More than just a number

Just a day or two before I graduated high school I was given a copy of my high school transcript, complete with my GPA.

I graduated high school (and later college) with honors. I had those chords to tout it and all.

I was the president of NHS.

But I had a GPA of something like 3.89 or equally ridiculous.

I was devastated.

Freaking devastated.

Mostly because no one had ever told me that I was more than just a number. That I mattered more than a test score or my GPA.

I remember my dad told me I was being silly for being upset. I was smart and had done well and besides, it didn't make a difference for my college or anything.

And in retrospect it was silly.

But at that moment, it wasn't. To me, it was failure. Utter failure.

I had failed.

It didn't help that I wasn't graduating in the top 10. I was 11.

Eleventh. In a class of 200.

But I was only eleventh.

Failure.

When I was in early elementary school I vividly remember receiving my report card on the last day of school and breaking down in tears. I told my teacher I couldn't see my mom, I didn't want her to pick me up from school because she wouldn't love me anymore (and no, my mom never once said her love was contingent on my grades, ha).

I had a B+ in math for the last quarter.

In math. My least favorite subject. The greatest thorn in my side.

I was like 7. And all ready I was so choked up and freaked out over grades.

If I collected one single tear from each crying session I had over grades during the first 18 years of my life - just one tear from each session - I could fill the Black Sea and then some.

I wish that someone had told me the truth. That somewhere in the midst of all that stress and heartache someone had whisper words of wisdom into my ear and said, "Ki, it doesn't matter. At the end of the day, none of this will matter."

If only I'd known.

Yes, yes, of course, if you are in a school system you have to make the grades up to x for college, yadda yadda yadda. I get all that. But a B+ in the second grade wasn't going to make or break me.

A 99% on a history test instead of 100% wouldn't prevent me from being a history major.

An 84% on a chemistry paper wouldn't affect my overall grade if I did well on everything else.

I wish I'd known.

I see glimpses of my crazy perfectionist self in H sometimes. It scares me.

I've grown so much in the past 5 years. I'm such a better, calm, laid back, go-with-the-flow girl. Occasionally I will feel the anxiety setting in when I get caught up with a kiddo and burn the green beans, and then I take a breath and bring myself back down to earth and remind myself, "It doesn't matter."

Because it doesn't.

I hope H and B never ever feel that overwhelming stress I did as a kid who was less than perfect. I hope they never cry themselves to sleep because they believe wholeheartedly that they've failed. That they're not good enough. That they are anything less than pure perfection in my eyes.

I hope they have no idea that people get graded on asinine things like spelling and math. That instead they simply know that you practice and practice again until you've got it done. No need to make a 6 year old feel like shit. Or a 16 year old.

I hope they know they're so much more important than a number. That they can do anything in the world that they want. And no number can make or break them.

I hope they see that their momma was brilliant. She worked hard, but never too hard or hard enough. That she always put more on her plate than she could swallow, and yet she always swallowed it in half the time anyway. Was always a little more stressed in her school days than was even remotely healthy. And for what?

All just to graduate with honors, and graduate again with honors, and to say "thanks but no thanks" to Law School and career that wouldn't have mattered even a fraction of what they matter to me, but would have deemed me "successful" by everyone else's standards. No one cares that I graduated high school with a 3.89 GPA. No one but J, my mentor, and my professor ever read my college thesis that I spent more hours than there was ever in a day to write.

I hope they realize that the only times any of that was ever worth it was when I looked at myself with my own self-satisfaction. When I was proud of myself. Not when others were.

And I hope they see their papa, who struggled through school and college. Who never had the right grades. Who is dyslexic and plagued with other learning disabilities that no one ever helped him with. I hope that they see that numbers never mattered to him in the make or break your soul way it did to me. That he said "fuck numbers" and became a kick-ass engineer anyway. Because he knew he was so much more than a number. That he worked hard for himself every day. He didn't work hard for a gold star or a high percentage number or because he feared he wouldn't be worthy if he performed less than.

I hope they know they're more than just a number.

No.

I know they will know they are more than just a number.

Because I will never put them in a position where they could possibly think otherwise.

Not everyone has options, that's why it is our job to fight for them

I got a LOT of great responses from my blog post last night. Responses both publicly and privately.

