We actually ran a new experiment this week. We imagined ourselves a week into the future, tethered to the toll of an unheard bell. The schoolbell, that is. We rose early and readied ourselves for the day; packed the nutritious lunch, donned the helmet, and scooted down the sidewalk. I needed to determine just how much time we will need to get ready without rushing, and its counterpart, fighting.
I cannot believe that Kindergarten is actually a part of our collective vocabulary. Preschool for us was this warm and fuzzy house nestled in the woods, with tree forts and junglegyms that fit seamlessly into the natural surroundings, where everyone knew everyone and the children were the center of the universe. In a place like that I could pretend that I was still homeschooling, and this was just one of the many resources of which we took advantage. That was a nice little story and then it came time to decide something for real. To register for kindergarten or to write our homeschooling letter. We flirted with the idea of sending him to this wonderful private school that was so progressive and expensive that they called themselves a farm. That was a short-lived dream. So, it came down to the good old neighborhood school which we walked to weekly in order to use the playground, or homeschooling.
This is where I get hazy on the details. There was talk of an amazing Spanish Immersion program, a lot of civic-mindedness, community activism hoo-ha-ha, a fearful realization that I may not have the stuff of a homeschooling parent, and suddenly we are here, a few days away from being swallowed by the U.S. educational system. My mind stutters over this fact. We thought we were born homeschoolers. We knew we would never send our children to school before we even had children. "They will have far better than we had," We shouted to anyone who would listen. Educationally coddled as we were; academically privileged; we just knew we coulda been something better had we not been beaten down by the system. This is still true. I still believe this. I think there is an artist in me that never had a chance once I showed an aptitude for math and science. I feel I was as tracked by the GT programs as kids were in the LD classes. It's not entirely the same experience, but I think it's a very similar idea. And I think that's all the public education system has time for. There are not enough teachers, resources, classrooms available for everyone. And it's only getting worse. All the testing, the standards, the funding, all of that is too wrapped up in our children's lives.
I watch Sol. He is a natural learner. He does it without thinking. He loves it. He wants to know as much as he can. I see him hungry for the world and every little bit it has to offer. This is an amazing thing. And I know, as special as he is, that he is not an anomaly. This is childhood. The innate curiousity and wonder about everything. So what happens? Well, when you tell a child to sit down and be quiet enough times, eventually she will sit down and be quiet. And those that don't are punished, are labled troubled or diagnosed with something, and we go to extremes to control "their behavior" and really what we are doing is breaking their will. Because the teacher has only enough time to get the littlest bit of information across to the largest number of students. It's a race more than anything else. And in every race there has to be a loser.
And I don't blame the teachers or the administrators. I've met many people working in public schools who are really committed to children and learning. It's a broken system, and unfortunately one to which our society desperately clings. People say, "Well, that's how it was for me and I'm fine." And I say to that, "Are you really?" 'Because that's how it's always been' is rarely the best choice. I hate when I get on this tangent because then I have to stop and shake myself, and that makes me dizzy and gives me a headache.
I don't know what I'm doing. We sort of came to this from a few different places, one of which was an intense desire to be part of the solution. We saw ourselves as the type of committed and creative people who should be in the system working to make it better. We're activists and here is a place to be active. I like the idea of being part of my neighborhood school. I want to give something to the community in which I live. Do I need to sacrifice my children's love of learning in order to this? No.
He'll learn a language the way it should be learned. He'll be around a diverse group of children his own age. He'll have other adult influences in his life. He'll have access to art supplies and musical instruments and all kinds of learning tools that he might not otherwise, and definitely not for free. Does he need to "go to school" in order to have these things. No.
So, that's where I am— somewhat on the cusp. Sol's interest is piqued. He's an adventurous soul. We all think the day is way too long. Which it is. And I think school cafeterias are abysmal. There is way too much overstimulation, and not enough time to eat. Not to mention what passes for food. But, it's Kindergarten, which I kind of remember was fun. If we were talking first grade or higher, I'd be less willing to take a chance. And if at any time it proves to be the wrong choice for us, then we'll leave. Which is kind of what I'm expecting to be the case. At this point I think we are letting a course that we set in motion play out. Maybe I'm wrong about the whole thing. Maybe he'll love it and be so inspired by the whole experience that he does tremendous things to change the world and make it a better place for everyone. Maybe he'll be so traumatized by the two months that he spends there that it will be too late to save his curiosity and he'll be forever changed into an embittered, soda-guzzling, T.V./video game obsessed, consumer-identified malcontent.
I really am trying to be positive.
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