Honest Scrap Award

ONE MONTH AGO, Crys at Modifying Motherhood gave me an award. I thanked her right away and thought, 'thank goodness I have an idea for an upcoming post.' Um, yeah, right. I don't think "upcoming" translates into ONE MONTH LATER. But Crys is a great sort of person, or, rather, I imagine she is face to face since she seems to be a great sort of person as I see her through her writing. So I'm sure she understands that I don't mean any offense by taking ONE WHOLE MONTH to accept this award and pass it on.

Here goes.

Crys gave me the Honest Scrap Award. Sounds nice, eh? I'm supposed to list ten things that you probably didn't know about me. Then I pass the award along. Easy 'nuff. Here is my list:

1. When I was in high school, I was in love with England. I wanted to travel there. I wanted to move there. I thought everything about England was amazing. I knew every single fact about the British royal family and the Beatles that there was to be known.
2. When I was in middle school, around 1984, I thought Michael J. Fox was about the most amazing thing in the entire world. I would have done anything to see him in person. I couldn't imagine that anyone was more fantastic. Then the crush waned. Then about 1998 I told someone how much I liked him as an actor. And that person said, 'yeah, but what has he done lately?' Oh. My. And now? More than ten years later? I respect him and love him even more. He is, in the language that Mrs. G would use, my secret boyfriend.
3. I was a cheerleader in middle school. I would have done anything to be a cheerleader forever and be an 'it' girl. When I tried out in high school I was cut for the squad because I couldn't do a split.
4. I tried yoga for the first time when I was 24. I was really good at it. I apparently am very flexible. I never really did yoga after that. I should.
5. I bite my fingernails. And my toenails.
6. I love Project Runway. I find those designers very talented.
7. I don't understand poetry at all. It's not that I dislike it, I just don't have the ability to understand it.
8. For reasons I cannot explain, I don't like U2. I can't think of any song by the band that I like. I saw them once in concert during their Pop tour and I was bored. And I was completely burned that I had paid so much for the tickets and driven 100 miles to see the concert.
9. In middle school I made up my mind that I was going to go to college at Florida State. There I would major in music and minor in mathematics. I planned on becoming a piano teacher.
10. The only beer I enjoy drinking is Bell's Oberon, only available during the summer.
    

There you go. Now, to the passing onward. I, Heather at Comparative Childhood, do hereby bestow the Honest Scrap Award to:

CDP, aka Aunt Dahlia, at (parenthetical)

Amy at Welcome to Amy's World

Melissa at Buddha Mama

Go visit their blogs! They are very entertaining!

The up side

I've been a bit melancholy. That's an understatement, actually. I'm depressed. I saw a PSA on television yesterday for some depression medication and it included the rhetorical question, 'what does depression feel like?' Then the answer: depression hurts. And...I started crying. 'nuff said.

The family is doing well. I went out with a friend to bridal luncheon yesterday. While I was gone, which frankly was a long time because I got on the wrong highway and drove 20 miles out of my way, my husband took Grace to the hardware store to buy some last materials for her science project. They also bought a wheelbarrow, some planting soil and some seeds.

When I arrived home, Grace was upstairs working on the last of her project and my husband was out back planting seeds. There were little tags that said "basil" and "eggplant" and "watermelon" that Grace had made. Watermelon was Grace's pick. They also got some tomato seeds and zucchini seeds in the ground.

I'm a pessimist when it comes to gardening. I kill almost everything. Grace gave me a couple of those seedling kits for my birthday this year. You know, the kind that include seeds and a little pot and a disc of fertilized soil? All you have to do is follow the directions and give the newly sown seeds some TLC? She chose strawberries and lavender. I decided to get after it and try to see what could become of the thing. I saw some sprigs about two weeks into it and I had a tad of hope. That hope, however, was dashed when the green sprigs wilted away and two months later all that was there was dirt in two little cute pots. I bought 6 herb seedlings four weeks ago. Basil? Dead within three days. Marjoram held on for a couple weeks before biting the dust. So for me, I just feel like it's so defeating to garden. I feel like Dr. Death.

But not these two. They are optimistic. They believe that watermelon can grow in Michigan. And they're hoping their tomato plants sprout, despite the fact that they are months overdue for the prime growing season.

In the flower beds close to the house, there are several plants we've had the pleasure of discovering throughout this spring. Just in the last few weeks, we realized that we had three healthy peony plants getting ready to bloom. The biggest plant had one bud so heavy, the whole branch was falling over.

