Because It's February

Once upon a time, BestestHusband was BestestBoyfriend, and he was trying to change that status. He had a ring and a big question, and he wanted me to relocate from sunny Austin to less-sunny Boston to wear that ring. Wearing the ring was an easy decision. Of course I'd marry him! But moving back to Boston? After giving away all of my sweaters and swearing I'd never return? So we made a deal. He agreed to take me somewhere warm and sunny every February if I never made him listen to NPR. It was a deal. 

Well, that first year of marriage, he realized the wisdom of making that deal. Well, other than just being able to spend his life with me... February is just not my month. It's really just not my month. February in Boston is when it's been dark for 3 months. The temps are at their yearly lowest, and the snow is at its deepest. Bostonians are miserable. Seasonal depression has set in. We're all vitamin D deficient. It's hard to go out and exercise in the snow and ice. Parking is a pain. Heating bills are high. It's all just bad Bad BAD. We all just want to hide in our beds under layers of warmth and wait for it all to go away. And it's really bad for me. There might be some moodiness and crying involved. This Texan does not do February.

So over the last 9+ years, I've come to just accept that some things will not happen - Because it's February. In my mind, that's a perfectly reasonable rationale for a lot of things. 

HurricaneDebbie is really interested in using the toilet. But we're not potty training right now. Because it's February. And I just can't manage the extra laundry and floor cleaning that potty training involves.

The pediatrician told me last week that HurricaneDebbie needs to give up the pacifier. I told her that I will do that in the spring. But not right now. Because it's February. And I just can't handle the extra whining and crying that will result from taking away the paci.

I want to really curb my diet and ramp up my exercise routine and lose a few pounds. But not right now. Because it's February. I just don't have the motivation or energy. And a bit of comfort eating is something I should allow for myself in February. 

I really need to clean the house and do some serious purging and reorg. But it's just not going to happen. I shouldn't even think about it yet. Because it's February. And I just don't have the energy.

I'm short-tempered. Because it's February.

I'm really not interested in doing much of anything. Because it's February.

Find a new job? No way. Because it's February.

Fun new craft projects? Not a chance. Because it's February.

Go outside? Heck no. Because it's February.

Even planning the Easter Egg Hunt feels like a huge burden. Because it's February. In March, it will sound like a lot more fun. In general, it's a highlight of my year. But there's no such thing as a highlight in February.

Every year, I start to get down on myself for feeling gross, tired, grouchy, and generally unpleasant. I ask, "What is wrong with me? Why does life suck?" And then I remember. Because it's February. 

February eventually passes. I have to remind myself that summer here doesn't really start until July, and I won't be truly WARM until then. But life starts to suck a lot less as soon as we can turn the calendar to March. Because it's no longer February. 

Thank you Lord for getting us to March. And for sending us only one February each year.

First Day of School

Monday was a day we'd been looking forward to for a while.
HeyMama and MeToo started their respective Kindergarten classes in a wonderful little Boston Public elementary school. LittleDebbie started part-time daycare in a wonderful little home day care center in our neighborhood. All 3 girls walked in the door with a smile on their face, and all 3 had great days. 

While I was getting dressed for work, I listened to a report on NPR commemorating the 40th anniversary of forced integration, or "bussing", in Boston Public Schools. So much has changed in 40 years. 

I drove the girls to their first day of school. We parked on a street near the school and walked together; BestestHusband rode his bike and met up with us. Children and parents were milling around excitedly outside. Parents from the Parent Council wrote down our email addresses, gave us name tags, and served us coffee and treats. We introduced ourselves to parents who also looked new, and were swarmed by parents who weren't. We were from multiple neighborhoods around town, but found some families that lived a short walk from us and shared the same bus stop. The principal rang his chime, and the hubbub died down. He directed children and parents to their places for the welcoming ceremony. We formed a circle in the middle of the parking lot. The new Kindergarteners were in the middle, the bigger kids were around them, and parents were on the outside. We held hands around the circle. The principal talked about the importance of school and the values we were all to share. Everyone there was directed toward that purpose. We were supposed to be a community. 

But the audio played of the first day of school 40 years ago was quite different, and still rang in my ears. People were yelling and screaming. Glass was shattering. Police were trying to separate an angry mob from the schoolchildren they were throwing bricks at. Yes. People were throwing bricks into busses full of children. And spitting on them as they tried to get into school. 
Let me repeat that. 
People were throwing bricks at children on their way to school.

It was because the federal mandates to integrate schools were finally being enforced. Children from white neighborhoods were being put on busses to go to schools in black neighborhoods. And children in black neighborhoods were being put on busses to go to schools in white neighborhoods. And people were angry. 