I had a few people whom I hold very dear and near, and whose opinions I deeply value, send me private messages that I would like to address openly. Obviously those people wish to remain anonymous, so no worries!

Three good friends of mine are very pro-public school. They expressed concern that I don't see the value of it or understand that for some people it is the only option.

Firstly, I do believe in public school. Deeply and strongly. I very much see the value of it. I wish we had amazing public schools in which every single child in America thrived. Where they grew as whole people and were able to follow their passions and participate in hands-on learning. Where they are treated kindly and respectfully and as an individual.

I want this for all kids. Not just mine.

But I'm also not willing to throw my kid into the system and hope it all works out when I'm fortunate enough to have the option not to do so.

But for those who have no other choice, I empathize. I'm willing to help and to rally for you to have better options. Such as the aforementioned charter school. Because charter schools are public schools. And they're an option.

Many kids do thrive in a traditional public school. Either because the learning system is ideal for their personality or because they have amazing parents who are helping and rallying for them. Who refuse to give up. And that's awesome.

But not all kids truly thrive in a traditional school setting. Public or otherwise. Not all kids are capable of learning that way.

And that's okay, too.

And not all kids have a great support system at home, whether because their parents simply don't realize they need to be more involved, don't have the ability to do so, or simply don't care.

But all children and families deserve options. Public, free options, at that. We owe it to our children. Not just the ones we birthed, but the children of our communities. The children who will be the adults some day, and who have the power to change the world. Who if we teach now that they deserve better, that they are worth more; will also see and teach that to their children. And in turn, things will get so much better. Our schools will get better. Our world will get better.

I don't believe in utopia. I don't think it exists. But I do believe in dystopia. And I do think that is where we are headed at a drastically alarming rate.

But we have the power to change it. If we don't accept "fine" for our kids. If we don't teach our kids that it's a hard and unfair world and they had better buck up and deal with it. We have the ability to teach our children to be more than cynics and pragmatics. We can teach them to be kind and caring, and to extend a helping hand to others. And no, the world probably won't transform over night. And yes, there will always be those people who don't share a beautiful and kind vision of the world, but it certainly doesn't hurt to try.

Another friend asked if I realized how truly fortunate I am, to have so much power and the ability to choose so much of my life. And my children's.

Yes, I'm aware.

I'm extremely fortunate. I'm in a very fortunate position.

I am fortunate that I have the ability to be home with my kids. There are many people - moms and dads - who would love to be home with their children every day, to be the primary example and role model, and cannot do so. I have friends who are both college educated and work full-time, and together they still live under the poverty line in the U.S.

On the other hand, I have plenty of friends who have no desire to be home with their children each day, even though they could afford to do so. And that's okay.

I'm fortunate because not only do I want to be home with my kids, I can. I have an amazing husband who works hard to allow for it.

I'm also in the fortunate position of location. I live in a phenomenal town. It's open, diverse, and very progressive.

A little boy wearing a tutu and sparkly shoes isn't given a second glance. Even if he doesn't have a sister. My children have no idea that marriage is traditionally between a man and a woman and that there are people who disagree with two people of the same sex loving each other. Love is just love to them.

It's normal for children to speak more than one language, and English not be the first one they learned. We are surrounded by a diverse mix of people, ethnicities and religions. And we manage to do more than just peacefully co-exist in this town - we happily live together. And that's amazing.

We may have shoddy public schools, but we do also have some stellar public schools. I've had friends move across town just so they'd be in the best school district. So they do exist. If the traditional school setting is what is best for your child.

We also have some great private schools. If you can afford them. And I'm fortunate that if it seemed to be our only option, we could make it work. Because we have given up a lot of other luxuries like cable TV and new cars and going out to eat regularly. We buy the bulk of our "stuff" used or second hand. And J and I pretty much never buy stuff for ourselves.

We have a pretty tight knit community. We're the people who come together to help a little boy we've never met get a new pair of glasses. We give $40 outgrown shoes to other kids without so much as an "I OWE YOU." We let mom's we've never seen face to face borrow slings for their tots. We are an amazing community of love of and helpfulness. And I do realize that this isn't the norm every where. So I realize how fortunate I am to be here. And to be a part of something so wonderful.

So trust me. I do see the need and the value of public schools. I do fully realize that for many people, there are no other options. And I know how fortunate I am to have options.

