A Police Escort for School Pride

Sept 2011

Once there was a little girl who loved school. She loved the pointy pencils. She loved standing in line and riding the bus. But the little girl developed a problem: school stressed her out. The bright eyed little girl with all the answers was a wreck.

I kept thinking it was a phase. Kids change, and anyway, institutions will do that to you, but we all survived right? I kept saying, "public school was good enough for me..." I was comforted when I visited her school by the happy atmosphere and nice teachers. My comfort was short lived, however, when a surly dark faced Alli came home from school and slammed her door shut. Was this the same girl who used to erupt into uncontrollable giggles at dinner and run screaming through the house?

I decided to apply to a few charter schools. Alli didn't get into a single one, but she was number 9 on the waiting list at a school called Renaissance Academy about twenty minutes across town. The Lottery director said Alli had a chance to get in, but it wasn't likely until the week school started.

Well, the first day of school came and went with no word. Then the director told me there was one slot opening up, but she would have to contact the 8 other candidates and each would have 5 days to decide. I did the math. That would take months.

Then, miracle of miracles, I got an e-mail on Saturday from the school. Alli had been going to her old school for five days at this point. The e-mail said that the following Mon they would award Alli a spot at Renaissance if I came in to sign some papers. I was a little confused, though, because they also sent the e-mail out to 300 other people...

Alli was upset at first but then decided that she would like to try the new school. Think of Maddie and Anne, I told her. Think what this will mean for them. She was scared but brave. Mon morning came. I got up, got Alli off to her old school, and called Renaissance to let them know I was coming over to sign the papers.

This is what the secretary told me: 'The waiting list is now dissolved. It's first come first served and whoever gets here first gets the spots available in all the grades.' And then: 'I think we've already had a couple of second grade moms come in this morning.' (It was 7:30 am by the way.)

This is when something deep inside me started raging for that lost little girl with the bright blue eyes on her first day of Kindergarten now two years past. I heard someone say once that you should try to keep the crazy in the bottle. Um, it got out. I threw Maddie and Anne into the car in their pj's without giving them breakfast. We're talking no shoes, bedhead, crusty faces... Not to mention my scary attire. Well the three of us headed off at top speed Cruella Deville style: you know, when she's got the white knuckles hunched over the steering wheel, teeth bared. That was me. I had to fix my kid and nothing was stopping me.

I got over to Lowe's and started heading up the road with the huge dip when, what do you know, a police car pulls out behind me, lights flashing. 'What the heck' I thought, froth flying from my rabid mouth, 'I'm only going 60 in a 35 zone! Damn speed traps.'

The police officer got calmly out of his car while I rolled my window down and started hanging out of it to shout at him, "I have to get to that school!" I start frantically pointing up the hill. "They're going to give her spot away, and it's her spot. I have to get over there!"

When the officer finally got to my window, I yelled: "You can give me a ticket, just do it at the school. I have to get there right now!"

Well, he laughed a little (can you say, future dinner table conversation?) and let me go. "Just slow down and be safe," he said. Ya, I sped right up again as soon as I was out of sight.

Once I got to the school, I lugged my bedraggled kids out of the car and marched into the school office. Now you have to picture this a minute: Here's a frumpy mom with no makeup and a gaggle of dirty shoeless kids charging up to the front desk asking about the second grade opening. I don't want to give it away, but the frumpy mom is about to start yelling and making a scene.

Okay, so back to the story. The nice secretary says cheerily, "That spot was filled earlier today. Sign here and she'll be number two on the waiting list!" She smiles like this is good news, at which point I had a total out of body experience. That little ball of rage inside exploded. Massively.

"No, no, no NO!" I shouted. "I was told I would be contacted when the spot came open. Then you contacted me. Now you're saying it was anyone's spot? This isn't right!" My fist came down on the desk after every few words to emphasize my point. As if that was necessary.

I guess it's true that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. I shouldn't know that because I'm ALWAYS polite, even to strangers selling stuff over the phone. The principal came out and quickly ushered us into his office to "talk". I don't think he wanted the homeless people scaring off any students.

He made small talk with me while the director lady pushed some papers around for an eternity. Then he went into her office while I waited. Then he came back. More niceties, and he was off to her office again. I was there with my sticky kids for an hour while Alli's fate was being decided.

Finally, he came back with the verdict. There was another seat. Someone else was offered the spot five days before. If they didn't call by the end of the day, it was Alli's.

Oh, joy! I was so happy. We drove home (very slowly) in triumph, gave a nice wave to the police car waiting for another sucker, I mean enforcing the law, and finally had breakfast. No more crazy. I stuffed it right back in the bottle where it belongs.

Alli did get that spot. She actually started the very next day, and we haven't looked back. The bright eyed girl with the pencil sharpener is back, and every day she tells me about her new adventures. She's made so many friends and learned all about a bunch of cool stuff. Just yesterday they made a model of a plant using candy and the info they'd studied all week about seeds and stamens etc. She ate it before I got to see it, but I guess there was a gumdrop seed that they pushed down into pudding and topped with a twizzler and other candy pieces. I don't know where they come up with this stuff. Another day she got in the car with a Japanese sand garden she was raking with a plastic fork.

All I know is that I made it happen. And probably the Lord. I don't know if he approved of my methods, but I could feel him supporting me. And after all these months at this treasure of a school, we are starting to plan for Maddie to go in the fall. I can't wait to watch her learn and grow like Alli has. Sometimes life is really, really good.