Transitions, or the Spaces In Between

I was child who had a rough time with transitions. Especially goodbyes. When summer rolled around, my parents felt they needed to send me away from Los Angeles, to see other parts of the world and live different experiences. My mom would take me to the airport and get me and my bags checked in. In the moments leading up to the goodbye, my stomach would gnaw and twist. Those unsettled feelings had less to do with where I was going; I would worry about that later. It was the goodbye that I couldn't digest.

When it was time to embrace my mom, the tears would flood and sometimes would not stop for hours. Every where I looked in the airport reminded me of the separation. People hugging and kissing hello. Others giving a last tearful embrace. If my plane got delayed, which inevitably happened, I would call my mom sobbing from a pay phone. I didn't care about not taking off on time, and potentially missing my connecting flight. I was still stuck on goodbye. The letting go of her and the people and places I loved. Underlying my sadness was a fear. "What if I never come back?" "What if I never see my mom ever again?"

When I watch kids in their classrooms, how they handle transitions is of primary interest. Those spaces between being one place and another. That awkward time between letting go of one thing and embracing something new. I see it in the way they say goodbye to mom in the morning, and the manner in which they are able to settle down afterwards. Some kids cry intensely at the separation, and sit right down at the art table to work on a project. It is as if they are saying, "That hard moment is over, but now I am ready to be here."

Some kids look away during the goodbye and pretend they don't care. They spend the next few hours bouncing from one thing to the next, poking other children who are concentrating, vying for the teacher's attention. Their body language speaks volumes: "I want to be here but I cannot forget that I am not with my dad."

Some kids say goodbye and hold back tears. They take a seat and watch the other children playing before entering into the classroom. "I'll be ready in a minute. Just give me some space."

Hello at the end of the day is another big transition. Sometimes the kids with the most difficult goodbyes have the hardest time saying hello. They ignore their parents or run from them. "I finally got used to being without you, and now it's time to go."

Some kids cry at the relief of it, as if they had been holding their breath the whole time mom and dad were gone. "Thank goodness you are here! I can finally relax and be myself..."

Other kids don't want to let go of the school day. Going home means dinner time and bed time. They don't want to stop the fun. "Please dad, just 5 more minutes?!?"

A four year old child I was working with was struggling with her parent's divorce, an immensely difficult transition for children. While playing a therapeutic "feelings" game with her, she spontaneously related every emotion on the cards to hellos and goodbyes:

"I am happy when my mom comes to pick me up."

"I am sad when my mom brings me to school."

"I am excited when I see mom's car in the parking lot."

"I am surprised when she comes and picks me up early."

I am disappointed when she gets here late."

Hellos and goodbyes are tough on us all. Comings and goings are difficult for children and adults alike. All transitions represent endings, from smaller transitions (coming into the classroom after outside time, or leaving the house in the morning) to big ones (falling asleep at night or seeing dad off at the airport ). They are metaphors for life's final goodbyes.

If your child is having a hard time with transitions, try and put yourself in their shoes. Ask yourself, "What might my child be fearing?" Reflect on the way you handle your own transitions, from seemingly insignificant ones ("How long does it take me after I get to my office to finally settle down and work? What are my rituals around that?") to larger ones ("How do I manage my own hellos and goodbyes?" "What is it like for me to separate from people that I love?") or ("How easy it it for me to let go of the day when it is time to go to sleep?")

If you are looking for ways to support your child's transitions, ask his or her teachers for some suggestions. Invest time in your child's transitions. If morning goodbyes are difficult for them, allow more time so that you do not feel frustrated with your child and make it worse. Don't shy away from your own difficult feelings around separation. Ask yourself, "Are there emotions or sensations that I am experiencing that might be making this process worse?"

If you need help navigating transitions (bedtime, drop offs and pick ups, getting out of the house in the morning), or you child's transitions have suddenly become inflexibile or marked by intense hardship or strife, seek consultation from a school psychologist, early childhood mental health consultant, or private mental health professional. This is an indication that your child (or you) needs support.

We cannot take the pain of goodbye away from children, but we can support their emotional openness and flexibility to all of life's experiences, positive and negative. This will help them develop resiliency for the many difficult hellos and goodbyes to come.