It's hard to imagine this side of Boston today. Sure the neighborhoods still have old tradition, and the elderly that live there reflect the neighborhoods' pasts. Rozzie still has a lot of people of Greek origin. West Rox is still very Irish. South Boston is still very Irish, too. The North End is still very Italian. Dorchester and Mattapan still hold generations of African-American families. But they all now hold immigrants, too. And newcomers from other parts of the US, lured to Boston by universities, like us. You don't get beat up for going to the wrong neighborhood anymore. 

When I watched my girls walk into their new school, I never doubted that they'd be safe. Of course they would be. But I couldn't help but think of those parents 40 years ago, wondering if they'd made the wrong choice by making their kids go to school. Many of them weren't wealthy enough to move to the burbs. And the Catholic schools had frozen enrollment, so there was nowhere else for them to go. How do you choose between an education and safety?

As I looked at the name tags and listened to the names called during the school assembly, I saw that the forced integration had worked. My girls' classmates will have names like Molly, Jack, Brianna, Messiah, Rashan, and Athena. This would be unthinkable 40 years ago.

Yesterday, I put the girls on the bus for the first time. We watched more than a dozen busses pass before theirs arrived. Children from our neighborhood were scattering to various schools on busses that fanned out around the city. This is the ongoing process of "bussing". Neighborhoods can no longer be insular. My girls gleefully climbed the steps for their first bus ride to school. They smiled back at me, waved, and disappeared. There would be no bricks. There would be no riot police. There would just be children going to school.

We have much to be thankful for. 



PS. I don't want to sound so blithe to imply that I don't recognize that there are still serious race and class issues in the city of Boston. There are. One of the gripping articles that I read on the matter talked about the communities of S. Boston and Dorchester that first experienced bussing; it observed that it's the poorer communities that bear the brunt of the challenges and shortcomings of the public education system. This, alas, has not changed in 40 years. We talk about how, when we got seats at the girls' school, we won the school lottery. But the reality is that we had already won by having the ability to buy out to a wealthier school district.

We Are Wealthy

I was talking to another mom at the playground after school today, and we got on the discussion of what we wanted out of schools - the non-academics that enriched our children's lives. We both agreed that we didn't want to send our kids to schools in the wealthy suburbs. She didn't want her children to be in the pressure-cooker environment - one that makes kids think that the only things that mattered in life were what college you got into and what you did for a living. I agreed with her. We both grew up in the South, and find New England's preoccupation with academic pedigree to be a bit concerning. (Of course, as I look up from my computer, it's BestestHusband's diploma from a school in TX that is larger than my other diplomas combined.)

But my greatest fear of sending my girls to an environment like that is that they'll grow up thinking they're poor. 

If we were to live in a ritzy suburb, we would be in the bottom half of incomes there. We would live in a more modest home than the girls' peers. We would drive an older car, with a less-impressive name. The girls would not have the same electronics as their peers. They would not jaunt off to tropical destinations and tour foreign countries on their Spring breaks. They would not have the same things as their wealthier classmates. And they would likely feel themselves lacking. They would likely conclude that they were unfortunate, and poor. And this is so far from the truth.

Now we are not wealthy by Boston's income standards. There is a great deal of money in this city. And if you know how to spot it, you see it everywhere. (It's not as easy to spot as it was living in Houston. But that's another post for another time.) But Boston provides a poor yard stick for measuring wealth. 

Here's how I know we are wealthy:

• We're not one payment away from losing the roof over our heads.
• We don't have to choose between buying food and buying medicine.
• We don't have to choose between paying our electric bill or our phone bill.
• When we're cold, we can turn up the heat.
• When we're hungry, we can buy food.
• If we lose our mittens, we can buy new ones.
• When we outgrow snow boots, we can buy bigger ones. 
• We can afford reliable transportation to get everyone to work and school.
• We can afford to fill the gas tank, even as gas prices climb.
• We can afford safe, reliable childcare for our children so we can show up for work every day. 

We may grumble about some of these costs, but it's not really a question of whether or not we can provide what our family needs. We may wish we had a bigger house with an actual garage, but that's a want, not a need. And it's a luxury. Our children don't really know what hunger is. Nor do they really know what it is to be constantly cold. The addition of one extra mouth to feed does not plunge our family into financial insecurity. 

I want my children to grow up knowing that this simple fact of having their basic needs met on a daily basis is a great blessing, and that we are part of the world's most fortunate and wealthy inhabitants. Because, regardless of what they see on TV, and regardless of hearing "we won't buy that, it's too expensive", there is nothing they really need. And that makes them wealthy.

Of course, the next thing they need to grow up understanding is that wealthy people need to help people that aren't. But that's another post for another day...

