A child called me "Grandma"

Without fail in every pre-k class I have ever worked in at some point one or more of the children have called me Dad. Years back when this happened for the first time it made me feel very good, especially considering that the child who said it at the time did not have another person in their life who they were calling “Dad.” I felt that in whatever limited way I was fulfilling that role for them, and it made me feel pretty important.  It was something I really needed to hear, because I was struggling with working with young children. I was feeling rather uncomfortable being a male in the field. At that early point in my career I had already had one colleague and a few parents let me know that “Men should not work with children” and to be honest I wasn’t yet one hundred percent convinced that they were wrong.

The day I was first called “Mom” by a child in my class I was honestly a bit flabbergasted. Hmmmm… “Mom.” I did not quite know how to interpret that. It was different for me to hear a child call me “Mom” than it was “Dad.”  Was this child letting me know in a “kids-say-the-craziest-thing” way that they thought I was effeminate? I knew the child lived with their mother, so it was not like I was a fulfilling a need to have a mother-like figure in their life. I don’t even think the child realized that they had called me Mom and I wasn’t ready to bring it to their attention to discuss the reasons why.  I just tried not thinking about it and my unenlightened male ego hoped that no one would make that mistake again.

A few months later, I was working with a girl on a big puzzle. At one point I asked her to look for some particular pieces of the puzzle. After a few moments she exclaimed, “Look! Grandma I found one!” She stopped herself and looked up at me. From the look on her face I could tell she realized she called me “Grandma.” She blushed. I blushed. I tried to make light of the situation and stood up, put my hands on my hips, and jokingly said, “What part of me reminds you of your Grandma?” We both laughed and continued working on the puzzle with no further discussion.

That night after a long motorcycle ride, I was sitting listening to the baseball game on the radio while I was working on my motorcycle. Sitting there, I thought about the girl calling me “Grandma.” It hit me suddenly, she didn’t call me “Grandma” because I reminded her of her Grandmother. She called me that because she was feeling the way she felt when she was with her grandmother and that, from what I could tell, was a very safe and happy feeling. It made me think of the time I was called Mom. That child was feeling the way they felt when they were with her. This revelation made me feel validated. From then on whenever a child called me Dad, Mom, Grandma, Uncle, or whatever familiar title, I knew that child trusted me and felt safe. I knew I was doing a good job as my role as their teacher.

I child called me “Mom” yesterday. I felt happy.