The Bright Side

The good thing about how much I hate our current ECFE class is that it has focused my attention on what I do and do not want in a school for Lily. At Hale, the school we've gone to for most of our ECFE classes, I took for granted a lot of wonderful things, and I guess I assumed all schools would be like this. Because they should be.

At Hale, when I come back from the parent discussion time, I usually get some comments from the teacher or assistant about how Lily did that day, and what she did, like one time she really wanted stories, and so she sat with several other kids and listened to the teacher read stories, and then she and the other kids played reading to each other. At Wilder (the class we're in now), I never get a report, and it feels like the teacher is kind of distant. He's very focused on preparing the kids for school, getting them to all do one thing together, and follow directions, and even find their name tag (with mom's help) for attendance. Attendance? Recognizing letters? Excuse me, they're two. TWO! They should be playing! He even has them do exercises, and tells them it's important to exercise. Well, yeah, but do we have to make it a chore? Why can't you just put some music on or sing and have them dance around and hop and run?

Then there's little things, like having windows in the classroom (none at Wilder), and knowing that if I leave something in class by accident, it will be there next time with our names on it. I've lost several things at Wilder, never to be seen again. My notes from discussion, a binky, and who knows what else. The teachers just don't seem to be personally involved with us. It's like the class is a blob of students instead of individual kids and parents.

Oh, and how about this little gem: during parent discussion time at Wilder in the first class, the teacher explained what the procedure was in case of a lock down. A lock down. As in if there was a "situation," all classrooms would be locked until the building was deemed clear of the "threat." Kind of like in prison. Or Columbine. Jesus. I mean, yeah, okay, it's good to know that if I leave the discussion room of my own volition, against the better advice of the teacher, the teacher in the kids' classroom will not unlock that door to let me in to see my child, because he would be protecting the children against the "threat." So I'd be stuck in the halls, because nobody would let me in any doors.

When asked if there had ever been a "threat," the teacher said rather too nonchalantly that there had been one the previous year and no one was hurt. When asked for more details she glossed over it very quickly and moved on to the next thing on her list.

I don't want Lily in a school where this is a top priority. I mean, of course safety is a top priority, but you know what I mean.

So, having a fire lit under my butt from this experience of "bad school," I sent in the application this week for Lily's preschool. We went to a preschool fair a couple of months ago and it was interesting, but it seemed rather in the distant future. Not anymore.

Last week we went to an information meeting for a specific school that we thought sounded nice, and it was fabulous. I want to go be a student there. It's Willow House Preschool, Waldorf and Lifeways inspired. It's all about nurture. The school is actually in a house, or is a house, I should say, since the whole house is the school, including the backyard, where they have a fabulous actual willow house, check it out:



Isn't it wonderful? They spend a lot of time outside, which is great. The teachers (they are two women, both with teaching backgrounds) said they only stay indoors if the temp is below zero outside. So they go out in the rain! (In raincoats, of course). There's a K-3 school across the street with 3 playgrounds, and they go on field trips a couple blocks away to a park with a lake.



They do lots of handwork, like sewing and knitting, and making little gnomes and sheep from wool. Ah, I feel happy just thinking about it. So that's the bright side. It's very clear to me now that this school we are going to send Lily to is a very special place, and I won't be taking it for granted (that's why I sent in our application the day of the kid-hitting discussion). So my response was positive, you could say. I've been venting here for a couple of hours now, and I hope you aren't bored reading it all. I just really needed to put it all down in black and white (or in this case, green and beige). Yes, that icky stuff really happened, and then look, over here, a fabulous counterpoint!



Oh, and another response I have to this ickiness is that I'm taking a community ed class on making a "Magic Fairy Tree House." Here's a sample of what the teacher made:


Okay, I really have to stop now. I hope all this long-winded rambling makes sense in the morning (I haven't slept yet--havin' a headache).