I pray that you'll recognize your own wealth, and give thanks for it as well.

Eerie Silence

Imagine waking up to a SWAT team in your backyard, scoping out your garage and shed.
Imagine waking up to the news that the city is under lockdown, with all residents ordered to lock doors and windows and stay home. 
That's the situation in our area right now. 
Public transportation is shut down. 
Taxi service is shut down. 
Boston is shut down.

The home videos of SWAT teams moving through well-manicured yards are surreal.
The lack of cars and busses on the street is creepy. 
Sirens wail in the distance.
The silence is punctuated by the birds that have returned for the spring. 
But other than that, there's silence. 
And it's eerie.

Parenting After the Blasts

I saw a post on Facebook yesterday looking for parents in Boston to talk about their children's experience with the recent attacks, and how we're dealing with them. So I responded, and got a call from a reporter. We chatted for a while, and as usually happens, I didn't think about what I was saying until the words come out of my mouth. And as I said them, the words made me sad.

HeyMama is a very perceptive kid. She picks up on offhand comments. And asks about them later. She can hear me opening a bag of peanut M&Ms on the other side of the house. And asks for one immediately. After the shootings in Newtown, despite our attempts at a media blackout, she came downstairs early while I was still in bed and heard about the attack on the clock radio. So I knew there was no way to avoid the attacks that happened in our town, just blocks from our church. I had to address it on my own terms.

BestestHusband alerted me to the tragedy. The girls and I had been napping when it happened. His news woke me immediately. I knew people running the race. I knew people who were going to watch. I've never been so thankful for Facebook as I was on Monday, as I was able to check in on people, mentally adding people to my "safe" list. 

When the girls were awake and playing, I told HeyMama the news. I reminded her of the race we were watching on TV that morning, the one with the super fast guy in the wheelchair. I told her that a bad thing happened, that someone used bombs to hurt a lot of people. I told her 2 people (which was true at that time) had died. I told her about the first responders, the police, the doctors and nurses who rushed in to help. I told her about the police and soldiers who were being called in to find the person who did the bad thing, so they couldn't do it again. I tried to draw attention to "the helpers", like Mr. Rogers talks about. Boston was full of them on Monday.

She talked about it a lot at dinner time. Our neighbor, Mr. Jason, is a Boston cop. She talked about how he was helping "catch the bad guy". It was an exciting concept to her. Bad guys are in books and movies. Mr. Jason was chasing a REAL bad guy! BestestHusband told her that the whole event was a sad and somber one. Real people got really hurt. We were very sad for them. It wasn't something she should be too excited about. 

Despite our attempts to keep the media coverage away from her, HeyMama is attracted to it like a... like me to chocolate. It's irresistible, and she can't get enough. And she manages to find it. Shame on the Wall Street Journal for their blood-spattered image on the front page of the paper. Since when was she so interested in the newspaper?! She found it hidden UNDER other sections! Even the tiny images on Facebook were enough to catch her eye. Sigh.

As I discussed with the reporter, this is just the beginning. She asked how HeyMama's perception of the event colored my own. I said that I wish it was as simple as HeyMama thought it would be. At her age, it's appropriate to know that people sometimes do bad things, and the helpers come help and then the bad guy can't do bad things anymore. The event is an isolated one, and when it's over, it's over.

But in our post - 9/11 world, that's not really true. It's another in a long string of senseless attacks designed to maim, kill, and instill fear. This week's was in my own city. Who knows where the next one will be. But as adults, we all know there will be others. There will be more violence, more sorrow, more grieving family and friends. More memorial services. More candlelight vigils. This was the realization that made me so sad when I said it. 

And each time another happens, we will have to help our children understand it. Their age and development will change between each one. They will understand more of it, but also understand less of it. And we'll struggle with helping them understand, because it doesn't really make logical sense to us, either. But we have to shepherd our children into a world where violence shows regularly on the news. And we have to deal with the fact that we can't keep them safe all the time, and we can't promise them that someone else will keep them completely safe, either. How is this concept supposed to make sense to our children? How are they supposed to feel safe? It's so hard for us to stomach, and we're 30ish years older than they are. 

It's times like this that I'm thankful for our faith. Our faith teaches us that sin is in the world, and as a result, there is evil, pain, death and destruction. It's inevitable while we live on this earth. Our only hope is in a Savior who will ultimately win over sin and death. We won't experience this while we live here on Earth. But in the meantime, we know we can find comfort and peace in our faith. Our faith won't keep bad things from happening to us. But we know that a steadfast faith in Jesus and his eternal salvation will allow us comfort when they do. Is there hope for true peace on earth in our lifetime? I don't really think so. But as sad as this is, it's not as devastating as it could be.

