There was a day – I picked him up from kindergarten, and the teacher told me that he had pushed a friend, causing a small bloody scar on his friend’s head. It wasn’t serious, but still.
I didn’t scold him, but raised my eyebrows slightly and asked him softly why he did it. He kept silent, which felt a bit strange since he normally wouldn’t act like that. I didn’t want to investigate further at school since it didn’t seem serious to the teachers.

On the way back home, I asked him nicely:

– “Did you hurt your friend, Nasa?”
– “No, I didn’t.”
– “Even if you did, I wouldn’t scold you. However, if you did and don’t admit it, that’s even worse. We teach you not to hurt others, remember?”
– “I didn’t hurt him. I told the teacher, but the teacher didn’t TRUST me. And I cried a lot.”
– “I trust you, son.”

Really! When he said the teacher didn’t trust him, I held my breath for a moment. There was a moment when I trusted the teacher instead of trusting him, wasn’t there? I felt something was off. Normally, if he does something wrong, he just admits it. But this time, he was silent when the teacher mentioned it. And it hurt me to realize I might not have trusted my son.

Later, I talked to my mom because I still had trust in my son. We agreed that I should talk to the teacher again. Even though it was a small injury and the issue seemed solved, it was still an unsolved story for my son, and I didn’t want him to grow up with that feeling. So I texted the teacher and asked her to review the camera, because I wanted to get fairness for my son if he hadn’t done it. And if he did and didn’t admit it, then I would need to talk to him again.

Thirty minutes later, the teacher admitted it was their mistake…. She apologized and said they hadn’t seen my son push his friend with their own eyes — another child had done it. My son just happened to be standing next to the injured friend, so the friend pointed at him, and the teachers assumed he was responsible.

I felt so bad… I had trusted my son, but in my thoughts, there was still a moment when I believed the teacher’s version instead. I know that happens a lot in our culture and education system — I myself experienced it many times. Sometimes, adults say things without thinking about the consequences, don’t they? If I hadn’t investigated further, my son might have grown up believing that teachers don’t trust him, and teachers might have kept thinking he was a bully.

After receiving the teachers’ apology, I told my son that the teachers trusted him now. The next morning, when I dropped him off, I talked to the teachers once more. Of course, I didn’t want to make a big drama, so I gently explained how my son felt about trust — and how much it means to a child when their teachers believe them. I think the teachers got the message.

That night, when I came home — before our regular hugs — my son ran to me and said happily, “Mommy, the teachers trust me already!”

A four-year-old child needs our trust. I keep reminding myself of that. I know I’m not a perfect mother; I can be harsh on myself and on him. But I try to be a better mom every day.
I’m proud of not getting angry when I received the complaint.
I’m proud for fighting for my son’s fairness.
I’m proud for making him smile again and believe in trust.

Love!