And even if I choose not to utilize my options here, it doesn't mean I won't stop rallying for them to exist for the good of everyone.

Because everyone deserves to have a choice. A public, free choice. The same choices I have. The same support system and the same hope for a better system for our kids.

Because all of our kids deserve better. We owe it to them.

Everyone deserves a choice for their child's education

I'm pretty impassioned about education. Especially my kids' education. But I think that all kids deserve an excellent education.

It seems, however, that most public schools fail to see that all kids deserve a great education. Not an equal education. An equal education is like telling a fish, an elephant, and monkey to climb a tree. That's what they have to do. Even though it's simply not going to work for them all.

An excellent education would cater to the child. It would allow them to get from point a to point b in a manner that best works for them. Because all kids do not learn alike. It's as simple as that. And all kids will not retain the same information or do well in the same classes. And that's totally fine! Because they're not all going to grow up to do the exact same thing.

There is a local charter school that is trying to come to fruition here in my town. It is Waldorf-inspired. I could write about fifty blog posts explaining the Waldorf philosophy and all the reasons it appeals to me, but it'd just be easier if you google it. Like all education philosophies, there are things I don't love about it, but as a whole, I'm very much in favor for it.

Since this school would be charter, they do have to participate in standardized tests, which is a huuuuge drawback for me. Otherwise though, it sounds amazing. It sounds like an environment my kids would thrive in. Yes, thrive.

So see, I'm not anti-school overall, but I am anti-school with our current options. And I do love the idea of spending each day with my kids because I truly enjoy being with them, and it makes me sad to think about sending them off for the bulk of their day every day.

I still feel pretty strongly about homeschooling. But as I've always said, nothing is 100% and I'll never say never. So if this Waldorf-inspired charter school comes to be, maybe my kiddos will go.

Maybe not.

But I like the idea of having that option.

Of other families in this awesome community having that option.

So this evening my friend S and I attended a public meeting in which the school was discussed and then the public was free to comment about the proposed school - in favor or not. All the ideas and thoughts would be taken into consideration as the powers that be diligently listen and use these comments to help them decide yay or nay.

I had no intention of speaking. I just wanted to hear more about this possible option. I like to keep my doors open.

I would say that the majority of people who showed up were in favor of this school, but there was a good handful of people, mostly those on the local school board, who were not in favor. Mostly they lamented how the school would take away from them and their programs.

I get it. I really do. Our public schools are drowning. Our education system doesn't know what the fuck is going on or how to fix it (hint: Maybe take a clue from Finland. They seem to have their shit together). As the school board members so eloquently put it, for each child in the schools, they receive $5,500. So if 200 of them go to a different school - this proposed PUBLIC charter school - they lose roughly 1 million dollars.

We'll just pretend we don't spend the most money per child in a first world country on education and yet have one of the worst education systems. Though my child being worth $5,500 each year to the schools was reiterated by every person who was against this school, that if I wasn't all ready turned off of our local schools, I really am now. They see nothing more than dollar signs when they see my kids.

And quite frankly, my kids are more than just a dollar sign. So a little upset and a lot impassioned I told them just that. In front of a few too many people and on local TV, I told them how my amazing kids love to learn. How they're little sponges who love to be involved in their learning, not simply taught at. I told them my 3.5 year old can read. And what would become of her in our local public school; a kindergartner in a class of 30 kids with one teacher and not even an aide! (And yes, I do realize that not all of our local elementary schools have these ratios, but they do in fact exist in many of our elementary schools).

Yes, yes, my sweet H would make straight A's no doubt. And in school, I guess that's the point. But I want her to be more than just one kid out of 30. More than just another A-student. I want her to thrive. I want her to be engaged in her learning process and love it. I want  her involved and challenged. I want her to be passionate.

All the things I never was in school.

But don't worry.

I made A's.

So I turned out fine.

But I want more than "fine" for my kids.

I feel very strongly about this school. Whether or not my kids even ever have the opportunity to attend it (it's charter, so lottery) I think it's an amazing opportunity for so many kids in this community. I think it's a great way to teach the whole child, and to teach them about the things that matter. Not just teach them to take a test. Because the real world isn't about taking tests. And I certainly hope their lives become something they're passionate about, not something repetitive and mundane because they weren't given the ability to find their passions in their youth because they were too busy taking tests.

