Dating Infinity

I have an imaginary dilemma; that is to say, I have been thinking much about a decision that I may not have the opportunity to make. Here’s the situation: DJ seems to be finally settled into his kindergarten class at Sylvan Heights Science Charter School. He enjoys school, gets along well with his classmates (though he hasn’t developed any relationships that continue beyond school hours), and is comfortable with the routine, uniform, building, etc. The teachers seem dedicated, and as a charter school, there is a higher level of parent involvement than standard public school, which translates into less behavior problems and higher expectations for conduct and academic achievement. On warm mornings when we get up early enough, we can walk to the school, and it’s close to Darrel’s work.

Now for the drawbacks. . .there is no grass on the school property, there is a lot of paperwork and not much individualized instruction (as far as we can tell), lunches are rushed, and–the big one–it only goes up through fourth grade.

Enter Infinity Charter School. Located about 2 miles away, but in a different school district, Infinity bills itself as a non-discriminatory school for the gifted (which we’re not convinced DJ is) serving kids in kindergarten through 8th grade. We had applied there last year, but with only 11 slots in kindergarten and priority going to students in that district, we didn’t get in. I wavered on whether to reapply for 1st grade, and finally did so at the last minute.

The dilemma is: would we choose to send DJ to Infinity if we were given the opportunity? (you see why this is an imaginary dilemma—a little bit like deciding what to do with the lottery money you haven’t won yet. I guess you could say I bought a ticket. You could also compare it to the practice of dating someone you’re not sure is marriage material.)

On the side of Infinity, there is the argument that DJ is going to have a school transition at some point; better then to have a transition sooner so that he has more time in a stable environment. It’s possible that a faster-paced setting with more individualized options would open up new worlds to him (how could it not?), but it’s also possible that he may have a difficult transition and have the wind knocked out of his sails when he discovers that kids his age have abilities far beyond his (not that being humbled is a bad thing—not always being at the head of the class is one of the selling points in the Infinity presentation to parents). The risk of exchanging something good for something that seems better is that you end up with something that’s simply different, or worse.

I think my big hang up with Infinity is that it’s not in the city. There are some significant statistical differences: 75-90% of Sylvan Heights SCS kids qualify as low income, compared to 16% at Infinity; 63% of Infinity’s kids identify themselves as Caucasian, compared to approximately 5% at Sylvan Heights. But it’s something more intangible that gives me pause about Infinity. I’ve chosen to live in the city for many reasons—it’s what we can afford on one income, I appreciate the racial/cultural diversity, it’s close to my important places (church and work), living in the city reduces my ecological footprint, I don’t want to be in a position where I’m comfortably shielded from injustice and human need, and I think that informed, active citizens can help restore the vitality of the city. I didn’t move to Harrisburg for the schools. No one does. But if I want to offer Harrisburg life as a viable option for others, then shouldn’t I be able to accept, even embrace, the Harrisburg School District as part of the package? Instead, I already feel hypocritical for not enrolling DJ in the closest public school, but at least Sylvan Heights serves city residents exclusively.

I just took a break and looked up both schools on www.greatschools.net. I only looked at the parent reviews, which are very mixed for Infinity and very positive for Sylvan Heights. On the other hand, the greatschools rating system gives Infinity a 10 and Sylvan Heights a 2.
Ahhrgh. Must stop thinking ahead and focus on the present. I’m glad to have the chance to waste time staring at the computer screen—last week was very stressful, and there was no time to waste. Having imaginary dilemmas is a luxury on so many levels.

The Scariest Movie I Never Saw

NOTE: I had the link wrong--sorry. It's right now.

I heard today about a movie that turned my stomach, set my heart quivering, and made my eyes wide with horror. It’s a documentary called Witchhunt which is airing on MSNBC on Sunday. Go here for a review and excerpt.

Witchhunt is about a group of families, the parents of which were accused and convicted of sexual assault on their children. After 12 years of prison time, the convictions were overturned, parents were declared innocent after all, and released.