After I watched the depression PDA yesterday afternoon, the sun was setting and my husband finally came in from gardening. Everything felt odd. All was good and right with the world, yet something was not right. He said to me, you haven't even noticed anything around you, have you?

Indeed, I had not. There, only a few feet from me, was the biggest, heaviest peony, carefully cut and opening in a crystal bud vase on the mantle. A gentle yet robust expression of life, sitting there as if it came into the world just to try and cheer me up.

Hopefully this is a passage in my life, a phase. Maybe it will bring me to a better place. But in the meantime I'm trying to realize that the world around me is much, much better than I deserve. I have people around me who love me and who are happy just to see me happy and laughing.

Our children, or more specifically, our daughters

I found this article about young girls and awareness of their beauty at Newsweek.com yesterday. Yawn. The idea that girls are getting sucked into beauty treatments and being sexy and generally becoming obsessed with their appearance is nothing new. Heck, Club Libby Lu opened their first store almost a decade ago and the whole enterprise has already gone kaput as of this January. But don't you be fooled; this isn't a sign that girls don't want this kind of product and service. Another aspiring capitalist will swoop in to sweep up this market and fill the voided niche just as soon as this recession is over. It might even be Club Libby Lu reinvented by its parent company, Saks Incorporated.

We found out on Monday that we're adding another girl to our family. Of course, this is great. We know how to do girls. Our family is overrun with girls. Boys are not worse, just different, and we have no experience. But the news brings to my mind all the things you have to worry about with girls.

This morning when Grace walked out the front door for the bus, I walked to my bedroom window and watched her cross the lawn. There's so much inside of her, so much history, yet in that moment of her crossing the lawn with her backpack on the way to school, all you see is another typical teen. And I said out loud, "I wonder if I'll worry about this new baby girl as much as I worry about Grace." That about sums it up. Though I've never parented a boy, and though I have no practical idea how that would be different than parenting a girl, I know that with a girl my mind works overtime on all the influences about her.

The Newsweek article brought up one thing that makes me crazy. Tons on ink is spilled on the topic of the oversexualization of girls. Somewhere in each story is a line about how girls are growing up too fast. Yet my mind wanders to another place when I read these diatribes. When do we talk about girls and women as perhaps never being "old enough" for this much emphasis on appearance? So...rearing young girls in a way that makes them grow up too fast is the main issue? That we don't want girls to do these kinds of things until they are older? And when do the tiny women-to-be get time to go to the science museum and find out about law and debate and discover the value of investing and compound interest? Try never. That's what's missing from this story. It endorses the idea that excessive attention to appearance in the female gender is fine, the problem is really that the girls are too young. So smack that to your boys. The next time they talk about entering the science fair in 4th grade or going camping when they're 6 or learning how to shoot a gun or helping out with the oil change or trying to solve a hard logic problem, tell them that they shouldn't do it because they're growing up too fast. They should stick to action figures and tag until they're at least ten.

My husband's consistent comment regarding his soon-to-be-born daughter is, "this girl never wears pink." He even told Grace. Grace laughed. I told him I had no idea where it starts. With Grace, I was like every good-intentioned mother -- pink was just another color of the rainbow. The nursery was blue and yellow, and she was just as likely to be seen in jeans and a white t-shirt as she was in a pink outfit. But somewhere in childhood, the obsession with pink began. By the time she was 10 or 11, she owned tons of pink clothing. Her room now is BRIGHT PINK. Yeah, there's some orange and yellow and red mixed in, but make no mistake about it, her room is PINK. Since she was the one requesting these things, I let her do it. After all, what is worse for a girl's sense of empowerment, her love and desire for the color pink or her mother telling her that she can't make her own decisions?

When I was with family over Christmas holiday, my nieces and nephews were all watching WALL-E. When Eve first enters the story, my youngest nephew (5 years old) started explaining to me how WALL-E is starting to fall in love with her. I asked him (innocently enough), how do you know that WALL-E is a boy and this other robot is a girl? At first he said they sounded like a boy and a girl. I told them I didn't think so, they just sounded like robots to me. Then he explained that it becomes clear later in the movie. I left it at that. A little while later I asked the grown-ups the same question -- how do the children know that WALL-E is a boy and Eve is a girl? There were a few theories. Eve looks like an egg. (And 5-year-olds pick up on this gender-specific referent?) Eve is smooth, shiny, and clean, and WALL-E is rough and dirty. (Interesting gender-specific assignment of personality traits, there.) Then I noted that Eve was a pretty powerful little beast, basically spending her first few minutes on camera blowing up things and whizzing around. No comments. (Apparently those are not traits associated with girls.)