So this is how we parent after the blasts. In the midst of the turmoil and fear, we can teach our children to turn with us to our God. "On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other else is sinking sand." I just hoped they'd be a little older before these scary lessons needed to be taught.

The Day I Put On A Funny Hat And Look Like A Doofus

Let Holy Week begin! This past Sunday, Palm Sunday, began Holy Week, the week leading up to Easter. At our church, that was the day we joined together with our preschool and hosted an Easter Egg Hunt that we invited the community to. So I celebrated the occasion, now known as "The Day I Put On A Funny Hat And Looked Like A Doofus". Attendees were encouraged to wear Easter Bonnets, so the girls and I wore the biggest flowery hats we could manage. And the girls wanted to wear their Easter finest, so we were really all decked out.

We started out inside the church. Pastor gave a short talk, and the children sang two songs they'd been practicing. Then I introduced the plan for the hunt. And then the Easter Bunny arrived. He led us down the street to the Comm Ave Mall, a large grassy area that's part of the Emerald Necklace. Our egg hiders scattered them out pretty well. We had areas designated for different ages so that the big kids didn't plow down the toddlers. It actually worked out pretty well. Everyone got tons of eggs, which they exchanged for tons of prizes, and then they gorged themselves on sugar.

It was pretty spectacular to see our church family step up and volunteer for the event, and things just kinda happened when they needed to. For the most part.

BestestHusband took some spectacular pictures of adorable children outside on a sunny day. But you know I don't like to post pictures of the girls (must allow for some plausible deniability someday)

and, I'd like to protect the future plausibility of my friends' children, as well. So instead, you're stuck with generic shots of kids outside. And me in a giant pink hat. Enjoy!

I'm giving instructions about the hunt. And making a kinda scary face.

Still talking. Now looking really scary.

Here I am yelling. Like the snow in the background? Good thing we didn't hide white eggs.

Now I'm yelling and pointing. Geez, could I manage to take one flattering picture? 

Lots of happy hunters finding eggs in the receding snow.

The bigger kids covered a lot of ground, and covered it quickly.

We'll ignore the topics of why I manage to look like such a doofus, and why on earth there's still snow on the ground the week before Easter. The Texan in me finds that to be horrifically wrong. But God apparently approved of our hunt, because He gave us 50 degree weather to hunt eggs in. I'll just focus on that part and give thanks.

Lottery Results Are In!

Well, after months of waiting and wondering, the lottery results are in!

I'm talking about the Boston Public Schools school assignment lottery, of course. You know, school assignment - that mysterious system where you register your child, rank a series of schools in your zone, get assigned a random number, and wait to find out where your child will attend school? 
Oh. You don't? 
Oh... 

That's probably because you live in a normal area where your child attends the school in your neighborhood instead of climbing on a bus to travel to a school 40 minutes away in morning traffic. I do not. I live in the city of Boston, where we do schools a bit differently. 

Boston has some fantastic schools. And Boston has some pretty bad schools. And where your child attends depends on your lottery assignment. And the zone that you live in. And your walk zone. And sibling preference. Oh, and whether or not you can afford to send your child to a private school to avoid being assigned to a bad school. This was all designed in the interest of fairness. And it is fair. Even our local politicians have no control over what schools their kids get in to. It's fair. Unless you have money to move to the expensive 'burbs or pay private tuition. So maybe it's not really fair. Just anxiety-inducing and annoying. Alright, this is a rant for another day... 

They're changing the system for next year, to reduce some of the insane bussing costs and general parent anxiety. In theory, they can put the bussing money they save into the "underperforming" schools. We're not quite sure how it will work, though. That, too, is a rant for another day...

So, drumroll please.......

HeyMama got a seat at the Trotter School! 
I think it was ranked number 15 out of 16 on our list. It's way across town, in an area we don't frequent often. Because of distance. Ok, and crime. I certainly wouldn't drive there at night. I haven't driven there yet, but I strongly suspect it will take around 40 minutes to drive there in morning rush hour traffic. But I should test it to know for sure.

The school is considered a "turnaround" school. In other words, it's been so bad in the past that the school was allowed to set extended hours and have the ability to more freely fire and hire staff to bring up the quality of the teachers. (We'll ignore the implications for our local teacher's union...) Additional resources and special rules were granted to the school because it was just so bad. And I understand that the changes have helped a lot. I've heard great things about the school. I'm sure HeyMama could learn a lot there. But when she starts school next year, she'll have a 3 week-old sibling. And I'll be a sleep-deprived milk-leaking zombie who will choose between driving across town at 8am or putting a 4 year old on a school bus for a 40 minute ride. Both options make me shudder. 

