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As a preschool teacher, I've seen kids show up in everything. Superman costumes in January, flip-flops in snow, backwards overalls. Usually I just smile and help them get comfortable.
But Mrs. Chen was different. Every morning, her four-year-old daughter Lily arrived looking like a tiny fashion model. Designer dresses, patent leather shoes, hair in perfect curls with matching ribbons.
Lily couldn't sit criss-cross without her dress riding up. She couldn't finger paint without crying about her sleeves. During outdoor time, she'd just stand by the fence watching other kids play.
"My dress will get dirty," she'd whisper when I encouraged her to join the sandbox.
The first red flag came during parent conferences. Mrs. Chen handed me a folder of professional photos. "These are for Lily's modeling portfolio. She has three auditions this month."
I stared at glossy headshots of a four-year-old posed like an adult model.
"That's why her appearance is so important. Agents notice these things."
Then came the makeup incident. Lily arrived with lipgloss, blush, and mascara. When I asked about it, Mrs. Chen said it was "practice for her headshots."
The breaking point was the diet restrictions. Mrs. Chen started packing Lily lunches with just celery sticks and water.
"She needs to maintain her figure for casting calls," she told me when I expressed concern.
I watched Lily stare longingly at other kids' sandwiches during lunch. When she asked for a bite of Emma's goldfish crackers, I let her have some.
That afternoon, Mrs. Chen received a call from the modeling agency. Lily had been dropped from their roster for "unprofessional behavior" at a recent shoot.
Apparently, Lily had cried during the photo session and refused to pose when the photographer asked her to look "sad and hungry."
Mrs. Chen was devastated. "Do you know how hard it is to get representation? She threw away a career!"
The next Tuesday, Mrs. Chen stormed in during pickup, furious. Lily had a small grass stain on her white tights from sitting during story time.
"How do you expect her to learn proper behavior if you let her ruin her clothes?" she demanded.
I gently suggested maybe sending Lily in play clothes. Mrs. Chen's eyes narrowed.
"Lily needs to learn that appearance matters. These other children look like they got dressed in the dark."
That hurt. I looked around at my kids - Jake in his dinosaur shirt, Emma with paint under her fingernails, Marcus whose mom was working two jobs and doing her best.
Then Mrs. Chen revealed her real plan. She'd enrolled Lily in a different preschool that specialized in "pageant preparation."
"They understand that some children are destined for greater things," she said coldly.
The pageant school required two weeks notice. Until then, she handed me an even stricter list: No outdoor play. No art activities. Lily was to spend recess practicing "poses and expressions."
I watched Lily become more withdrawn each day. She stopped talking to other children, carefully arranging her dress so it wouldn't wrinkle.
The worst part came when I overheard Lily talking to herself during quiet time. She was practicing poses in the mirror, repeating "smile pretty" and "don't eat too much."
A four-year-old obsessing about her weight.
While cleaning Lily's cubby, I discovered a crumpled drawing tucked behind her lunch box. Instead of a happy stick figure, Lily had drawn herself with tears and the words "I want to play" in shaky handwriting.
She'd hidden her own cry for help.
The next morning, Lily showed up in a $200 white dress with a note pinned to it: "DO NOT ALLOW OUTDOOR PLAY OR MESSY ACTIVITIES."
I'd had enough. I called my director, then gently removed the note.
"Lily, sweetie, want to help me water the plants?"
For the first time all year, I watched that little girl get dirty. She squealed with joy touching wet soil, giggling as water dripped on her shoes.
Mrs. Chen arrived early and saw Lily covered in mud, laughing harder than I'd ever heard.
"What have you done to my daughter?"
"I let her be four years old," I said calmly.
Mrs. Chen yanked Lily away, threatening to report me.
The next week, Lily started at a different school.