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Article: A-Dad-Reflects-on-Choosing-Separate-Classrooms-for-His-Twins
One afternoon about six years ago, Hallie, the second of our four daughters and also a twin, decided she had had enough crawling and stood up to walk. Down the hallway she went, teetering like she had had one too many drinks, determined to get to the end. She made it about halfway and plopped down, apparently satisfied with her short journey, then looked up at the cheering audience and smiled. That’s when Liza, her older (by 11 minutes) identical twin sister decided it was her turn. And off she went.
That’s how Liza and Hallie have done things since birth. They rolled over, crawled, walked and even got their first tooth all within minutes of each other. They’ve taken turns being the "first" on the physical milestones as well as in other ways. Maybe Liza will like art for a few weeks and then it’s Hallie’s turn. That’s when Liza decides she wants to do what Hallie was interested in – maybe dressing up or playing soccer.
But whether it’s something social, academic or physical, they’re never too far from each other when it comes to the way their minds work. They’re 7 now, and they’ve never been more than 1/2 pound different in weight or 1/2 inch in height. And they’ve always been each other’s best friends.
They started preschool together two mornings a week when they were 2, then three times a week when they were 3, always in the same classroom. But when they turned 4, my wife and I decided it was time to consider placing them in separate classrooms. The preschool they attended doesn’t have a separation policy for twins but we felt it was time for Liza and Hallie to grow more independent of each other. And despite dressing them differently from an early age, many people still got them confused since they looked so much alike. We wanted to make sure that others got to know them as the individuals that we knew they were.
As expected, this wasn’t the kind of decision you make without a lot of thought. Even though we thought it was what we wanted to do, we still needed reassurance. We talked with other parents of twins, various teachers and school administrators. All advice was mulled over, discussed, even dreamed about, for days and nights. We weighed the pros and cons – how the girls would grow accustomed to being around other children without each other. We wondered how their teachers might handle them when they missed each other. But mostly, we worried about how Liza and Hallie would become acclimated to being on their own for the first time.
Separation anxiety usually refers to a child’s fear at being separated from their mother, father or caretaker. But we were dealing with something else here. Being a father of twins, I watch my girls closely, and I can see their bond together is unique and special. It seems like a connection that’s just as strong, although different, as a mother and child’s relationship. It’s a strong tie that transcends everything Liza and Hallie have experienced so far in their young lives. It seems to me that unless you’re a twin, the dynamics of this kind of separation don’t register, nor do we, their own parents, entirely comprehend it.
One night, all this hemming and hawing found its way into our dinner conversation. One of the girls casually asked, "But won’t we see each other on the playground every day?" "Yes, you probably will," we said. "And she’ll be right across the hall, right?" the other one asked. "Yes, you’ll be very near each other," I said. "OK. That’s OK." There was a pause. Now they finally understood. It had gotten to them, I felt sure. That they were going to be separated when school started had dawned on them. I expected immediate sadness, probably even tears. I waited.
"I don’t like these peas," said Liza, pushing her plate away. "Me either," said Hallie. That’s when we realized we were letting this decision get to us, and I began to wonder who was really having the separation anxiety here?
When that first day of school arrived, Liza and Hallie weren’t so bothered about being left behind by Mom and Dad. That had happened before. But you could see a glimpse of fear on their faces when they had to walk into separate classrooms and be apart from their best friend, the one person in their short-lived lives who had always been with them.
But from that point forward, they began to develop their own friendships and interests, and people began to see them individually, not just as a unit. Each girl began to have "ownership" of her own experiences. Hallie might come home one day saying, "In MY class we did this…," and Liza might counter with, "Well in MY class we did this…" Looking back, I know it was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made on their behalf.
Since that event, they’ve remained in separate classrooms but usually right next door or across the hallway from each other. They’ve adjusted and grown but still love to find each other and play together during recess.
And Mom and Dad did survive. Our own anxiety took care of itself as we watched Liza and Hallie, resilient as children are, move into the next phase of their young lives.
Jammy Hokins writes for www.anxietyremedies.info where you can find out more about cheap hotels and other topics. |
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