LifeInBitesAndBytes

From “Do I have to go to school, Amma?” to “I am ready before the alarm!”

One month ago, we enrolled our son in his first Canadian school here in Ontario. Yesterday, we attended our first Open House and honestly, I left with full eyes, a full heart and the glorious realization that I no longer need to wake up at 4:30 am. Yes, you read that right. In Sri Lanka, my alarm screamed at 4:30 am. every single day just to get my kids ready, fed, and out the door in time for school. Here? Elementary school starts at 9:15 am. and ends at 3:30 pm. High school? Starts earlier at 8:30 am. and ends at 2:30 pm.

At first, I thought it was just a quirky schedule. Then I realized. It is intentional. If parents are working or unavailable, older siblings can actually pick up their younger brothers or sisters after their own school day ends. It is a small detail but it speaks volumes about how this system is designed with families in mind, not just institutions. And for me? Waking up at 7 am. instead of 4:30 feels like winning the parenting lottery.

But back to Open House because that is where the real magic happened.
Our son proudly led us through his classroom like a tiny CEO of his own learning journey:
First: Introduce his family to his teacher (yes, even though we have met because he owns this moment).
Then: His desk, where he showed us his work not because we asked, but because he wanted to.
Next: The hallway gallery, each child had drawn their own face and written a little bio. I, of course, picked his instantly. My husband? Picked the one with the biggest smile, which was not ours.

He walked us through his “Smiley Tracker”, his classroom job (Line Leader this week), and even explained what a “normal” school day looks like through his eyes. The highlight? A bar graph titled “What Makes an Ideal Teacher?” Overwhelming answer from 10-year-olds: “Kind” and “Caring.” And when I asked him on Day 1, “Do you like it here better than Sri Lanka?” He said: “I love it here, Amma. The teacher is so kind.” That hit me hard. Back home, school often felt like a place my son endured. He would drag his feet every morning, asking, “Do I have to go?” Here? He wakes up early, on his own, gets dressed without being asked, and runs out the door with his backpack bouncing.

We also visited the gym, library, and music room, where he introduced each specialist teacher and gave them all high-fives. Outside, the school was hosting the Terry Fox Toonie Toss, a fundraiser where anyone can join the run, with or without the T-shirt. No gate keeping. No “you must buy this to belong.” Just community, inclusion, and purpose. It made me to reflect. In Sri Lanka, parents are often expected to run the school, fund it, decorate it, chaperone every trip, even fight for our child’s spot in every activity. Here? Teachers own the classroom. Kids own their learning. Parents? We are partners, not project managers. Do not get me wrong. Sri Lankan teachers work miracles with limited resources. But the system often puts the burden on families in ways that drain joy from childhood. Canada is not perfect, but in this classroom, I saw something powerful, a system that trusts teachers, empowers kids, and respects parents’ time, energy, and humanity. And yes, let us not forget the gift of those extra 2.5 hours of sleep. Because when parents are less exhausted, we show up better for our kids, our work, and our new lives.
To every educator building joyful, kind, student-centered spaces, thank you. You are not just teaching ABCs. You are shaping how a child sees the world. And to my fellow immigrant parents, if your child’s eyes light up when they talk about school and you are finally sleeping past sunrise, you will know you have found something special.