The Long Walk to School

Ian and I got an early start for school this morning. With little dog pulling us to every tree and mailbox within a half mile of home, we made it to the street corner by the school in record time.

Instead of walking him to the building today, I asked if he could make it by himself from where we stood at the 3-way intersection. He said he yes, and as he took a step into the street, he looked over his shoulder at me and began our "good-bye" ritual ... just as a car was turning left into his path. Fortunately, the driver stopped in plenty of time. Ian was oblivious.

This is just one of the many reasons I cannot let him walk to school alone.  There are too many distractions that prevent him from focusing on the dangers that are so near he could touch them.  Some might say it is a lack of common sense.  That might be part of it, but I think it has much more to do with his inability to multi-task.  He can't cross the street, say good-bye to me, and remember where he is heading if he also has to worry about what "might" happen (even though being hit by a car is a very real possibility).  Prioritizing the dangers is next to impossible for him.

He continued to walk along the sidewalk that borders the street for about 100 feet. Where he should have turned along the circle drive toward the school, he continued along his straight path. I watched until I could no longer see him between all the cars. At that point I realized he might walk right past the school and into the park if I didn't redirect him.

So, little dog and I zig-zagged between moving cars and bolted across the lawn in front of the school, through the creeping carpool line and down the middle of the visitor parking lot until I could see him again. As Ian neared the bike racks, he turned right, and began following other students toward the building. When the bell rang, he followed the crowd inside, never noticing that I was less than 50 feet away.

It wasn't that he was lost. Perhaps a little uncertain of the many possible paths he could have taken to reach the school entrance is more likely the explanation for his chosen route.  He simply walked the same direction to the point at which I have been dropping him off when I drive him to school. It probably didn't occur to him that he might arrive sooner if he went a different way.  Familiarity guides so many of his decisions. Stay with what you know, because that works.

I have wondered for a couple of years how long it will take Ian to learn the way to school well enough that he can do it on his own. We will probably have to practice the same route over and over, a hundred times at least, before he feels comfortable doing it alone.