Those of you who read my blog, even infrequently,
have heard stories about my children’s elementary school.
It’s just a mile up the road and we ride our bikes there — even on days like today when the windchill’s in the 20s and we have to wear face masks under our helmets. Mr. Gus-the-Crossing-Guard holds traffic, the kids call out to all their friends, and the bell rings. Which is when the fun begins.
Over the years, my daughters have learned to read there, and to multiply and divide.
They have tie-dyed shirts and baked bread and performed Shakespeare.
They have mastered the monkey bars and met authors and collected Pennies for Peace.
They have walked to the neighborhood nursing home and fire station.
They have written their autobiographies.
They have made friends who speak Spanish and Sign Language.
They have made dioramas and mobiles and iMovies.
They have made music and murals.
They have recycled and composted and gardened.
They have run marathons, one mile at a time.
They have learned in classrooms full of children who are shy, smart, autistic, artistic, enthusiastic, tentative, funny, sensitive, wry. They have learned from teachers who are thoughtful, gutsy, dedicated, creative, resourceful, tender and true.
And we (and by we I mean the collective We, not just my husband and I), we have read aloud in their classrooms and tutored math groups and helped hang art. We have painted walls and repaired fences and planted sage and salvia. We have practiced yoga and re-shelved books and helped keep the lunchroom kind of sane. We have sat on committees and sold pizza and set up movie screens. We have happily, and with deep trust and gratitude, delivered our children here day after day after day. For over 60 years, if you’re really counting the collective We.
And now, thanks to a budget crisis that is part of the larger American economic tumbleweed, our district is threatening to close this school and eight others. They’re threatening to close schools that are public and that work — a two-fer that not many folks even believe in anymore.
There is a firestorm brewing, of course.
There is a petition and a facebook page.
There is a steering committee and a twitter feed.
And there are more than 500 children, at our school alone, who have every right to believe that we’re looking out for them, for their best interests and for their whole selves, because that’s what we as grown-ups promise to do.
Isn’t it?
Oh, no. I’ve read so often your writings about your daughters’ wonderful school (with a twinge of jealousy, I must admit.) Why oh why do they go after what’s not broken?
Why oh why, indeed. Something so befuddling about the whole thing…
Our third (& youngest, at 14) child is applying to go to private school next year. This will end our family’s exodus from a broken public school system. Our elementary school was small, friendly & sweet. Our kids grew up with a strong sense of community. Then, BAM! They dumped all of the elementary schools into one of two huge Middle Schools. The scale was overwhelming & there was nothing sweet or personal about it. (Well, the janitor was very sweet, actually). Bob & I were talking yesterday about what we think is the number one problem in our local public schools: SIZE. They’re too damn big, too damn impersonal, & rife with angst.
I can’t wait to be done. I will have to work not to feel terribly resentful about the experiences my kids had at the Middle & High schools before we realized that in order to look out for our kid’s well being & for their ‘best interests and for their whole selves’ as you say–we have to take them OUT of the system & rescue them.
Oh, sigh, Wendy…
I’m so sad about this — so glad for your daughter that she’s got another option, but so sad, too. We’ve been able to be real believers through this school and boy-oh-man do I want to hold onto some semblance of both faith and hope. But right now I’m holding on with white knuckles…
tanita says:
Oh, Liz. No.
Yours is one of the best schools I’ve ever heard of — prayers ascending that the right thing will be done.
Re: tanita says:
Thank you, Tanita.
Thank you…
Make a sign and start marching!
Well, maybe not quite that – or maybe not JUST that. The school board will likely cave in on this, but they start with their hard-line rumblings to try to make whatever they end up cutting more palatable. I sure as heck hope it’s not your school!!
Yes. Signs made. Meetings attended. Rallies planned.
And you’re right — NONE of the options are palatable but it seems like cutting good schools should be the last option, not the first. Since this is what they’re tasked with, after all…
Thanks, Anne Marie…
That’s what happens here, too: the rumblings. Sigh.
Yes. Down with rumblings. And honestly, if these are just rumblings, I’d hate to see the earthquake. Oi. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing…
You can talk to Cassandra Whetstone about the earthquake. They’ve seen it in California–their schools are crippled.
read THIS at the meeting thursday
it may be longer than 2 minutes, but perhaps trim to fit — this is what they need to hear! let the hard data parents give the facts, they also need poetry. Or so methinks.
(clayton s.)
Where’s the sense?
I often wonder… we saddled our kids with a debt they cannot repay and we continually create new ways to minimize their opportunities through all sorts of educational cuts, at all levels … so where are the people who’d give this a modicum of thought and proclaim it to be complete and utter lunacy?
I say we because I think 30 years from now, our kids will look around and then say to us: “Mom/Dad, what did you do? Or what didn’t you do?” and I am afraid we won’t have a good enough answer.
I hope what you’re doing will be enough (and I think it will be for a time being as there is still enough energy and outrage) but I think the victories will be short-lived. Something else needs to happen, and soon.
the wizard behind the curtain
As you know, I am upset and mad about this possible Zilker closure. What makes me even madder is my suspicion that AISD announces these possible closures on the eve of the legislature opening and targets campuses where parent involvement is high. WHY? It smacks a little of causing foment so that parents will fight the AISD fight at the state level (I can’t believe I am thinking like this. Me, Pollyanna, who believes everyone at their word) so that the funding gap might be remedied at the state level. And of course, we have to fight these closures. We have to look out for our kids, our neighborhood. BUt I am suspicious of a larger manipulation that might be going on. Arrgh.