So whether you like it not, kids get messages about who they should be based on their gender. You can try to block it. Unplug the tv, monitor the clothing, watch the way people address kids and the talk they hear, read the right books, note the inconsistent messages, and on and on it goes. But sooner or later kids notice the world around them.

In light of this, I wonder how I can do anything more other than hope that my children's minds can think outside of the traditional gender role assignment box.

How the grades go

Grace, my husband and I met with her vice principal and another teacher at school a week ago. This was the follow-up meeting to our first meeting in January to address Grace's troubles in school. Originally the meeting was scheduled for mid-February, but at that time it was clear that she still had not figured out a way to keep up with her work and keep track of missing assignments. By the end of the term, she had managed to complete all her missing assignments and her grades for term were actually not bad at all.

However, there was a lingering problem that no one seemed to be able to solve. Tests. Quizzes. Examinations. We couldn't figure out what to do about it. Her Algebra teacher, very dedicated and helpful, was throwing up her hands in befuddled confusion. The basic idea is that no one could seem to figure out how Grace seemed to know something at one time and then completely forget it a very short time later. So our meeting a week ago was focused on figuring out this answer to this unsolved mystery.

Though it may seem obvious, the strategy we settled on was to have Grace take control of the situation. When she found out a closed-book exam would be given in any class, she has to find out from the teacher what specific concepts will be tested, what the format of the test will be, and how long the test will be. Her task at that point is to prepare a review sheet and have her teacher look at it, adding things she may have left off. The final step is for Grace to find or create a practice test that is as close to resembling the actual test as possible. The afternoon/evening before the test she takes the practice test just like it was the real test. Whatever she doesn't know, she then finds the answer to and commits it to memory.

It assumes that nothing will keep her from learning, that there is no learning disability that would hinder this process (aside from ADD which is being treated medically).

I'll admit it, I was nervous leaving that meeting. We arranged to let 4-5 weeks pass and then meet to review what the results were. At that point if it was still clear that the tests were a problem, then we'd have something concrete to go on. I guess I didn't realize that getting assessments done at the high school level takes a lot more work than it does at lower grades. My biggest fear walking out of that meeting was that Grace wasn't capable of doing what she was being charged with. My husband said I shouldn't worry, that he felt she was quite able to do it and that if she valued the results that would come (good grades), she would do it. Still.

One week later. Grace has taken a test or quiz in four of her five classes this week. The results?

Science: quiz, 93%
English: quiz, 90%
World History: quiz, 100%

and...


AND.....

.....

Algebra: test, 95%

That's right, friends and neighbors, for the first time in FOUR YEARS, Grace passed a math test. And not only did she pass it, SHE GOT AN A.

I know that it's not like everything is fixed and we'll never have troubles with her schoolwork again. I'm sure we are on a peak now and the valley will come. But GOD ALMIGHTY, I cannot BEGIN to tell you how awesome of a feeling it is to realize she took four exams in a row and got an A on every single one.

The next time I start complaining about her here, someone remember to slap me upside the head comment-style, ok? I think everyone else had confidence in her, including herself, except me. And for once, I didn't voice my skepticism to her. She is a victor, my friends. She knew it, she just made a point of letting everyone else know it too.

****Of course, maybe this was all a result of her getting her hair cut. What do you think?****

One. Last. Assignment.

It is the last week of the term. This is pressure time, folks. My girl, the freshman who lives in my house, has to make sure every single assignment is turned in and graded and that she got correct credit for it. And she needs to study for finals and take them this week too. It is not an overstatement to say that she has never succeeded at doing this before. But with a little help from her family, her teachers and administrators, her doctor, and a significant amount of effort and determination on her part, she's actually pulling it together. We may actually get to see a grade report that is (mostly) clean.

Do you believe me? Do you really think that this is going off smoothly and without a hitch? I didn't think so.