Stop and think about that, and tell me your guts don’t churn, too. From any angle, it’s horrifying. What kind of agony did those children experience, testifying against their parents, bearing the responsibility for their incarceration, suffering the absence of their guidance while growing up in foster care? What torture to sit in prison while someone else raises your children? What is wrong with the world when overzealous people cause such harm in their efforts to protect, and how could the truth be masked for so long?

What motivated them to lie? The review and accompanying clip insinuate that police and social welfare workers put so much pressure on the kids that they made this stuff up under the mistaken impression that they were helping their parents and peers. How can that be?? The skeptic in me wants to believe that the children told the truth after all, that our justice system is not so broken that “mistakes” like this could happen, but what an awful thing to hope for. I keep thinking there must be more to the story. How much has this made-for-TV documentary slanted the facts to tug on our heartstrings?

I think I’ve convinced myself I need to watch Witchhunt in its entirety, in search of some reassurance that this nightmare won’t happen again and to look for signs of redemption. Can something good come from this evil?

Rules of Engagement

I like rules. Not to say that I’m a model citizen, but I do think that rules are an essential part of living in society, and I idealistically think the world would be a better place if people followed rules. But which rules? Whose laws? Thankfully I’m not in charge of the world, because here’s a list of rules that guide me:

• From June through October, I can eat ice cream every night. From November through May, I can only eat ice cream on Sundays.
• If I buy an article of clothing, I have to get rid of one.
• The only meat I pay money for is from local small family farms where animals are pastured.
• Never pay more for a concert than the price of a CD.
• Don’t listen to radio or watch TV that has commercials.

Of course, rules are made to be broken; doing so keeps me humble and spontaneous. And maybe sometime I'll write about how my rules came to be.

I was talking with a friend the other day about another friend’s mugging, which led to talk about gangs in Mexico, organized crime, and the seemingly steep descent of the world in a handbasket. He interrupted—“Organized crime? You want to talk about organized crime, talk about a government that robs the poor to support the violent activities of those in charge, that extorts money, ‘protection fees,’ to keep people safe.” He was ranting, I zoned. But the questions remain: Whose rules? Which laws?

The Price of Parenthood

I started reading Parenting, Inc. yesterday (subtitled: How we are sold on $800 Strollers, Fetal Education, Baby Sign Language, Sleeping Coaches, Toddler Couture, and Diaper Wipe Warmers—and What It Means for Our Children, by Pamela Paul). It made me proud of the freecycled jogging stroller, circa 1989, that we use on long walks.

As a complete act of rebellion against the marketing machine, DJ and I invented a game that involved a roll of masking tape. That’s it. We played happily for at least 20 minutes, rolling it from one end of the hallway to the other, laughing raucously as it zinged, wobbled, plopped, and spun.

Alas, I crumbled. My knees got tired and I got bored, so I suggested we watch a Curious George video. Even cheap parents have to count the cost.

Another reason to celebrate!

Happy birthday, Mom!

A Reason to Celebrate

I’ve decided that one of the main functions of kindergarten is the transmission of culture from one generation to the next. This seems especially true in the area of holidays. DJ has eagerly embraced every holiday he learns about at school, which to date has included Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Christmas, Martin Luther King Day, Presidents Day, Valentines Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and April Fools Day. We hid our smiles back in December when DJ commented on hearing “The 12 Days of Christmas”. “Mom--they’re singing the 6 days of Kwanzaa song, but with different words!” He’s already looking forward to Cinco de Mayo.

I am pretty much a grinch when it comes to holidays. Thus far, we’ve avoided having an indoor tree at Christmas (though we do decorate the evergreen that’s outside), and I generally refuse to take part in what I call “Hallmark Holidays”—special occasions that the card industry wants you to celebrate so they can make money. But there’s something about a kid begging you “don’t peek!” while he slips a fake spider onto your pillow as you’re pretending to sleep that softens even my hard heart. After he was in bed, I stealthily taped toilet paper to his door, trapping him inside. I froze his juice cup, put a spider of my own creation into his shoe, and Darrel taped his spoon to the table. If part of what children are supposed to teach us is joy, spontaneity, and a zest for living, then I’m willing to learn, even if it means I have to celebrate holidays.