Debby

the tyranny of middle school choice

Sun, 12 May 2013 13:39:00 GMT

A few years ago Barry Schwartz wrote a book called The Tyranny of Choice about how too much choice actually causes misery. Here's a summary I found on the net:

We presume that more choices allows us to get exactly what we want, making us happier. While there is no doubt that some choice is better than none, more may quickly become too much. Drawbacks include:

Regret: More options means constantly considering the option we didn't choose--decreasing satisfaction overall.

Adaptation: By becoming accustomed to whatever we've chosen, the availability to more options decreases our satisfaction with our choice.

Unattainable expectations: With increased options, our expectation escalates until we constantly expect to get precisely what we want. Thus anything less than perfect is disappointing, and we blame ourselves (as the decision makers) for our unhappiness.

Paralysis: Too many options can decrease the likelihood of making any decision at all.

All of this came into play as we tried to pick a middle school for Rose. And even though I knew too much choice was causing me stress and anxiety, I had trouble pretending those choices weren't there.

Her middle school options were:

A. The local public middle school. We have one dear friend there doing fine. They offer Spectrum, which means working one year ahead, and Rose would have qualified for it. The library produces a fabulous list of book suggestions that made us excited about being there. She was guaranteed a spot in this school, and they would provide transportation. DOWNSIDE: the school is large and they do a terrible job "selling" it at their open house. You shouldn't judge a school by their sales job, but both times I visited I left feeling overwhelmed by hallways and crowds and underwhelmed by the staff.

B. The local option school, aka, the hippie school. We have several friends currently going here. It is a small school with a very caring, nurturing vibe--very much like our current elementary school. The school puts a lot of emphasis on developing the whole child. They follow many of my tenants of good education, like cross disciplinary work. They also have camps together to build community and go on ski trips. When I listened to the principal speak, I felt that warm thrill of recognition; we shared values about learning. DOWNSIDE: Rose was not guaranteed a spot here. There is a lottery system, and you could get all psyched for this place and not get in. They don't provide transportation, though since we have so many friends and neighbors going here and it is only 10 minutes from our house, this wasn't a huge factor. Because it is so small, there aren't a lot of elective options. And it is so small. When I visited when Rose was in 4th grade, I thought oh how cozy. When I visited when she was in 5th grade, I started to worry that the size might not let her grow. The academics have a reputation for being fine, not stellar, especially the math.

C. The option school across town. I didn't even go look at this one because of the transportation issue, but all the moms on the playground were talking about how it combined the nurturing values with excellent academics. And, it did not seem to have a waiting list.

D. The APP program at the big new school. Oh, tracking. I have read a lot of research about how tracking hurts everyone, not just those stuck in the low tracks, and yet, when my daughter tested into a track that put her working at two grades above level, I jumped to explore this option. The big new school is just gorgeous--bright shiny walls, bright shiny windows. It's big but in an exciting lots to explore way, not the same feel as option A at all. I just can't, with a straight face or clear conscious, make the argument that at this school she would be with other academically focused engaged children moving at a pace appropriate for her, because that has been true currently at her non-tracked school and plenty of those kids are going to options A, B, and C.

And yet, when I saw the book reports the kids were doing and compared them to what she might be asked to do at some of the other schools, there was no question this was more challenging and probably more stimulating. She is guaranteed a spot, they do provide transportation, and her cousin also tested in. My sister was leaning heavily toward this school. We don't have to make all our school decisions together, but it has worked well for us so far. Rose already knows seven people going to this school.

DOWNSIDE: Rose is prone to anxiety and putting her in an environment where some students are guaranteed to be more advanced and possibly faster at getting material than she is, in an atmosphere where she will be asked to push herself, might not be the mentally healthiest choice. I am opposed to homework. The others schools wouldn't have much. This one will. There's a strong chance that the APP program will be moved out of the shiny new building next year. Going to the school that only some people can get into feels elitist. I worry that I will then be surrounded by parents who think their precious snowflake needs lots of special privileges. I worry that I will become one of those parents.

E. The very expensive private hippy school. When I asked my sister, really, what was the difference between the public hippy school and this, she said, DOWNSIDE: 25,000 dollars. John said hell would pretty much have to freeze over. I'm sure they actually have a lot to offer, but we didn't really think too hard about it.

F. The private much less expensive Montessori school. They were very sweet. They're nearby. They have a strong focus on art. The kids all work on a farm. We are currently in a Montessori school, so it would be an easy transition. Did I mention how sweet our student guides and the head of the school were? DOWNSIDE: Frankly, at this point, I was leaning hard to option D, so I didn't think too hard about this one either. It's very small and quite a bit of money, and I don't have a passion for it.

