3rd May Thursday : Soccer matches

4th May Friday : Bollywood function for Mrs Scott

7th May Monday :

8th May Tuesday : Extra mural programme begins

9th May Wednesday :

10th May Thursday :

11th May Friday : Slipper Day

: Grade R Mother’s Day Market

: Assembly

14th May Monday : Board meeting

15th May Tuesday :

16th May Wednesday : Evening Talk by Dr Tilly Mortimore

Searching for the hero in your dyslexic child.

17th May Thursday :

18th May Friday : Tuck—Grade 7 : Assembly 12h35

21st May Monday :

22nd May Tuesday :

23rd May Wednesday :

24th May Thursday :

25th May Friday : Tuck—Grade 6 : Assembly 12h35

Uniform Shop Times

Tues—Friday mornings

7:30—8:15 Tues afternoons

12—14:45

Goal Orientation

Dear parents

Tigger, squirrels and things to think about – an ADHD backstory

We all know Tigger. He is the overly exuberant, obliviously happy, irritatingly

irresponsible and often trouble-making tiger friend of Winnie the Pooh. Known for

his bounce, especially into the ‘personal bubble’ of others, he is characterised as

energetic, outgoing, fun-loving and overconfident. He rarely sits still and is always

running, climbing, or fidgeting. Tigger makes bold, audacious statements, proclaim-

ing that he can do anything: “That’s what tiggers do best!" At times, Tigger is fearless, optimistic and

resourceful. Impulsive behaviour, interrupting and intruding are the essence of Tigger’s problems.

Soon after first meeting Pooh in an impulsive visit to the much quoted philosopher’s dwelling, Tigger suddenly

interrupts Pooh, climbs on to the table, wraps himself with the tablecloth and brings everything crashing to the

floor. Tigger accuses the tablecloth of trying to bite him rather than owning his hyperactivity. He appears to have

no sense of fear and certainly little sense of responsibility. His behaviour is sometimes irritating, sometimes

endearing and often times reckless. The stories of the Hundred Ace Wood are rich with examples, like the time

he ascends a high tree with little Roo on his back before determining whether he was able to climb a tree in the

first place. Only when the two get stuck does Tigger realise he has no idea how to climb down – a classic ‘horse

had already bolted the barn’ moment. On another occasion, Tigger grabs Roo’s medicine from Kanga and

swallows it impulsively, almost downing the spoon as well. Dear Tigger never seems to learn from his mistakes,

which frustrates others. Nonetheless, he bounces back from hazardous incidents almost immediately and

demonstrates enviable resilience and grit. There is no doubt that Tigger’s behaviour worries those around him,

some of whom offer misguided but well intended advice. Rabbit boldly asserts that Tigger should be loosed into

the forest, believing that the shock of being lost might cause Tigger to calm down a little on his return. The

strategy backfires, however. You’ll have to read the books to find out how. Let us forgive Rabbit his bizarre

methods and surmise that if Rabbit had access to the DSM-V, he’d likely recognise that this bouncy character is

suffering from ADHD.

Newsletter No. 4 May 2018

To be clear, Tigger doesn’t actually have a diagnosis. There is no mention of a paediatric consultation in the tranquil setting

of the Hundred Acre Wood. However, in our media rich, connected world, Tigger is extensively labelled with the term

“ADHD”. One quick Google search takes a reader straight to him as a prime example, along with dozens of other

celebrities. Most adults and children today have some idea that ADHD references a distracted and/or active person who

may be challenged to regulate their “lively” behaviours and impulsivity to stay focused and on task. Just recently, in a talk

delivered at Bellavista S.H.A.R.E., expert Developmental Paediatrician, Prof Andre Venter, spoke of bringing the diagnosis

“out of closet” in the last twenty years. He is right. There has been a significant breakthrough in acknowledging and naming

Attention Deficit Disorder, recognising it as a reality for some and learning how to manage it. The advances in understand-

ing the condition medically are marked. Treatment options are improving all the time. We know now to treat, and we have

an evolving but better understanding of how. With this, quality of life for those who experience the condition is improved.

With mainstream acceptance of the condition, however, there is arguably a marginalisation of its effect on the individual

and those in their family. Some say they know and understand, but they don’t. Not really. Their partial grasp of the condition

is evidenced in their language. “Look, squirrel!” is a term playfully used when describing someone who, mid-conversation,

leaves the topic at hand to have another thought, or pursue a distraction. Then there are other light-hearted phrases

bandied about, like: “swinging from the chandeliers”, “wild”, “all over the place”, “sixteen tabs open simultaneously”,

“revving” or, “out of his tree”.

Let us really think about what it is to live with Attention Deficit Disorder:

What is it to struggle each day with thoughts that race, ideas that relentlessly torrent through your mind and anxiety

that builds when routine demands overwhelm?

What is it to miss deadline again? And again? And again? Even for the same task!

How is it to experience failing grades when you know your subject, jobs lost because you arrive late every day

despite your best intentions, and relationships failing because you didn’t perceive the value to the other of

remembering an anniversary or birthday, and you forgot it every year?

How does a mother feel when she chases every routine from brushing of teeth to falling asleep (or likely not) to

unpacking bags, every day, all the time, and her child is twenty?

How does a father feel when he gets a call from the school yet again reporting his son’s impulsive misdemeanor or

lack of organisation?

What does it feel like to have a keen mind that chases its interest and soaks up reams of fascinating information, that

most people don’t want to hear about?

How is it to sit behind a desk in a 1mx1m unfenced enclosure in the classroom, concentrating desperately on staying

still while resounding boredom drowns all motivation out?

What is it like when the buzz of the neighbour’s lawnmower is louder than the podcast the teacher prescribed in the

homework task?