It's fine if people don't love this option of schooling. It's fine if they choose something else for their kids. But I think that everyone at least deserves the opportunity to have options about schooling.

Whatever their choice be.

"Play" school

So someone mentioned that they didn’t realize H was in preschool, since our first minor experience was traumatic, and we plan to home school anyway.

Well, she is. Actually, I refer to it as “play” school. She goes to play and sing songs and do crafts and play in the sandbox for 2.5 hours twice a week. And it gives B and me some good 1 on 1 time together. Which is needed, because, yeah…I hang on to that guilt shit like nothing else. But we’re working on it.

Anyway, she loves it. She fussed the first day, but never cried. Because I told myself I would not do it if she cried. It just isn’t worth it. Especially since it’s not necessary. But she didn’t cry. She told me she wanted me to stay, that she didn’t want me to leave, but overall, she did awesome. This was the beginning of October. Because I couldn’t decide when the school year actually began if I wanted to enroll her or not.

And initially decided not to, because I knew she didn’t need it academically or socially.

But then realized that Mommy needed it. Mentally.

And I’m okay with that.

I get some special, uninterrupted time with B, which I got for the first whole 17 months of H’s life. Since J is gone all the time, it gives me some kind of sanity break, especially on the most trying weeks, and we are all a lot happier for it.

And she asks to go now. She tells me she wants to go to preschool on non-preschool days.

So at least I’m not traumatizing her.

Too much. J

The things I learned but didn't really learn.

As I was walking my little girl to preschool this morning (post on preschool to come) I started thinking of nebulous clouds (I think there are such things). And then my mind wandered to nimbus clouds (I think those are real, or maybe something from Harry Potter). At that point I started thinking of volcanoes and sedentary rocks and indigenous trees and all those other things I “learned” in school, but didn’t really learn.

We were taught so much in school that we needed to know long enough to get an A on a test and then 2 weeks later would have looked at the same test as if we had never heard of such information in our lives.

And really, if we’re being honest, we hadn’t really. We weren’t learning the information, just memorizing it long enough to pass a test. And that’s all that was expected of us anyway.

It’s silly, in my opinion, to force kids to learn anything outside of reading, writing, and arithmetic. Everything else is simply an interest. Sure, I think kids should be encouraged to explore other subjects, and maybe even gently nudged towards those they wouldn’t so willingly delve into. But really, outside of reading, writing, and arithmetic, none of it is necessary.

I am sure this will come as a huge surprise, but since my 2^nd grade class where we learned about different clouds, not once have I had a need for to know the differences.  I’ve yet to need my chemistry information, or to utilize that biology dissecting project. No one has asked me about volcanoes. And, wait…..wait for it….I’ve not had to do a single bloody calculus problem since my final exam. Go figure.

And that’s all good, because although I got an A for all those classes, I have retained nada  about any of it.

You want to talk literature or proper grammar (which admittedly I don’t always use), history, travelling, foreign countries or human rights issues, I’m your girl. I’m a butt load of information when it comes to those things. Because they interest me, so I genuinely learned them (though most on my own time, not in a class).

Guess what my college degree is in. That’s right! History and International Studies with a focus on Human Rights. Surprisingly, though really not, I didn’t major or even use any of the crap I was forced to “learn.”

I do think reading, writing, and basic arithmetic are very important, whether you like them or not. Those are three things everyone uses daily, whether you like it or not. I use them as a stay at home mom, my husband uses them as an engineer, my little sister uses them as a college student, my older sister uses them as a 4^th grade teacher, and my step-sister uses them as a waitress. There is just no way around it. (And let’s face it, those are the only thing you are tested on for the SATs. Even they get that everything else just isn’t as important.)

But all that “extra” stuff? Nope. Honestly, what a complete waste of most of my childhood. I could have been playing, learning from the world around me and doing things that truly interest me (which also seem to be tools for learning). Instead I was stuck in a classroom for 7 hours a day doing meaningless busy work that have in no way contributed to me being a successful or well-rounded individual.

I’ve learned so much in my life thus far, and I’m learning so much more each day. But it’s really sad all the things I learned that I didn’t really learn.