Last night Grace and I took one last look together at her online grades. Her score on every single assignment she does all year long in on that website. Every single comment from a teacher. Every absence or tardy. All looks good except for three assignments. One she had a good explanation for, but was dragging her feet on working through. Another one she said she just forgot about. And there was the third. An assignment in Algebra. Grace's favorite subject, the one she loves, the one she anticipates with glee every day, the one she wishes she could just learn more and more every single day. (Not.)

This one assignment in Algebra is the last one that's not done. The score has been online as a "0" for a month. Every time I ask her about it, she swears she's done it and that she turned it in and that it must just be in her teacher's inbox. I don't think she's lying. I sincerely believe she believes that she did the assignment the night it was assigned, turned it in, and her teacher just never graded it. In fact, I believe her so much that I believe she may be accurate in her recollection of the facts. Still, a zero is a zero, and when your grades aren't hot, you can't just stick it to the system.

My husband and I have explained to her many times, just do the assignment again and make sure your teacher gets it this time. It can't hurt. It will give you more practice at something you struggle to understand. You will get credit for the work. And you won't have to worry about it anymore. But she was steadfast in her determination to demonstrate that she already did the assignment and that her teacher just must not have graded it.

Last night at 8:30p, after we had identified this assignment and the other two that were missing, I told her to go upstairs to her room and complete all three assignments. She said she had all the materials and information she needed in order to complete them all. And off she went. Three hours passed. I was going to bed and I decided to check and find out whether the assignments were actually completed. Nasty one that she was dragging her feet through? Done. One she just forgot about? Done. And that one last Algebra assignment? Not Done. Not Even Started.

"I'm going to check in my teacher's box tomorrow and find it!" she protested.

And then it dawned on me. I told her that it was irrelevant whether she had done the assignment once before. I told her this had absolutely no bearing on whether she should do it now and turn it in. The interchange lasted about 60 seconds. At the end of it, she crashed onto her bed, tore open her algebra book, and furiously started going through her papers to get a piece of paper and start the assignment. 45 minutes later, done.

God Almighty.

The weekend is here.

This was a long week. Not as bad as it could have been, though. After writing about how crazy the week looked, I took a serious step backward and cut things out. For instance:

• I canceled the meeting at Grace's school for this morning to talk about her grades with school people. I realized that since she was not on top of things yet, it would be a waste of time. I emailed the assistant principal and the guidance counselor and discussed new ways to help Grace. This was more helpful than the meeting would have been, I think, and much less time-consuming. And less stressful.
• I didn't make Grace a cake or even cupcakes to celebrate her birthday at home as a family. She was completely fine with this. We really did pull out the leftover Sara Lee frozen cherry cheesecake from Valentine's Day, put 15 candles in it and sing 'happy birthday,' then Grace said she'd prefer a piece of the leftover Coca-Cola cake. She put three pink birthday candles in the slice and we sang again. She was completely happy with the whole thing.
• I smacked myself on the forehead and remembered for half a second that I am not a single parent any longer. I have a husband who is an amazingly sacrificial step-parent to Grace, and he is so good at it that I forget it many times. I'm not making this up or exaggerating the situation for effect. To give you an idea, he gets up every school day morning with her, makes sure she gets up in time to get ready, makes her lunch, and makes sure she gets out the door on time. I often times am sleeping in and don't even know she's out the door until after I wake up. I never asked him to do it, he just started doing it because he knew it was the best thing for Grace, for me, and for our budget (packed lunches instead of school-bought lunches). That's just the beginning of the ways in which he goes over and above what any parent would do, so much so that I don't even remember how wonderful it is. Noticing my stress early in the week, he piped up and told me he could easily run some of my errands for me given my busy week of appointments and other demands at work.

All this to say, though it didn't seem like it here as I was writing, our family took some time out to reflect and take stock of things.

I decided to let Grace have her birthday party tonight. This decision came after a good deal of reflection, a lot of which centered around fathers, including stepfathers and my own father's parenting of me, and my grandfather's (his father) parenting style as well. The short of it is, I came to Wednesday night going to bed and asked my husband what our decision was on the party. Without pausing he said, "She's having a party; it's not even a question to cancel it." The explanation of this position will take a lot of words, so I'll save it for next week. But suffice it to say, I feel very calm that it is the best decision.

