A 9-year-old boy in Staten Island, NY, was nearly suspended Tuesday after he brought a 2-inch Lego toy gun to school. According to reports, the fourth grader was playing with a Lego police officer and the tiny gun in the school cafeteria when he was taken to the principal's office. The principal called the parents, and after meeting with them, decided not to suspend the child.
His parents say their son, a good student who loved school, was frightened and upset by the incident, and became reluctant to go back to school because he was afraid that the principal was angry with him. They are reportedly outraged over what they see as a lack of common sense.
As a mom of an 8-year-old boy who absolutely loves Legos, I can totally relate to the dismay that these parents feel. While I can see the merit of having rules banning toy guns -- or for that matter, any kind of toy weapons -- from school, I fail to see why a 2-inch Lego toy gun would warrant a consideration of suspension. Couldn't the principal have just asked the child to put it away and discuss the matter with his parents at a later time? (Apparently, the boy's friend also had a Lego guy, but his accessory was a teeny ax instead of a teeny gun; that child was not taken to the principal's office.)
This could easily have been my child, who stages nearly daily battles between good and evil with tiny Lego lightsabers and blasters and Jedi knights and stormtroopers. He doesn't bring toys of any kind to school (students are not allowed to do so), but if his school did allow toys, I cannot imagine that he would be threatened with suspension and made to cry over a 2-inch laser blaster.
What do you think? Was this a case of punishment meeting the crime or an overzealous administrator lacking common sense?
Some school staff just don’t have any sense (like adults everywhere). My shy and well-behaved second-grade daughter was recently sent to the office for the crime of whispering while waiting for me to pick her up. (After school is dismissed, car riders wait together in a large group in the school cafeteria–and quiet is key, for they are listening for their name to be called to step out to the curb when their car pulls up.) My daughter had just been greeted by a beloved kindergarten teacher, and was whispering to the girl next to her, “That was my kindergarten teacher!” For this offense, a stern proctor ordered her to the office–and when she froze in shocked surprise, the woman hollered, “To the office! NOW!” I found her there 10 minutes later, still sobbing. And we want them to love school!