G. A dozen other excellent private schools in our area. We did take one tour of a girl's school, but between the cost, the transportation, and the chance of not getting in, we didn't seriously consider them.

H. homeschooling. Every time I mention this option, my friends look at me as though I'm crazy. But homeschooling is a serious option here in Seattle. There are a ton of resources. It's not like you are sitting at home teaching your kid. It's more like you are driving them from class to class. When I heard she could do drama at The Seattle Children's Theater half days, I was very impressed. I happen to be an English teacher and John is a math teacher. We are exceptionally well set for this gig. DOWNSIDE: Well duh, being a teacher instead of a parent to a tween, ugh. No time for paid work for me. Less time for poetry writing for me. More work maintaining the all critical tween social life.

So, after 8 school tours (some we did twice), a lot of soul searching, talking to friends, and consulting our gut, we decided on Hamilton, the APP school in the big shining building. Now, it's hard to hear about the wonderful options at other schools (adaptation), and I have to keep reminding myself that there is no perfect school (unattainable expectations), that it is all going to fine. And it is all going to be fine. If it's a struggle, it's important that Rose learn how to cope with struggles. If it's a huge ridiculous miserable struggle, we do have other options.

David's buzz cut

Fri, 3 May 2013 17:38:00 GMT

David wanted a buzz cut. His friend Sam had one. Why couldn't he? Why not? I have no strong feelings about his hair, and it grows back. So, Tuesday, Sam's mom put David in her kitchen, wrapped him in a garbage bag, and buzzed off his hair. David grinned the whole time. It was so much fun. He and Sam were just giddy with the fun of it all.

I snapped lots of pictures and tried not to think my son looked like a skin head. It's true I associate buzzed cut men with the military, right wing hoodlums, and that boy in third grade who came in crying because his father force shaved his head. Having David choose to shave his hair forced me to think about my assumptions. He's still the same kid--full of questions, fixated on books on cd, eager to play outdoors without a coat, sometimes kind, sometimes obnoxious--but with the new hair cut, you can see his biggest grins.

Crash

Fri, 3 May 2013 17:23:00 GMT

Last week-end, the kids and I saw Crash at the Seattle Children's Theater. It's based on the book by Spinelli and was rated for eight and up, so I was a little nervous about David attending. It's about bullying in eighth grade, so the bullying is pretty cruel and about issues he might not understand.

Not to worry. David was on the edge of his seat the entire time. Even better, in the question and answer part, when someone asked how Crash was able to make another character move in slow motion, they asked the kids if they could answer. They called on David, and he said, "It was in Crash's mind," which is the right answer and shows he could follow sophisticated staging.

I thought the show was wonderful. I even ended up crying. The kids have seen another play about bullying, which made me grit my teeth because it was so didactic and preachy. This show had characters and plot, and I believed the transformations. We plan on reading the book together next.

Napowrimo

Fri, 3 May 2013 17:09:00 GMT

I completed Napowrimo! That's writing a poem day all April. Even more, the organizers offered completely optional prompts, and I did every one of them.

I'd say about a third of the poems I wrote completely suck and will never be seen again, a third have potential, and interestingly, a third might be too revealing to go public. I loved that the prompts forced me to write in form, especially forms I'd never tried before and that they had me just trying some goofy stuff like want ads and fortune cookie fortunes.

I was feeling guilty about counting the poem I whipped out sitting in the car for five minutes before I picked up the kids from Hebrew School, but other days I spent hours on one poem, and the very fact that I was writing during time than normally would be completely unproductive was a good deal.

the last hurrah is a hurrah

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 20:53:00 GMT

For our last official act of spring break, we had an eight-year-old friend come spend the night. This was actually my birthday gift to the mom. The three kids get along ok, but I often have to intervene and make sure everyone is playing together nicely. So, I thought I was going to have to earn my mitzvah.

Nope, from the moment M. walked in the door all was good, all was amazing. The kids took the house Rose built and turned it into a submarine, complete with computer and periscope. After that voyage (which they cleaned up), we all had baked potatoes for dinner, which we've never had before, and no one complained about. Then I don't know what they played because I was upstairs writing poetry for the first time all week. I did hear them playing a really cool drama game where they pretended to be drunk penguins driving a car. Now, they are all camped out in a tent downstairs and perhaps they'll go to sleep eventually. All I can say is for the last three hours there has been no whining, bickering, complaining, or crying, and I feel great.

spring break accomplishments

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 14:09:00 GMT

David's major accomplishments for spring break:

1. He listened to the entire Wayside School collection, probably nine hours of material. Now, he's listening to the Hobbit.
2. He found a science project he wanted to do, politely asked for help, did not get frustrated at my awkward help, solved the notch problem with a lot of masking tape, and is now shooting his homemade bow and arrows around the house.
3. He almost passed the swim test. He had to do two widths of the Ballard Pool and got three quarters of the way done. Of course, he was disappointed not to make it which made him rude to me which made me cry after an entire week of people taking out their frustrations on me, but we all recovered and this is way farther than he got last time.
4. He ate family dinner with minimal complaining four of the last five nights. It doesn't hurt that family dinner was broiled chicken, potluck, hamburgers and French fries, bacon and corn bread, and sushi.

