Today I spent a few hours in my 2^nd grader’s classroom for “Native American Day”. There were lots of other parents visiting the school today for Thanksgiving feasts, but me? No feast, just 3 hours of craft rotations.

I don’t get to spend much time at school, but my son has been making a lot of noise lately about me about coming in. He espedcially wanted me to chaperone a field trip to the Frontier Culture Musuem, but my offer was declined (too many already). Instead I got the opportunity to participate in “Native American Day”. Oy. Here are a few things I learned from my day at school:

I’m really grateful for the teacher my son has. We rotated through 4 classrooms, and hers was by far the best. The first was filthy, chaotic and colorless. The teacher, dry as a bone. The second room was bright and well organized, and the teacher a bit more animated, but her son was in the group, and her personality changed dramatically every time she spoke to him, as if she had to prove she wasn’t favoring him. She actually said he was the only one in that room she was allowed to beat, so he should be quiet. I feel sure she was joking, but I didn’t find it funny. The third class was with an experienced teacher. She was delightful and skilled and a close second to my son’s teacher who is young and enthusiastic, and runs a tight ship. I could tell by the way this group behaved that she had appropriately high expectations that they tried hard to rise to meet.

School is chaotic. I was surprised by how many interruptions there were - people coming and going from the office, kids being called out on errands, announcements over the intercom. I remember as a childcare center director being able to read a story, answer a staff question, and keep my eye on every child in the room simultaneously, always operating in a constant hum of noise and movement. I had forgotten what that was like. When I started working in  a “real” office, I remember thinking how quiet it was and wondered if I could ever get used to it. Oh, I did. 

I still love working with children. I wearied of the weight of responsibility for hundreds of children and staff. Parents can be a huge pain. Crowd control is not my thing. But watching a group of children go through their paces, being able to sit and have one-on-one conversations – that is pure pleasure. I enjoyed watching my son in his element. He was attentive, polite, happy and showed some leadership. He completed every project with ease. But I found myself drawn to the boy who didn’t speak to anyone, for whom tying a knot was a challenge and weaving a God’s eye was completely confounding. It was all hard, all overwhelming, and my heart broke with the knowledge that it was just a matter of time before this boy was completely left behind. Would anyone notice?

In just a few hours I was reminded of everything to love and much that’s wrong with our education system. I know many gifted teachers for whom their  work is a challenge, a joy, and a mission field, which only makes me grieve more for all the bad ones that persist unchecked.

And the bureaucracy and crazy CYA policies and procedures... *Sigh* My darling 16 year daughter was wearing a bandana rolled up and tied as a head band today (sort of like the one in the photo below). She was actually told to remove it because it is considered a gang symbol. Whisky Tango Foxtrot! Is this what we’ve come to?