We're waitlisted for our top three choices, which are all in our walk zone (ie. less than a mile away):

• Sumner Elementary:  #22
• Mozart Elementary:  #41
• Bates Elementary Special Needs Integrated Classroom:  #45

These numbers aren't great. Sure, there is a rare chance we could get into the Sumner, but I'm not holding my breath.

So, like any decent family with a bit of wiggle room in the budget, we'll start touring local private/parochial schools. The tuitions aren't that different from what we've been paying for preschool this past year, anyway. We're not talking about elite prep schools for our 4 year old, just an alternative to being bussed to the 'hood. It's all part of the "fair" education system in our city. Fairness is great until we talk about putting my sweet little 4 year old on a long bus ride with the big kids to a neighborhood with random gun violence. Then screw fairness. She's 4. Her father and I didn't complete a combined 15 years of higher education to send our little lamb out to the wolves. We'll eat more lentils and postpone retirement a few years to afford another option. This, too, is a rant for another day...

So congrats to all Bostonians who got their first choices, and our condolences to the others that didn't. We'll see you at the private school tours. And the open houses in the 'burbs...

Spring Driving

People like to talk about spring skiing around here. It's the time when there's still plenty of snow left on the slopes, but the weather's getting milder. This means you can ski all day without losing your nose to frostbite.

Well, I'm sure spring skiing is wonderful. But I'd like to talk about another New England sport:  Spring Driving.

Ok, I know it's not really spring yet. It's still nasty. It's February. We still have some quality winter weather ahead of us. But the recent rain/slush storm is similar to what we get in the spring, and it's already changing the roads to what I expect in March and April.

How are spring skiing and driving alike? You get to enjoy a constant slalom course. Rain and slush here somehow spontaneously generate potholes. Not little "bump" potholes, but axle-shattering "BAM!" potholes. They lurk under puddles. You think that puddle is 1/2 inch deep? HA! 6 inches of pothole under there! Kiss your suspension goodbye!

So in fear, you drive around suspicious-looking puddles. Which includes most of them... And they come up on you fast as you drive. So you dodge left. Then right. Then left. Then WAY to the right. Then you see the puddle taking up the ENTIRE lane, and you hold your breath and prepare for the worst. 

If you don't live around here, you might not know how narrow our lanes tend to be. Generally, they're wide enough for a mid-sized sedan. SUV's easily take up the entire width of the lane, and delivery trucks are the equivalent of oversized loads. So swerving to avoid potholes while simultaneously avoiding oncoming traffic is a bit of a challenge. 

I think there ought to be a point system involved in Spring Driving. Certain roads are more prone to spontaneous potholes, and present more of a challenge. Getting to work without hitting a pothole? That's not so hard. Few points should be awarded for that. But getting to church without hitting a pothole? That's a herculean feat. That deserves significant points. And making it to summer without needing a realignment? Your point tally doesn't matter. You know you've won.

So if you visit Boston in the spring and wonder why people appear to be driving drunk, watch carefully. The potholes come up on you fast. Following the weaving driver ahead of you might just help you save your tires.

School Report #6

Last Friday was a day of school visits. Two visits with two preschoolers is just a lot for those two preschoolers. And their Mama. But we persevered, even with an over-tired 3 year old who napped on my shoulder for the first 5 minutes of the second tour.

The first school we visited was the Sumner School, in the heart of Rozzie square. It's literally one block from the hubbub, and the best walking distance of all of the schools. It was also a very large school by local standards, with 540 students. Most of the Roslindale elementary schools are "single-strand", with one class per grade. Sumner has 2 classes of K1, 5(!) classes of K2, and a decreasing number of classes for grades 1-5. The school, like the other schools I've visited, was OLD. The ancient brick construction came with large windows and spacious classes, like the other schools. I'm consistently amazed with the ability of the schools to make old and dreary buildings look positively cheerful and full of life. The school boasted separate rooms for a gym, cafeteria, theater room, and visual arts room.

Here are some of the detailed notes I took:

• They have a full-time nurse.
• Frequent teacher and Principal calls are to be expected.
• The school has many partnerships, including music with Berkelee School of Music, and drama with Brimmer and May School.
• Music opportunities were plentiful, including violin lessons in first grade.
• The school has won awards for innovation.
• Each Kindergarten class has a full-time teacher and a full-time paraprofessional.
• The school does not provide Advanced Work Programming, but does offer less-formal advanced work for appropriate children. Out of 20 kids who qualified for AWP, only 3 left to go to the official program. 
• Each class gets 45 minutes of "special" every day, including art, PE, science, etc.
• The gym teacher historically takes the kids next door to the community center for swim lessons. (But this year, it's being renovated, so he's teaching other things instead.)
• Staff longevity is good, with many teachers volunteering after formal retirement.
• Uniforms are standard, and the local Rozzie uniform shop gives a donation to the school when people buy their uniforms there.
• In 4th grade, students begin a Friday "double-block", where 90 minutes are devoted to specials, including music, woodworking, gardening, knitting, computer, etc.
• The play yard is small, but structured Playworks programming keeps the kids moving.
• The before and after-school program takes 4 year olds, unlike many other programs.