I just hope I can give my kids something better. Sure, many are probably rolling their eyes thinking it’s a hippy-free-love way of thinking, but if you think about it; really stop and think about it, you know I’m probably onto something here.

What's the learning rush?

There is so much hype these days to have a “gifted” child. A fast, advanced, talented child. Take your pick.

But honestly, I don’t get it.

I have one child that totally fits into that category. She’s always been well ahead of her peers. She was walking at 10.5 months old, had at least 30 solid words by the time she turned one year. She knew her ABC’s and spoke in sentences, as well as climbed the “big slide” at the playground and could go down on her own long before she turned 18 months. She potty trained herself before her second birthday. At not quite 2.5 years old she knows her letters and their sounds, she’s started putting letters together to make words. She can do simple math.

Everyone has always told me how “fast” she is. Heck, she was holding her own neck up at birth. For real.

What no one ever bothered to tell me is that being “fast” is normal, too. Ask anyone you know, they know at least one, but probably many, “advanced” kids. It’s just as normal as being “average.” It’s not really a big deal.

Except that it is. To a lot of people anyway. There seems to be this overwhelming need for many people that their child(ren) be first. The first to walk and speak and tie their shoes. The first to know their colors and shapes and letters.

But why? Does it even matter?

No.

At least I don’t think so.

I have one perfectly “average” child. He babbles a ton, actually only says “Mama”, “hi”, “muh [more]” and “aaaah duh! [all done!]”. And none of that is consistent. He’s a year old. Unlike his sister at this age, he doesn’t know the toilet is anything other than a big bucket that is fun to throw things into. Though he sometimes tries to repeat the animal sounds I make, I certainly cannot say “vaca” to him and have him make a “moo” sound without prompting, as I could his sister.

He likes to eat the woodchips on the playground. He is not typically interested in sitting with me and reading books, though he will occasionally let his big sister “read” to him. He will scribble on paper for just a minute or two before deciding that it is way more fun to eat the crayons.

As I said. He’s normal. He’s “average.” He’s perfect.

Do I ever wish he were more like his sister?

Yes.

Sometimes.

Not because I want him to be as fast or whatever, but because it is more difficult sometimes to know what he wants due to his limited communication skills. Other than that though, I don’t care if he takes his sweet time.

He doesn’t have to know his colors in the near future. I don’t care if he doesn’t sing his alphabet before his second birthday. I don’t even care if he doesn’t realize a toilet is for peeing in before his third birthday.

Because at the end of the day, he’s just as intelligent as his sister, without a doubt. He’s just at his own pace.

Miss H is fast. That’s her pace. I never forced her to learn any of the stuff she knows; she just wanted to. She’s a sponge. For awhile I was a bit caught up in the idea that she needed something better to help her little brain. Better teachers at a good school. Until I realized who in the world could ever be better than her parents? We’ve gotten her this far, surely we know her best and can teach her best.

Would she learn even more and likely even faster in an academic setting where all she does is learn?

Sure. I bet she would.

But she’s 2.5. She’s a toddler. A baby almost. She has the right to be a child. She has her entire life to learn. But she has such a short time to be a child. And of course, she’s still learning anyway. It’s not like that gets turned off if you’re not in a school.

There’s no need to rush learning. Every day is a learning experience. We simply cannot help but learn.

Baby B is taking things at his own stride. He’s marching to his own drum. That’s really a fiddle. And that’s okay.

Because I guarantee that when they’re 10 and 11, they’ll both be able to read and write. They’ll be able to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. They’ll know all about the science behind volcanoes and clouds. They’ll know about animal habitats. They’ll know geography. And it won’t matter if they learned it all at 3 or 6 or 9.

So for me, there is no reason to push it.

Of course, I will encourage them to learn every day by all the things we do. And I will always help them if they want to learn. Miss H is really determined to “read the words, Momma.” So I’m doing my best to help her learn to read. But only because she wants to.

I think it’s important that kids be kids. That they do things in their own time. That they have lots of unstructured time.

And who cares if baby Joe can multiply at 3? When he’s 8, he’ll still know how to multiply, and so will all of his peers. So really, does it matter?

Maybe.

But not to me.

So does that mean I’m not proud when my 29-month-old can sound out the word “bat”? Of course not! But I wouldn’t be any less proud if she didn’t do it until she was 6 either.

