Charter School Drama

Anyone who knows me knows I -love- my kids’ school. I’ve blogged about some of the amazing things they do. I am super heartbroken, though, about all the politics and drama. Several excellent teachers were recently let go without warning or explanation. Now it feels like we’ve got two camps battling each other: the business/leadership end of the school, and the teachers and founding parents. The parents who are most involved in the leadership and grown-up meetings appear to support the terminations. The parents who spent most of their time working with the teachers, naturally support the teachers. The founding parents who put their blood, sweat, and tears into this are extremely concerned, and the parents (like me) who haven’t spent as much time at the school this year are confused and wondering whether it’s worth the drama.

I heard many comments at last night’s board meeting (and I was extremely proud of my son for deciding to comment himself!) but one of them I heard at a meeting-before-the-meeting rather surprised me. Something along the lines of, “If we do that, then they win.” And I thought, “Who are THEY? What are THEY?” — yeah, so on the rare occasion when I do think in words, it apparently comes in the form of song lyrics, thank you Jem! Whatever. Anyway, what ever happened to “WE” as a whole?

It feels like each group has been handed 250 jigsaw pieces when in fact the whole puzzle needs all 1000 pieces. A successful charter school needs good teachers, a good administration, wise board leadership, and willing parents, who can all take a step back and see that the big picture: it is all about the kids. We’d work better as a team, and you don’t even have to take my word for it.

Two stories

“There are two stories of your life. One is the informative, and the other is the narrative…” -Mary

She says the story I like to tell myself is that I’m ridiculously happy and I play with my kids all the time, “But the informative story is that you spend most of your time working really hard, and you deal with so much heartbreak and sadness…”

I have no idea how a good mother should respond when her eight year old says something like that. Maybe a good mother would never have to, because her girl should only ever see a strong, happy woman. Still, I don’t think my reality is as rough as she perceives it, and if it is, I don’t know that I want to believe it. But I don’t want to be dishonest, either, with her or with myself.

Maybe the trick is to find magic even in the difficult facts, and to remember that the best stories are always tough in the middle.


Mary: “Ewwww! I just found the most disturbing thing on the carpet. It looks like a dead bug.”
Me: “You know what I do when I find a dead bug on the carpet?”
Mary: “What?”
Me: “I vacuum it up.”
Mary: “Good idea. I’ll do that. But first let’s get a really good look at it.”

Actually, I lied. Sometimes I photograph them first. :-T What drives us to allow other people to experience the gross-out with us?

High hopes

Overheard: “Keep your hopes high!  Well, but not too high… (dramatic pause for reconsideration) Actually? Keep your hopes very high. Higher than the high dive!”


I’m always finding little notes like this around the house, and found this one in the car as I was cleaning it out. Mary never seems to keep one journal, but I’m thinking a scrapbook (in the most literal sense) might be fun…

"Wow, I have nukuler bogers anda nasty cough!"
To do: teach her the proper spelling and pronunciation of NUCLEAR

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