The Assistant Principal did an amazing job of selling the school. The parent coordinator helped with the tour, and made friends with MeToo. The two of them held hands for the last quarter of the tour. Yet again, I left the school with the notion that we'd be very happy there.

School Report #5

The girls and I did our 5th school visit on Friday, at the Mozart school. It's one of our neighborhood K1-5 schools, and another small one, with only one class per grade.

Other than the general coziness of the school , I was struck by the impression I got of the Principal. He was older, a parent, and gave off a serious no-nonsense vibe. He talked about knowing every home owner that abutted the school property (and it's quite a few!), and I didn't doubt it. He talked about knowing every child in the school by name, and I didn't doubt it. He talked about knowing everything that goes on in the school, and I didn't doubt it.

The other great impression I got was that being a parent there could be a full-time job if you wanted it to be. He pointed out some of the things that had been accomplished by parents: grant-application for funding and design/construction of an updated playyard/playground, brochures and website for school marketing (yes, you have to market your schools here in Boston if you want people to apply for them), and updated library with funds for re-stocking/growth. I saw parents helping with crafts. Parents run the PE program. 

My notes were scribbled on a small notepad I had in my pocket, so here are some other details:

• There is a before-school program for K1, but after school they have to go to a different school for afterschool programming.
• Uniforms are worn M-Th.
• "Specials" include visual arts, woodworking, music, science, PE.
• There are designated rooms for music and science, and the library is large enough to do classroom activities in.
• The school is tiny, but the classrooms were large enough, cheerful, and felt airy, with great windows.
• They participate in the yearly Roslindale parade, as part of civic-mindedness.
• The nurse is shared with the local Bates school (discussed in an earlier school report).
• They have a lovely outdoor classroom, which is a garden-ish space with benches and different plants. It's used for every type of class (writing, math, science) across every grade. There was a tiny greenhouse in use, and a compost bin to help maintain the garden.
• They have an urban gardening program, named SLUG (something-something-urban-gardening).

Overall, it's another school that I think the girls could thrive in, and I'd be happy to send them there. I saw many parents that I've seen at other school tours, and it affirms my idea that there are lots of parents like me who care about their children's school options, and would be very active in any school that their/my kid went to. I see this as a good sign for my girls' education. We get a break from school visits until after the New Year. But this Wednesday is a meeting that talks about the process and strategy of applying to schools in Boston. Yes, I said strategy. (sigh). But I want to be fully informed, so I'll go. I'll be happy when this application process is over.

School Report #4

We kicked off our week with another school visit. Bright and early, we visited the Hernandez School, or Escuela Rafael Hernandez K-8. The Hernandez is unique, as it conducts all educational instruction in both English and Spanish. The kids start out alternating 3 days of Spanish instruction with 2 days of English instruction. In 3rd grade, they switch to alternating 2 weeks of instruction in each language. Literacy begins in the child's home language, but children are expected to become functionally bilingual. This would be a marvel in our household, which is firmly monolingual.

The school itself was impressive. The classrooms were large, surprisingly large. The school had lots of space, including an auditorium, a gym, AND a cafeteria! They weren't all smooshed into one multipurpose space like in other schools! They had a full-time PE staff, with competitive sports, including track, for the 4th graders and up. The outside play yard/playground was the biggest I've seen so far. They had gardens, and a plot in the local community garden. Music and performance arts seemed to play a big part of their curriculum and culture. We saw the children practicing for a performance they'll be giving tomorrow. We observed dance and instruments, as well as singing. 

The school is considered a "Discovery School", which means that they can deviate from the standard BPS curriculum. They employ an "expeditionary learning" model of teaching, which from what I can tell, sounds like it's more hands-on and collaborative. (I still need to do more research on this concept.)

The school is an exciting prospect. It would be a challenge for all of us, both the girls and BestestHusband and myself. The language and cultural divides would allow for a significant amount of growth. And this school, with its bilingual education, is something that we could not provide for the girls anywhere else. The 'burbs don't provide the opportunity in public education, and our finances can't provide it at a private school. 

It's considered a city-wide school, so walk zones and BPS reorganization won't affect our ability to go there. The only thing that controls us is the lottery. I'm pretty sure this school will be high on our list.