Teachers are amazing

I truly respect teachers. They probably serve the career I respect most in this world.

I'd venture to say that they have to most difficult job in the world.

I mean, they know what kids *need* academically, but they don't have the ability to give it to them always. They are not at liberty to allow the more advanced kids to work at a quicker pace, to keep the average kids at another, and to then give the kids who need some extra help the time they need. They are expected to keep them all together. At the same pace. On the same track. No one is allowed to be ahead. Or behind. How?

And while doing this they are expected to both actually teach our children and give them a quality education while also teaching them to perfect the art of test-taking so that their pupils are able to get the right scores.

It has to be difficult to treat 30 students in one class respectfully when 28 of them are likely not treated with respect at home, and thus show no respect for their teacher. When kids are rude and uncooperative, you want to yell and take away the only privileges they are allowed. Especially when you are not their parent, it's not your job to parent them, and really, you don't have that kind of time. You have to teach.

The politics that teachers have to put up with are ridiculous. I truly feel for them.

I may not be pro-school systems in general, but I'm very pro-teacher.

They take on a task that very few actually could, let alone do. They have so much passion and courage and drive to make a difference in this world that they are willing to put up being harrassed and bullied by parents, students, and all school authority in general, whilst being paid next to nothing, in hopes of making a difference and bettering the lives of children through education.

Seriously, these people need an award.

Some of the best people and some of the people I most respect are or were teachers (including my older sister!). There are several teachers who greatly influenced my life in a positive way (and a few in a negative...).

Teachers need a round of applause. They are heroes in the lives of so many children. They're the ones who step up to the plate and do for children what many parents either cannot do or choose not do.

In the classroom they take on the role of educator, caretaker, counselor and so much more. For 8 hours a day they are the greatest influence in the lives of many children. And (most of them) do it all so well.

So regardless of my schooling choices, I applaud teachers. They are amazing. They do amazing work. And that should never be littled or dismissed in the eyes of anyone.

Little sis graduates...will my kiddos?

My baby sister graduated high school today. Well, I guess she's really not a baby.

I found myself getting all teary-eyed during her commencement. Lord knows I didn't get weepy at my own high school graduation (or college!). I was so happy to get the flying fuck out of there, I didn't even want to attend my own graduation(s).

And yet, for a split second anyway, I found myself questioning if the decision J and I have made at this point in our lives, to home school Miss H and baby B, is the right one. By depriving them of a high school graduation (and a kindergarten one), would we somehow be doing some kind of irreparable damage to them?

As I said, it was only a split second of questioning, because I was quickly and easily able to remind myself that the damage of putting them in the school system far outweighed the damage of them never wearing a cap and gown and being handed a piece of paper in front of a few hundred people. At least in my opinion.

I think school is definitely a "to each their own" thing. And beliefs constantly change. A year ago I would not have even considered the possibility of considering homeschooling, now I have a hard time considering any type of school system, whether it be public or private.

Much like different parenting methods work for different families, I realize that different schooling works for different families. It's not a "one shoe fits all". Which is one of the reasons I really hate the public school system, as well a many private schools. They all teach all the children the same things, at the same speed, and the same way. And that doesn't make sense to me. Kids are different. They learn in many different ways. That should be realized and expanded upon. But it isn't.

I also really dislike that children spend 7 hours at school (sometimes more!) with only 2 thirty minute breaks (sometimes less!) and are expected to sit still and not speak and do what they are told and most especially, never question anything. I don't want a robotic sheeple of a child. I want a strong individual who is free to play and explore and question everything often.(I'm not saying that all children who are put through the public school system are sheeple, obviously they are not. But that doesn't mean that many of them are not either.)

I guess I'm just realizing that allowing my children to learn at their own pace, on their own terms, in a manner that is best for them is the better option for us. And if that means I won't get to take photos of them at a cute kindergarten graduation, or even a teary high school graduation, then that's okay. I'll still get to hear all about them from my friends and their kids, and I'll probably even get to attend some too! And that will be awesome. But, unless things change, which really, can always happen, those are just some things my kids won't experience. But they will have a bunch of different, great (and I'm sure not-so-great) experiences that kids who are "attending" school won't have. So it all evens out, right?

I hope so.