However, the flip side of this language knowledge is a never-ending flow of tuition masters and ma'ams who just keep quitting as he settles into learning with them. Home tutors are a dying trade, unlike when I was in school and college.
My life's greatest dilemma is no longer weight loss, perimenopause, going to the office and so on. It is finding the right tutors for my son.
Schools are aggressively competitive now, at such a tender age of six and upwards. Children compare marks, teachers pass remarks and, altogether, it's a daily circus that both parent and child have to deal with every single day for the next decade. It's a nightmare beyond the worst nightmares.
At this point, I'm half willing to listen to him and pull him out of school, or let him be an electronics teacher, as he says he wants to be. Plumbers and electricians in the US are paid as much as corporate workers in India. I'm tempted to let him drop out of school, but the good little Indian mommy in me disagrees. Sigh!
In the battle of brain versus heart, the brain wins this round hands down. So, while I'm filled with joy listening to my boy sing “Thalapathi Kacheri”, I'm also anxious that he continues to learn languages with the same energy and gusto, regardless of the cacophony of tutors who walk in and out of his life.
Each time a good one quits, his little heart breaks, and mine breaks along with his.
Life indeed is hard for a seven-year-old today.
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