating," but later I realized—that might also be a form of seeking help, a struggle of not yet knowing how to express "I really can't do this today." The children who struggle to express themselves are more likely to convey discomfort through "acting out," "hiding," or "being clingy."

So true companionship is not about reaching a destination together, but about whether we see each other's states along the way.

Perhaps true education is not about shaping children into our ideal selves, but about asking them repeatedly during the journey, "How do you want to walk today?"

And the lesson parents need to learn is to shift from "pulling them along" to "walking together with them," even if the journey is slow or if we stop along the way, as long as we are connected, that is more important than the destination.

免责声明：本文章仅代表作者个人观点，不代表本平台的立场和观点。本文章仅供信息分享，不构成对任何人的任何投资建议。用户与作者之间的任何争议，与本平台无关。如网页中刊载的文章或图片涉及侵权，请提供相关的权利证明和身份证明发送邮件到support@aicoin.com，本平台相关工作人员将会进行核查。