Rose's major accomplishments of spring break:

1. She built a house. She decided to build a house, drew out all the measurements, used up five rolls of duct tape taping the cardboard pieces together and roofless though it may be, we now have a second house in our house.
2. She was remarkably pleasant, helpful, and accommodating, especially given the fact that her two best friends were out of town. We saw friends briefly at jazzercise, but, really, she made it through the entire break with no playdates.
3. When I started to cry in the pool, she came over to comfort me, and then she took over the parenting of David, giving him lots of TLC.
4. She is doing a major clean out of her room.

My major accomplishments of spring break:

1. David's passport application is in.
2. I bought two water bottles to make up for the five I lost this year.
3. I exercised 10 hours and that's even with skipping the dance last night.
4. Each day I planned at least one activity the kids really wanted to do, paid for it, and got us to and fro with snacks.
5. I breathed in. I breathed out. It didn't always keep me calm and happy. I read a lot of stupid romance novels and spent way too much time on stupid facebook links. I didn't write any poetry. I went into distress over Boston. I breathed in. I breathed out.

some good moments

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 18:40:00 GMT

We went to the park at dusk. Our shadows stretched halfway down the sidewalk. Rose and I rode our newly tuned up bikes from the miserable trip to the bike store Monday. Our helmets fit. Our tires were inflated. The trip had cost us nothing but tension. Now, we happily rode. David happily scootered. At the park, the kids played together and were scooped up by other kids looking to play. They made up games on the jungle gym and got to hit whiffle balls. Rose forgot her jacket, but we found it the next morning.

Rose thanked me for making muffins. David echoed her thanks.

On the way to get David's passport renewed (which we did quickly and pleasantly), we started a game where any bad behavior--whining, perpetual asking of why, bad tone of voice, etc.--would mean one kilometer of running. Rose figured out that meant three times around the block, so she earned a half a kilometer back for quick thinking. They jumped at this carrot and stick approach and for several hours no one threatened to hit anyone else and every request for a glass of water was extraordinarily courteous. My tension level dropped.

Before we went into Value Village I told the kids all the behavior I did not want to see--no begging me for toys, no promising to use their own money to buy things I didn't want to buy, no whining period. There was none. We got David an entire new wardrobe including a sweater he already loves.

Rose and I spend 1.5 hours cleaning her room. We got through the bookshelf. When Rose cleans her rooms, she goes through every item deciding whether to keep it, move it to general use, or get rid of it. We cleared two shelves completely. E. Nesbit is going downstairs. A handful of plastic horses are going to mommom's house. She told all the stories about the horses.

Both kids practiced the piano on their own intiative.

the green and purple hair dying disaster

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 14:02:00 GMT

Note to self: don't trust everything you read on the internet. Just because their lovely model can die her hair with kool-aid, doesn't mean you can.

You'll recall this is a repeat attempt. This time we tried it with eight packets of kool-aid instead of one. I'll frankly admit that my exhaustion and general sense of being completely done with demands made the putting on of the kool-aid less fun than it could have been. I just had no energy to deal with Rose constantly swirling her protective sheet around the kitchen--before she even had any hair dye in.

But the real problem came at 10:15 at night. I was coming up to bed when I heard David crying. His scalp itched; the kool-aid was flaking; he just couldn't deal. I went into "barf in the middle of the night" mode. I was very calm, very supportive. We rinsed the kool-aid out. (Take a moment to picture green and purple rivulets going down his body.) We changed his pillow case covers. We got him back in bed. And then John and I were feeling the pain of knowing David would be mourning the loss of his green and purple hair and two hours short of sleep the next day.

His hair has colored highlights in the right light. He was actually pretty functional the next day. I'm going to just spraypaint them next time.

the moisture festival

Sun, 14 Apr 2013 20:41:00 GMT

The staycation continues with the Moisture Festival. It's hard to describe the Moisture Festival to those who have not gone, how to explain that we watched five guys play air guitar, and they were great? The Moisture Festival is a modern day very Seattle vaudeville show performed in a beer warehouse. We saw aerialists with angst, jugglers, magicians with the corniest jokes this side of the 1950's, and the aforementioned air guitarists who also did kungfu fighting in slow motion, which was brilliant.

