My wife and I once visited a kindergarten as part of the series of visits parents must do to choose a school for their children.
The visit went well. We liked the space, the teacher was thoughtful and the general atmosphere seemed fine. We paid the signing fee in order for our daughter to be included in the upcoming year.
At the end of the visit, after saying goodbye and leaving the building, we heard a school assistant berate a child (3 years old). Loudly.
My wife and I stayed silent for a few minutes and on the spot we decided that our daughter wouldn’t join this school. We didn’t tell the owner and the teacher. Maybe we should have. But we had the feeling that this was the old school modus operandi.
Which meant that: to the owner and the teacher, we were just another family that had a change of heart. But in reality they don’t know the true reason of why we gave up on their school. Maybe that assistant was even promoted without the owner ever knowing she lost business because of her.
I think about this moment often. I have the feeling we live surrounded by invisible walls, erected by social decorum or fear or indifference, that block the view. Walls that hide hard truths. And that ultimately keep lessons on the wrong side of the wall.
I wonder what people are not telling me that I should know.