Dear Teacher

Dear Teacher,

I thought I would drop you a little note regarding my little girl. You see she starts school today, so I suppose I am handing part of her over to you. You will recognise Katrina easily. She has lovely dark hair that bounces and shines in the sunlight and a happy laugh that ripples all day long. Oh! And she also has beautiful blue eyes that will capture your heart when she gazes into your face.

A large part of her is slipping away from me this morning. And hand in hand with her mum, trying to look unconcerned, she will walk down the street to her first day at school and I know that never again will she be completely her mum’s and mine.

She will wave a little independent hand as she walks into the school playground. Then when she sees her friends she will leave her mum and run up the path to meet them. I’m afraid gone soon will be the little chatterbox who lived only for play. Now she will learn to stand in line, and wait for her name to be called. She will learn to listen for the sound of the school bells and will learn to smother the giggle and to look at the ceiling of the classroom with apparent disinterest when a little boy across the room sticks out his tongue. She will learn to be jealous and to know how it feels to be hurt deep inside.

Soon she will worry about important things, like grades, what to wear and whose best friend is whose. Now she will worry about the little boy who pulls her hair and which girls like which boys. She will learn the magic of books, the written word, and knowledge that will take the place of the magic of her dolls and playthings.

No doubt she will find new heroes. For the past few years I have been her pal and playmate. When she went to bed, I was her storyteller. I was her Santa Claus and most important her friend and protector that made her feel safe at all times. Now she will learn to share her worship and adoration with others. This is only right, but I guess I’m sad that no longer will I be the smartest, greatest man in her life.

So today when the school bell rings, she will learn what it is to be part of a group, with all its privileges and of course the disadvantages that go along with it. Today she will begin to learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not necessarily her friends and that being part of the in-gang can be demanding.

This morning she will walk down the front path, wave her hand and start out on a great adventure that might take her across continents, across oceans on a lifetime adventure that will probably include wars, many tragedies and sorrow.

She will learn that to live her life in the world she will inherit, will require faith, love and a great deal of courage. So I can only hope you will sort of look after her when I am not around. Take her by the hand and teach her things she will have to know, but please do it gently if you can.

You will have to teach her that all the people she will meet are not just, nor will they be honest. And that the world is not a fair place. Teach her also that, for every liar, there are a thousand truthful people and for every bigot there are thousands of genuine loving people of all colours and ethnic origins. For every crooked politician, there is a dedicated leader and for every enemy there is an abundance of friends.
I know that all this will take time. But teach her if you can to learn how to lose, so that she can enjoy the pleasure of winning that much more. Steer her away from envy and teach her the secret of a quiet knowing smile. Let her learn as soon as possible that in the playground the bully is the coward and the easiest one to beat. And teach her if you can the wonder of books and pictures and sometimes give her the personal space she will need to ponder the eternal mystery of birds on the wing, bees in the sun and the flowers in the fields. To have faith in her own ideas, even if everyone says they are wrong. Teach her to be very gentle with gentle people and very tough with tough people.

Try to instil in her the strength not to follow the mob when everyone else is getting on the bandwagon. To listen to all, but to filter all she hears. Teach her the joy of laughing when she is happy. But tell her how there is no shame in tears when she is sad. Teach her to scoff at cynics and to be wary of too much sweetness. To sell her brains to the highest bidder but never to put a price tag on her feelings. That she should close her ears to a howling mob and to stand and fight for what she believes is right. Tell her that there are times when she must gamble and there are times when she must simply walk away.

So I’ll stand at the window with a lump in my throat, a tear in my eye and watch her go hand in hand with her mum as she starts out on the long journey to become a woman. During the day I will miss my little button. I do hope that you and the world, will treat her well and I am sure she will make us all very proud.
Yours
Her Dad.