School Report #3

So I visited my third school in as many days on Friday, the Beethoven school. This school appears to be much more popular. The tour group was large. They had a lot of questions.

The school was large. It was oldish, not as old as the first two I saw. They too did a lot to make brick walls more cheerful. But there was just a lot more space for everything. It didn't feel as cozy, quaint, and cramped as the other schools. It just felt like a school. With an actual auditorium. It's hard to articulate beyond that...

The principal was non-nonsense. She was older than the others I've met. And I got the sense she'd been doing this a long time and was good at it.

The test scores from the school are good. It's a popular school. My girls would fit in there. They would get a fine education. We'd never have to worry about it. It would be much like the elementary schools I went to.

But it's out of our walk zone. It probably won't be available for MeToo after the school re-draws zones and changes the lottery program. It's nice to have as a referent - to compare other less-popular schools to. But I don't think we should rank it highly, because I don't think it's a durable solution for us. It's too bad...

School Report #2

I visited our second elementary school today, Phineas Bates Elementary.

After a hectic day where I worked at 2 different hospitals, I rushed to preschool, picked up the girls, stopped by the house to pick up a container of much-anticipated celery (!?!), and dashed to the other side of Roslindale to find The Bates. We found it. It wasn't too far away, as it is in our 1-mile radius "walk zone".

A teacher met us at the front door. The doors were locked, and we had to ring a doorbell to be let inside. BestestHusband mentioned that the school is in a higher-crime area and has gone into "lockdown" on several occasions. Lovely! 

Once inside, we saw the familiar trappings of an old-school Boston school building, with ugly brick walls and "quaint" windows and trim. Somehow, they did a lovely job of making it look cheerful and inviting. We met first in a Kindergarten classroom. The girls were invited to join in at the play area. They dove right in. The walls were papered with artwork and educational tools. I loved the room. It was full of action, even when we parents were sitting quietly. MeToo wandered around looking at all of the displays and teaching activities. When it was time to take the tour, she cried. She didn't want to leave that room. So the teacher of that class invited all of the kids to stay and play or color. My girls cheerfully waved me off and dove into the crayon box. I loved that teacher. 

The school was much like The Kilmer. It was boxy. It had multiple levels with old stairwells. It had a large playyard and good playground structure. But it had an additional Cafetorium, a mixed-use room that had a curtained stage to create a largish auditorium. 

This school had a large number of partnerships to augment the educational basics, using external community partners to provide additional resources and activities. The student population was not as white as the Kilmer. Or, more importantly, it wasn't as West Roxbury-ish as the Kilmer (ie. more affluent, with more dual-parent families, regardless of race/nationality). In other words, more was offered because the students needed more. The MCAS proficiency average was 22 points lower than the Kilmer, but the SGP (student growth percentage) was also 8 points lower. So the data also suggests that the student population struggles more, and the teachers aren't overcoming it as well. But the school had Advanced Work classes for 4th and 5th grades, equivalent to the Gifted and Talented programs that BestestHusband and I recalled so fondly from our childhoods. In fact, it's the only school in Roslindale that offers Advanced Work classes. So, given likely changes to BPS school assignments, if we want our girls to get AW opportunities in the later grades, it's good to start out here to make sure we can get in.

So again, it's another school I can see the girls going to. Tomorrow I'll visit a third school. Wish me luck.

School Report #1

So I did my first school visit this morning.

Boston has an interesting public school system, where you don't send your kid to a neighborhood school. There is no such thing as a neighborhood school. There are dozens of elementary schools in your "zone" and a lottery system where you rank the schools by preference and hope that your lottery number is good enough to get your kid into a school at the top of the list. You find out in the spring which school your child will attend that next fall. Of course, if you're on a waitlist, you may get in after school starts. Or not at all. It's hard to know, really. It's a bit nerve-wracking for parents like me who like to plan in advance. Or like to feel like we have some semblance of control over our children's education.

We applied last year for K0, which is like public preschool. Of course we didn't get in. 

So this year we're back to try for K1, which is 4 yr old kindergarten. We may not get in. But I want us to at least try. My plan is to visit as many of the schools as possible that are either close or interesting. There are quite a few to visit. Currently, there are 3 zones across Boston, and you attend schools within your geographic zone. This system will remain in place for the 2013-2014 school year, the year that HeyMama could potentially enter K1. But that system will change for the 2014-2015 school year, the year that MeToo could potentially enter K1. We don't know what that system will look like. We may not know until after we register HeyMama for schools. So there will likely be a smaller pool of schools available for MeToo to register for. We're not sure what those schools will be yet. And we may not for a while. The school district may continue the practice of prioritizing younger siblings to be in the same school as the rest of their family members. Or they may not. So we could potentially have 2 kids, just one year apart, attending different schools. The whole thing is like a multivariable equation where the variables shift and change at undetermined intervals. Needless to say, Boston parents are stressed. 