How tender is the journey of acceptance that treatment is required if you are to fit into society as it is normed today,

given backpacking in the hills of Knysna is not an economically sustainable option for your lifetime?

What is it like to pursue calm because you can never reach it and yet you crave the stillness that others describe?

How does it feel to find elicit substances available that take you out of the busyness of your brain but they lure you

along an addictive pathway?

How does it feel to commit to treatment and a ritualised lifestyle to find ‘normal’?

What is the crushing depression that sets in when you see the disappointment on the face of someone who you let

down again, although their expectation was so reasonable?

What is it like to be told that a liturgy of famous greats each has ADHD and questioned around such evidence of your

‘brilliance’?

Where did your cute factor go when you’re still living with the impulsivity at age 40, and diagnosis was at age six?

What is it like to teachers to chase for assignments and, on escaping school, SARS just takes on the role looking for

returns?

What is it to apologise more often in a day than hear “well done”?

Likely, none of it feels very good. But we laugh anyway.

We laugh at the jokes about being “scatty”, chuckle at the mayhem and chaos of the morning routines, and smile at the

efforts made. On good days, when the rest of life is not stressful, we embrace it all, even to a level of endearment. On other

days, we cry, alone. Or we rant and vent and blame. We mistakenly blame all manner of moral ills on ADD and we attribute

roaring success to it too, randomly. We even own the condition proudly, “Sorry, its my ADD.” Perhaps, more destructively,

we parade celebrities as being known sufferers, implying, “What’s your problem, then?” to the other 99% regular and never-

to-be-famous members of the population. Iconic life stories offer hope and inspiration on one hand, but crushing pressure

on the other. Truth be told, we don’t know the price of fame - the exchange of the creative brilliance for normal living,

sleep, family, harmony and centeredness perhaps.

Before we speak about someone’s ADD or any other diagnosis publically, including our child’s, we ought to stop and

consider all the questions and challenges above. This is not to say that we shouldn’t laugh, nor is it a suggestion that we

keep the matter closeted. A diagnosis can liberate a person and offer a way forward in lifestyle choices. Laughter helps us

make sense of the condition as it shifts our perspective and reduces any sense of threat. Laughter is invaluable to our

human condition. Humour creates a psychological distance and helps us feel less overwhelmed. Think how quickly memes

and cartoons follow on from apparently tragic or worrying incidents and realities. Humour helps us diffuse conflict. We must

laugh. It is therapeutic. We must diagnose, it is useful. However, when and where and why we laugh as well as who we

laugh with, needs to be sensitively considered. Likewise, for when and where and to whom we disclose a diagnosis.

Certainly, we should be very careful not to laugh at a person nor define him or her with a medical label.

If a child, or even you, has ADHD, the condition must be acknowledged, understood and managed. But more so, the

person who experiences it needs support now and in the long term - committed, loving and unconditional support. Like

Tigger, he or she needs friendship, mentoring, safety, acceptance, recognition and purpose. You may be the person who

offers all this to someone you love or care for. Do it wholeheartedly. Do it informed. And if there are squirrels popping up in

any conversations, take a look! You may be missing out!

Nuts and bolts

Cocurricular

We start with our first soccer fixture this Thursday, 3 May. The balance of the afternoon programme commences on

Tuesday, 8 May. Please ensure the uniform dress code for all winter sports, available at https://bellavista.org.za/uniforms/

Property news

Our court has had fabulous makeover- please respect the surface and avoid walking across it with regular shoes

(especially heels and spikes). We have also installed solar panels to harvest daylight sunshine for use in the school. Whilst

we are not ‘going off the grid’, using energy from sunlight during the day will reduce electricity costs and contribute to

environmental sustainability positively. We look forward to teaching the children a little about the solar option as we go

forward.

Staff matters

Welcome back to Mrs Allan who returned right at the end of last term from maternity leave.

Tuck

To ensure accurate provision and no wastage, we are implementing a slight change to the order system for tuck. All orders

for prepared food (hotdogs, soup etc.) will be collected from the class teacher the day prior to the tuck days, i.e. on a

Monday for Tuesday and on a Wednesday for Thursday. Your child’s class teacher will be reinforcing this new routine.

Bollywood invitation to all our children:

We are looking forward to a wonderful morning celebrating this event.

.

Bellavista School app

We are thrilled to direct you to the Google Play (Android phone) and Apple (IOS) stores to download the Bellavista School

app. From this app, you will be able to:

quickly glance at the calendar;

open calendar items to find out more information (for example, where is the soccer fixture this week? What is in the

cycle test?);

access the uniform shop and use Snapscan;

contact us at the push of a button;

link to the Bellavista Facebook page and the news there;

check school open and closing times;

read the blog (A Beautiful View) while you’re waiting at pick up.

Via the app, we will be able to push information to you, for example, “Soccer team will be back at school at 3:00pm”, or,

“reminder that tomorrow is Bollywood dress up day” and also make calendar changes.

Calendar Term Two

The calendar for Term Two is loaded to the school website – https://bellavista.org.za/calendar-2/ and available to

print or to import to your personal diary as you prefer.

The calendar items on the app can quickly be pushed into your diary item by item, as you wish.

Important dates to diarise ahead:

Bellavista Bash 3 June 2018

The midterm break is 22 June – 9 July as per previous notices. Please note that there will be a holiday club

from 2 – 6 July for interested parents.

Bellavista S.H.A.R.E.

Reminder for the talk scheduled for the 16th May in the school hall, 19h00-20h00: Dr Tilly Mortimore on Searching for the

Hero in your Dyslexic Adolescent. Please visit the Bellavista S.H.A.R.E. website to make your booking.

Enjoy the week and the term ahead.

Alison Scott

Principal