For those of you who know me well, you know that I have had some serious misgivings about putting my kids in the local public schools. Not because I think the kids are terrible, or the teachers, or even the administration (although I do have my concerns). It is mostly because it seems like the teachers and administrators have no way of overcoming crappy parenting. However, T and I decided that we would put Rollie in pre-K at the elementary in our neighborhood and so I will probably have a series of posts in the next months and years concerning my first impressions of sending my child to public school.
Things that I like:
- The school gets a high rating on sites like great schools.net
- I think his teacher is a great person, who likes what she is doing.
- I LOVE how diverse the school is – Rollie is not a white kid in a sea of white faces, or even a sea of black and white only. Think Benneton kids.
- Parental involvement is high.
Things that I’m Not Liking, or Am Just Downright Bewildered By
- The people responsible for teaching my kid have sent home numerous memos with grammatical and spelling errors. This does not engender confidence.
- My kid has learned all sorts of semi-frightening phrases, like “Die” and “Kill.” I realize this has little to do with the school, and everything to do with hanging out with other kids who have older siblings. It is still disturbing. (Or maybe he reads my blog and Facebook.)
- We went to a PTA picnic and the local fire and police departments were there. They fingerprinted my kids and gave us a digital photo in a little packet. We are supposed to include DNA and dental records in this also, and keep it “in case of emergency.” There is no sicker feeling than watching your 2-year old getting fingerprinted so that they will have a better chance of identifying her in case of “emergency.” The kids thought it was fun, but what about the older kids who realized what it was for? What does that say about the way we view our world and the message we are giving our children about our worldview?
- The school sent home a sheet in my five year old’s backpack, which i am supposed to discuss with my child and then have him sign. He can barely write his own name, and I am supposed to discuss Saying No to Drugs with him? That’s great and all, but I’m not doing it. My kid doesn’t even know what drugs are. I am not going to introduce it to him at just five years of age either. You know what I think I might do? Parent him. As in, keep enough of an eye on him that someone giving him drugs probably won’t be an issue until at least, oh, Kindergarten.
- One day in the carpool line, I discussed the program my son is in with another parent I met recently. Her son had the same teacher last year. I asked her what she thought about the class and the teacher, and her reply was, “We really liked Mrs.______. Bobby loved going everyday. Just don’t expect him to learn anything.” Ummmmm. . . seriously?
Just some things I’ve been thinking (read: Worrying and Stewing) about recently. Thought i would share. This parenting thing is, as I’ve mentioned before, fucking hard.