At the intermission David started whining that he wanted to go home. What he meant to say, and I'm sure in a super polite voice, was he was hungry and the loud music was bothering his ears. We gave him a bar and some earplugs, and he left the event raving about how wonderful it was.

David actually said please and thank you and used a very nice voice in the last half hour. I'm trying to count those moments and not focus on how whining makes the most innocuous of questions offensive.

step away from the book

Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:29:00 GMT

David listened to Wayside School on c.d. for five hours straight this afternoon. Yup, he loved it, and you he was a basketcase afterwards.

family movie night

Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:25:00 GMT

Several months ago David came to us with a proposition. If they gave up some t.v. during the week, could we have a family movie night? He had obviously been learning about negotiation in school, and he had his proposal all written out. It seemed reasonable and fair and fun. We said yes.

The first movie night did not go well. The children had conniptions over everything--what movie, how much t.v. time they were losing--it went on and on. So, after surviving that, John and I initiated the rule that he and I were choosing the movie.

Tonight, as part of the on going staycation, we watched Chicken Run. Hilarious! Lots of slapstick humor and tension filled escapes. We all laughed and ate popcorn.

However, the minute the movie was over, the children decided I was a complete failure as a mother. Last night I started reading a book to David that I had suggested I read to both of them. Rose did not want a summary to catch up; she wanted us to restart the book. David started bawling when I said we would have Rose read it on her own to catch up and we would read a different book tonight. Bawling, pouting, angst, a general sense of the complete unfairness of the world--yes, it is the start of vacation and this type of freak out always happens, and I always get blindsided.

rollerskating

Sat, 13 Apr 2013 14:49:00 GMT

Spring break has started, and we aren't going anywhere. I seemed to have missed the memo because everyone else is either working full-time or going to Hawaii, Mexico, New York, Baltimore, Florida. . . I couldn't even manage to go visit the cousins in Vancouver like I was planning.

Instead, we are having a staycation. I made a long lists of things that I thought that kids might enjoy and had them vote. Going to the library and the park were high on the list. Rollerskating was a yes for Rose, a maybe for David.

David was dithering about going, but when he heard several of his friends went regularly, he decided to give it a try. The evening did not start out well. He moved stiffly, refused all help and advice, and fell down a lot. At one point, he was sitting on the bench with his head in his hands and his ears turning red. He started whining about leaving, of course.

But then, he saw his classmates. And one of his classmate's mother pointed out that his wheels were locked, and once that was solved, he suddenly could skate. I think it was partially the fun of being with his friend, but suddenly, his legs were moving side to side instead of trying to chug forward, and he didn't panic when he fell. Oh yeah, winning a tootsie roll at the hokie pokie didn't hurt either. It was so cool to seem him relax and have fun.

Rose had no problem having fun. She now had the confidence to go in the big room with the more advanced skaters. I remember taking her to this community center event when she was in kindergarten, so it was amazing to see she was now one of the big kids.

words I had to pronounce today

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 20:01:00 GMT

icthyornis
hesperornis
didelphodon
xiphanctinus
arcelon
dromaeosaurus
elamosaurus
mosasaurus
quetzalcoatlus
maiasaura
tyrannosaurus
albertosaurus

Can you tell David is on a dinosaur kick? Did you know they've found and named many many more dinosaurs than when we were his age? I feel like I chewing on rocks as I try to read these books.

Rock slide in coogr rock by David

Sun, 7 Apr 2013 10:27:00 GMT

Me, my sister, and my cusins asct if we could explor. My Mom said "sure". So se stortid to go down a path. We saw another path that led to a a folin down tree.

We went up the tree. Their was a short drop. We went down. Their was a valy with a rock slide. The slide lookt like a cougar. So we could it coogr rock.

We made a club. (I frget what it was called.) We went to it evry day we wear ther.

a story of gratitude by David

Sat, 6 Apr 2013 16:17:00 GMT

The Mising Vois

This book is dedicated to my brane for being such a smart brane. Bran you asum

One clawd day I asst my sister to red to me. The wisthirsd of os. I tald her that I was gunoow sit down.

Then I went and lawe down on the white cawch. The sister began to red to me. Then her vas got wece, so she stopt reading to me. So I got up to turn on my story, and so I went past the cofe taybl and then in to the diying room and past the rocking cher and fiynly turned on the story.

I was gowing rawnd the teyble then I bygan to run because I was going to throw up.

P.S. The End.