Oh, boy
I just yelled at and hung up on a municipal daycare center worker. I'm still a little shaken up. And thinking to myself, "this would not have happened in California."
JB and I have both noticed that Jacques lights up around other kids and babies his age, actually interacts and wants to socialise, in his toddler way. Now that he's walking strongly, saying a few words, and starting to get his solids on, we thought it would be the right time for him to spend a couple of hours during the week at a neighborhood daycare.
So, after doing some research on nearby institutions, we found one that accepts kids for part-time working moms. This morning, Jacques on my hip, caffeine in effect, I naively dialed up the Jolimont daycare office to find out how to get Jacques a slot. Erreur. After politely asking what steps were necessary for enrolling my 13 month-old, the woman on the other line, presumably well-versed in this dialogue, asked me "what are you looking for?"
I apologized for not being clear (although felt that my question was pretty standard) and repeated my question, "How does one go about enrolling a child in your daycare? Are there forms? Can I pick them up? Is there a waiting list?" To which she sighed exasperatedly, asked another version of the same question with impatience. "Perhaps I'm not understanding the question?" I offered, when I wasn't sure if she was asking me when I wanted to pick up forms or when I wanted to enroll Jacques. She barked, "When do you want to enroll him?"
Then I lost my cool. "DO NOT take that tone with me! I called with a simple question : what do I need to do to enroll my son in your daycare? (at this point she interrupted me, "Non mais, you can't just stop by, there's a waiting list, blah blah blah." I'm not sure what followed, because this is when I started yelling.) "Listen, I am not French, and not familiar w/ the system here. You have been nothing but rude and unhelpful. If this is the way your daycare treats parents, then I won't be bringing my kid there. Thank you so much for your help." Click.
I'm not a confrontational person. When dealing w/ French "civil" servants (irony, anyone?), I usually quickly quit the scene when I sense a professional jerk. But this arena feels different to me. My expectations of a daycare are higher than those of a post office or even a city hall. We as parents and educators of children have a duty - don't we?? - to be at the very least polite to one another. Otherwise, what will our children reflect back to us and others? I doubt she feels any sense of responsibility for the aggressive exchange, but at least I was honest.
Yeah. It needed to happen. Cathartic, even. I guess. It felt good not to accept her unacceptableness, but this shit wears me out. And like I mentioned earlier, makes me long for easy exchanges in my native language, with my native peeps.
JB and I have both noticed that Jacques lights up around other kids and babies his age, actually interacts and wants to socialise, in his toddler way. Now that he's walking strongly, saying a few words, and starting to get his solids on, we thought it would be the right time for him to spend a couple of hours during the week at a neighborhood daycare.
So, after doing some research on nearby institutions, we found one that accepts kids for part-time working moms. This morning, Jacques on my hip, caffeine in effect, I naively dialed up the Jolimont daycare office to find out how to get Jacques a slot. Erreur. After politely asking what steps were necessary for enrolling my 13 month-old, the woman on the other line, presumably well-versed in this dialogue, asked me "what are you looking for?"
I apologized for not being clear (although felt that my question was pretty standard) and repeated my question, "How does one go about enrolling a child in your daycare? Are there forms? Can I pick them up? Is there a waiting list?" To which she sighed exasperatedly, asked another version of the same question with impatience. "Perhaps I'm not understanding the question?" I offered, when I wasn't sure if she was asking me when I wanted to pick up forms or when I wanted to enroll Jacques. She barked, "When do you want to enroll him?"
Then I lost my cool. "DO NOT take that tone with me! I called with a simple question : what do I need to do to enroll my son in your daycare? (at this point she interrupted me, "Non mais, you can't just stop by, there's a waiting list, blah blah blah." I'm not sure what followed, because this is when I started yelling.) "Listen, I am not French, and not familiar w/ the system here. You have been nothing but rude and unhelpful. If this is the way your daycare treats parents, then I won't be bringing my kid there. Thank you so much for your help." Click.
I'm not a confrontational person. When dealing w/ French "civil" servants (irony, anyone?), I usually quickly quit the scene when I sense a professional jerk. But this arena feels different to me. My expectations of a daycare are higher than those of a post office or even a city hall. We as parents and educators of children have a duty - don't we?? - to be at the very least polite to one another. Otherwise, what will our children reflect back to us and others? I doubt she feels any sense of responsibility for the aggressive exchange, but at least I was honest.
Yeah. It needed to happen. Cathartic, even. I guess. It felt good not to accept her unacceptableness, but this shit wears me out. And like I mentioned earlier, makes me long for easy exchanges in my native language, with my native peeps.
Comments
Scary. But yes, probably a necessary evil.