#downwithfakes

A few nights ago, I was grudgingly skimming through the its pages, halfheartedly checking for anything that needed to have been completed by the day before. I look wearily at Kyra's to-do list (who are we kidding here) and it was filled with revisions to be done, pages in workbooks that need to be completed, spell checks to go over, review dates and texts to be memorized.. Those who know me, can attest that I am a horror flick junkie but nothing compares to the aforementioned pages; tis as good as having Emily Rose have one of her fits beside you.

The next page is peppered with meal and snack options and corresponding shopping lists. A far more welcomed, even if innately tedious effort. The final pages have remained the same for the past few months. My personal to do list, my unfinished projects, my task list and goals. All put on hold while I put the daily life in order. An uphill, never-ending, not-even-faintly-amusing chore. Manically repetitive, to be caught in one of those daily housework routines are a special type of hell on earth. The ebb and flow of the passing hours eventually marks every day decidedly over and the wretched alarm a few hours later will gleefully remind you nothing you achieved thus far can be brought to the morrow but that most assuredly life will hand you a dastardly clean slate every morning to labour and cuss over.

As I bemoaned my sorry state of affairs and pledged to climb out of this rut and 'simplify' matters (as a recent houseguest sympathetically suggested), my eyes fell upon some scribbles in the margin. I save that spot for tasks from school specifically directed to the parents.

'Submit Olympiads registration form by so-and-so date'.

It was the night before the deadline and as sleep had yet to knock on my doors, I gathered the circular and the Olympiads registration forms. This was the second batch of forms I had received within a span of 6 weeks. Being the type of mom I am, the first I completely failed to look at and missed the deadline for submission altogether. Dont shudder! 'Olympiads' sound so important, one may be forgiven in assuming its significance. Plus, I was very curious. Where I came from I had not heard of Olympiads being conducted for primary school kids.

The registration forms indicated that these competitions were from children in Grade 1 onwards, listed 6 different Olympiads of different subject matters and included an order form for workbooks to be bought and the amount of registration fees to be paid. An online article warned me parents began preparing for Olympiads 4-5 months prior, the organizer's website clearly states it is in the business of "popularizing competition."

The school circular was careful to mention that this was only an opportunity offered to students but ends it with a grave reminder to 'enroll your child for every competitive test being offered in order to equip him/her for the demands of the competitive world today.'

I consulted my dear friend Google and she drew my attention to a pretty recent article in the Times of India, so aptly titled: 'Olympiads: The new status symbol for parents.' Never mind the reiteration that ours is a competition-crazed society, it makes clear these Olympiads were passing-off as the real deal, when it clearly wasn’t for the actual Olympiads are not meant for little children.

At this, my head began to throb. Clearly these so-called Olympiads were created to cater to the demands of vile concepts such as 'early start' and 'future-ready', and to sit squarely in the eye of a competition-storm gathering momentum. Don’t get me wrong. I loved competition. In school, I use to devise, organize and then participate in inter-school competitions when I felt we needed a healthy dose of it. I had jumped at every opportunity to participate in competitive events at the school, district, state, national and even international level and this continued in university. I was naturally drawn to competitions because I was ready to take them on. Even if I wasn’t quite ready, the thrill of participation would keep me going.

But all this did not start for me till I was close to 11 years old.

As it stands, Kyra: i. spends a lot of time trying to get her head around the daily heap of schoolwork; ii. has swimming almost everyday (completely by choice); iii. has tuitions to attend as I am of no help in Hindi and Malayalam; iv. has some amount of screen time only during weekends; v. Has only about 30 mins of playtime in the evenings (for I am a stickler about an early bedtime) vi. plaintively asks me daily why she is just never left to her own devices (read: do absolutely nothing).

It also stands that her mom: i. may not be as far sighted as some parents when it comes to an early start of competitive events but certainly is in no rush to join the fray; ii. appreciates whatever little time there is to spend on herself and is not intending to reduce that in any way; iii. is already overly involved in Kyra's schoolwork which she highly resents and dreads the time Ezra will walk into Grade 1; iv. will be damned if she can get Kyra to sit and pore over workbooks in preparation for these bogus Olympiads.

It could all be very well she decides to participate next year or the year after (or never), but it will not be at my behest. Her decision to compete, if ever, will be respected only if she:

i. can prepare for these on her own with minimal external support; ii. will be able to handle commitments to school, home, family, social activities and still be a happy and sane child; iii. will take some amount of pleasure in preparing for these competitions without an unhealthy focus on winning; iv. displays emotional maturity to handle both wins and losses.

A tall order eh? Thus, it will be my pleasure to redshirt her from the Olympiads this year (and for as long as it takes).

p/s: also for those of you who are like-minded, bring along those forms and we will have a little bonfire replete with wine and hor d'oeuvres.