So I visited the Kilmer lower school today. The school is across 2 campuses, with K1-3rd grade at the lower campus and 4th-8th grades at the upper campus. These campuses are 2 miles from each other. But it's still all the Kilmer School. Ok... I did not see the upper campus, but I heard it's very recently renovated. The lower campus, that I visited today, is not newly renovated. Built in the 1940's, it's a bit old-school. Both in appearance, and as I learned from a mom who sent both of her kids there, in practice as well. She describes the school as "structured", with high expectations for performance and behavior. She described standards that are higher than those mandated by the state. The school had the best 3rd grade MCAS reading scores in Boston, and some of the highest in the state. And, unlike other elementary schools, it offers multiple "specials", including art, music, drama, and phys ed. Optional string instrument classes start at the 2nd grade for a nominal fee. Now, growing up, we just called those things "classes". They were just part of the curriculum. (Joy, you're not in the 'burbs anymore! Get over it!) There was no indoor gym, no auditorium. But apparently, this is also normal for BPS. They had a nice school yard, with a fun playground structure. It was in a quiet residential neighborhood. The classrooms were all cheerful, orderly, and vibrant. I could see the girls learning a lot there. Apparently others can, too. It's a popular school. There are 2 classrooms for K1, with a total of 44 seats. In any given year, up to half of those seats can be filled with siblings of older students there. And there's always a wait list.

It's a school that I would be thrilled to send HeyMama to. But it's a bit further away, out of our "walk zone" (an area that is a 1-mile radius from our house and grants some preferential seating to kids in a school's neighborhood). So any school assignment changes would likely take it out of the running for MeToo the following year. Dang.

The Assistant Principal and I had a wonderful conversation about why we wanted our kids to grow up in a city school. We can offer our kids educational enrichments at home. They won't suffer academically, regardless of where they go to school. They will travel and see the world to learn history, geography, art. But we can't offer them the life lessons of growing up with kids that are different from them:  kids that speak different languages at home, kids that come from different religious backgrounds, kids that struggle with the challenges of poverty and broken homes. There is something to be learned from growing up in a diverse city that we can't provide as parents. And isn't that my job as a parent? To provide my kids with as many advantages as possible? I know it sounds strange, but perhaps putting my children in urban schools actually does give them more than putting them in homogenous and safe suburban schools would. I don't know...

There are 2 more schools that I plan to visit this week, with more scheduled over the next month. I'll report in regularly, mostly to just help myself organize the info. Sometimes choice can be a great thing, but at the moment, it feels like quite a burden.

What the Big Dig Did Right

Bostonians can't help but notice what the Big Dig did wrong. The construction phase was hell. I'll never forget the horror and helplessness I felt as poorly-marked detours sent me further and further away from the airport. And yes, I did miss that flight.


Taking an urban highway system and moving it underground is a Herculean undertaking fraught with countless obstacles. Subways lines had to be avoided. Tunnels had to be sunk into the shipping channels. Detours and even road directions changed daily. If someone asked, "Was this road here yesterday?", chances were good that it actually wasn't. This is bound to cause some confusion and headache.


And the outrage and scandal continues as defects and graft are uncovered. The ceiling tile that fell and killed a woman was due to contractors installing cheap substandard bolts. The pavement is also substandard, and slowly turning our main highway into a gravel road. Behind-schedule, over-budget, poorly-made, and plagued by accusations of corruption, it's a textbook case of how NOT to do a public works project.


But they did do a few things right...


When they buried the swath of elevated highway that stretched north/south through town, they were left with a continuous stretch of open space - valuable open space in the middle of a tightly-packed city. And instead of selling it all off for profit, they preserved it as urban green space. They turned it into a string of parks. And then they sprinkled it with art, sprinkler parks, and a carousel.


The result is stunning.

The girls exploring the "Urban Garden"

The girls climbing the "Tree of Knowledge"

Not sure the name of this sculpture, but BestestHusband called it "Giant's Coatrack"

We're obviously not giants. We need a different coatrack.

HeyMama enjoyed climbing the pumpkins and jumping off.

There used to be an ugly green highway here. Now there's a big tree.

Despite all of the green space, we are still in the city.

Plenty of room to run and roam.

MeToo kept gravitating back to the "Tree of Knowledge". Not a bad thing...

I'd love to spend a day just exploring its length. We would have happily stayed longer if we'd packed a dinner. We'll add that to our list of things to do this summer...