Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Our tax dollars at work & #$@* colds

I swear I won't write everyday about being a mom to teenagers, but this really irked me.  I had one of my 15 hour days yesterday.  Get up at 6, take Em to school and myself to work, work till 3:30, go to class until 6:45, go to Liv's school orientation until 8, go find the temporary location for Liv's school, get home at 9.

Anyway this charter school is to help kids who've been screwing up.  Olivia's pattern has been to just stop going to school because she doesn't feel like going.  This is her last chance, so to speak.  So this school is a charter school, this is its first year, and its been just a clusterf----well you get the idea, but I'm trying to be supportive.  Its based on this NovaNet technology - translation:  you sit in front of a computer all day and take an exam at the end.  That's your class.  The goal is to push the kids through, get them to pass, and get them their diplomas regardless of what they learn or get out of it. 

Anyway, we were late getting there.  That's just my M.O.  I'm always late.  Thank goodness we missed the first part of it because I really would have had a hard time keeping my mouth shut. 

The principal is giving this orientation, and he starts talking about schoolsupplies.  You need a notebook and something to write with.  (Yes, one would hope you'd need at least that.)  He goes on.  The reason you need to take notes is that you should remember the stuff you're learning (I'm nodding.).  Then he goes on to say and besides that, you'll want to have those notes handy for the exam so you'll pass, because you really don't want to have to take it more than once.  (RECORD SCRATCHING NOISE)  Say what?!?!  Yes because they'll really be ready for college thinking they can always have an open book or notes to look at for exams.  (?!?!?!)

Then he's telling these kids its groovy if they want to stay working at the McDonald's their whole lives, as long as that's what they really want to do.  They'll only get workstudy (class credit for working) if the job they have is in their career of choice.  Basically, you really don't have to have any goals, just get through school and have fun at your McJob.  (oh hell no)

By this time Olivia is squeezing my upper arm really really hard while saying very quietly 'shhhhuttttup kris' through her teeth, because she knows I hate that crap.  How in the HELL are you supposed to get ready for life thinking someone's gonna help you cut corners and break rules to get what you need?  There are no people out there who hold your hand and guide you through every challenge you're gonna face. 

Why is it that some (notice the 'some' I'm not going to generalize) teachers or 'educational professionals' think that its ok to baby these kids and keep them from reaching higher because the standards are so low?  They ARE capable of more, they ARE capable of success and they ARE capable of doing something far more meaningful than flipping burgers their whole lives.  errrrrgh this is part of the reason why our kids are walking around with this sense of entitlement - like we owe them everything.  We don't.  Life doesn't.  Respect is earned, so is an education and so is success.  No one's gonna hand it to you.  Yet, that's what this school is teaching them.

ANYWAYS I kept my mouth shut for almost the whole thing.  At the end, I quietly approached Mister Principle and asked him how he was going to get these kids - no actually just MY kid - ready for college.  Reading, writing, researching, study skills....he really didn't have an answer for me except that he'll look into putting Olivia into some advanced courses.  Oy vey.  So I'm going to continue to be as supportive as I can.  The ball's in her court and its up to her to finish this time and succeed in general.  The really cool thing is that she's finally made a friend who's worth a crap.  This girl's working full time and going to college.  Yes college.  Real college even.  Thank goodness she finally found a role model.

I can't wait until she's parenting a teenager and the big light bulb comes on.  I'll be doing what my dad did.  (neener neener neeeeener.... ha ha ha haaaaaaa ha)


Kayla's sick already, and now I've got 'it'.  Another groovy part of parenthood.  The truancy laws are so strict here you practically have to send your sick kids to school or you start getting letters, etc.  The end result is more sick kids at school, meaning your kids get sick more often, teachers get sick more often, and mom and dad get sick more often.  Kayla's been in school a whole week and we're already both with colds.  The difference - when you're older and you get a cold you feel like you're gonna die.  I feel like a truck hit me and I'm grouchy and I need to be under covers.  Where am I??  At work, so I  can spread my joy.  heh.


Aileen I think your mom wants grandkids solely for the sake of The Curse.  The Curse works, its potent, and the results are usually twice what you think they'll be.  It usually goes like this:  "I hope when you have children, you have one that's just like you!"  Except you usually have kids who are not even remotely close to you - they're worse.  Far worse.  They'll take what you did, ie ditching school, partying, listening to bad music... and take it to a level you never thought possible.

She has evil intent, trust me.  She wants your big light bulb to come on.  She wants you to suffer through all that same torment.  Her biggest joy is that with grandkids she can have fun with them and spoil them rotten and then when she gets sick of them she can send them back, stinky diapers, attitudes and all.

Its all revenge, I swear.  Stay strong.  She's just upset because you've found an out.  If/when you do have kids, you will have onejust like you, but worse.  Its a proven fact, and just like me with my kids, she's wanting to go HA!  I told you so!


This turned into way more of a rant than I intended, really.  It's the Dayquil, I'm sure.  (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

1 comment:

kristeenaelise said...

ACK I just realized that sounded like something my dad would say.  Shoot me now.