Weeks Five and Six

I think that Powe is going to work out.

It was in the late afternoon, when pianos could be played, when Samson is sleeping, and when you are one and the sister and I am four and the other sister, and you are going to wear the pink dress because you are two and I am the big sister.  It was in between all of this and some of a few other things, that John let us know what is really going on down in Mr. D’s class.

“This school is so much harder than last year,” John announces from a spot next to the

Advertisement

Third and Fourth Weeks

John is settling into school. He skips along the court in the backyard when he gets home. He has friends.  He likes his teacher.  He likes having rules. He really likes having rules.

In the last two weeks, I feel like I have had my first opportunity to see some of the decisions that our teachers are trying to make.   On Monday evening this week, we went to an emergency meeting of the parents.  When we arrive, a group of parents are meeting with the principal, some administrative staff, and about 11 teachers.

The parents are here because they are upset.  Susie’s been following it more closely than I have, but I have a general sense of what this will be about. We are going to talk about curriculum.

This is where, as Susie would say, “the rubber hits the road.” People talk about equity and opportunity in society.  Well, this is where that occurs. This is a Title 1 school.   Tonight’s meeting is made up of people who are on that frontier.  These parents aren’t drawn from the mainstream of the school’s parents.  We all look alike, for example.  We all speak English.  I would bet that we all 

That’s Racin’

Sometimes you need to leave your Prius in the parking lot at Whole Foods and take your family racing.

“Hurry up,” I said, “the start is going to happen, and they’re going to do it without us.” I hoist  John up on my shoulders.   It is already dark, but I can see cars moving on the track, just beyond the shadow set off by the stands at Ace Speedway, in  Altamahaw, North Carolina.  I doubt that impatience is going to help.  I pay for our four tickets (all for $18!) and navigate through the opening.  I high step up the risers.  We get a seat behind the starter. Our feet rest on the seats one row below, and our arms rest upon the aisle one row up. Down to our left, a heavy-set woman stares at us.  She is here with her daughter.  The cars breeze by left to right.  It carries the smoke from her cigarette over our way.

Tonight, we are not apartment managers, meat processors, or research directors.  We are race fans.  The sign says “Welcome.” We are hear to smell oil, to see them go three-wide, to

New Week, Not the Same as the Old Week

It was just a fantastic weekend – a good ride on Sunday, all day with a beat up pickup and a load of compost on Saturday, and a concert in the mix, too.  But, all good things do come to an end.  Come Monday, it was time for school again.

Day One

John has a positive day.  “It was a nine on a scale of one to ten,” he tells me at dinner.  “No, it was a 9 point 1.”

Today’s special is science.  That is good, because John has been waiting for it since our visit 8 days ago during parent’s open house.  The science curriculum in North Carolina is designed by the state.  Teachers have no choice in how they teach it.  Today, though, John’s in luck, because the first