I hope this email finds you well,” I read, and I look around, wondering. This is where it finds me, sneaking a look at my phone while crouched on the fire escape at my son’s new nursery, where I am in day two of his “settling in” period. For those who are not familiar with the way of the nursery, this is the week in which a carer accompanies their child until they feel comfortable to run off and play alone.
It begins with the adult following them around: sandpit, wendy house, Play-Doh, little sit down, no, get up, trains, etc. The day before, my mum had half told me, from the kitchen, about the Hawthorne Effect, which I gathered, from the hallway, describes the way people perform differently when they know they’re being observed, and the phrase rattled around in my head as I enthusiastically crouched down among the dinosaurs, aware of the other adults who appeared to be nonchalant. I was trying to play really well, I realised – to be the best at playing. I had to go inside for a bit and have a word with myself. I was, and not for the first time, envious of the toddlers who are allowed to simply whiz around a space singing Single Ladies, and, if another child approaches when they’re not ready to talk, find it acceptable to simply say NOPE and keep on whizzing.