Given who I am, one thing I was blessed by was my own father's demeanor and approach to life and parenting. I'm so grateful for this that it grieves me terribly to watch Grace have such a crappy dad. We all get blessings and bummers, and Grace and I got completely different ones in the father category. I wrote yesterday about the tension I sense that Grace has in not wanting to be close to her stepdad while also chasing her biological father to extreme lengths in order to get him to have a relationship with her. I wrote this in light of my continued reflection on her lack of the kind of relationship that I had with a father. There's much more to be written, but it'll wait 'til after the weekend.

For now, my husband is going to Sam's Club this afternoon to get pizzas for tonight, and we are picking up Grace's ice cream cake at Baskin Robbins on the way home. Grace is cleaning up the house after school today before her friends arrive. Then Grace and her three girlfriends are going to go shopping for a couple hours. I'm planning on getting a haircut while they are shopping. Afterward, we'll all have pizza and snacks at our house, and then a sleepover. Probably a fire in the fireplace. I may even get more than 6 hours of sleep tonight, more than I've gotten any other night this week.

Just so you know, since I'm sure you all want to know, as of yesterday afternoon she finished and turned in 9 of the 10 missing algebra assignments. The last one she is having difficulty understanding and her teacher is meeting with her at lunch today.

I hate this

I am a little angry. I'm frustrated. I'm disappointed.

Grace lied to me, and in a big way. It's not the first time she's done it; I doubt it will be the last. But I'm really disappointed.

About four weeks ago, Grace had 13 outstanding assignments to do in algebra. There were missing assignments in other classes, but algebra was the one that really kicked her butt. She stopped doing homework in the last term, failing partially because she didn't do the last 10 homework assignments. But once the term is over, you're off the hook. Not so with this term. 13 missing assignments still out there.

When I met with Grace and her administrators/teachers at school four weeks ago, we all brainstormed on a way for her to just get the work done that she didn't want to do. The point is, she had to figure out a way to get herself to do it, not a way for us to get her to do it. Yes, we would monitor the process to make sure it was working for her, but she needed to do it. So Grace made a master list of all the missing assignments, then put a column to check off when the assignment was done, and another one to check off when the assignment was turned in. She also made a different chart for herself to use every day at school to keep track of her daily assignments, whether she completed them, and whether she turned them in. In short, she came up with a system where she could check every minute of the day whether she was on track. Every week, she turns the charts in to her guidance counselor. She said she'd show me the charts at the end of every day.

Throughout these weeks, she's reluctantly showed me the charts. She really doesn't use them during the day. I would check her grades online, and the missing assignments (most of them) remained. Yeah, she got better and kept up with the daily assignments, but the missing assignments seemed to persist. The information on her charts often wouldn't jive with what was online.

--------------------

Me: "Did you do these math assignments, Grace?"
Grace: "Yes, I did them this weekend."
Me: "Did you turn them in?"
Grace: "Oh, I was waiting until they were all finished to turn them in."
Me: "No, turn them in now.

A following day:

Me: "Grace, did you turn in those math assignments you completed?"
Grace: "Huh, what? Which assignments?"
Me: "The assignments that you told me that you completed that still show as missing on your grades online."
Grace: "Oh, um, no, I didn't turn them in today because we got really busy."
Me: "Turn them in tomorrow."

A subsequent day:

Me: "Grace, remember those assignments you did that you never turned in? They're still showing as missing on the online grade site."
Grace: "Oh, I forgot them in my locker and I didn't get a chance to turn them in."
Me: "Grace, turn them in. Tomorrow."

--------------------

If you have ever had a teenager of your own, I'm sure you can imagine that there have not been only three discrete clean conversations like this, but rather more like 10-15, or 20, in which she gets mad because I'm using a tone of voice that isn't nice, and I get mad because she's not making sense and not clueing in to the big picture. She's also less than respectful during these conversations. I was at the end of my rope by midweek last week. She swore the 13 missing assignments were all completed, but that five were still in her locker because she kept forgetting to bring them to class, and the rest had just not been graded. I told her to resolve the situation by the next day OR ELSE.

The "or else"? She didn't get to be in the talent show on Friday night. See, she auditioned for the talent show without asking permission. And she spent an entire day after school at a rehearsal, a day when she was supposed to go to the math help center until work gets under control. She spent a lunch hour on another day, a lunch hour that she was supposed to meet with her math teacher, in the library printing out the lyrics to the song she was singing in the talent show. Despite this distraction, my "or else" seemed to do the trick -- when she came home on Thursday and told me yes, she had turned in the assignments, and all was well in the world of algebra.

We all went to the talent show on Friday night. It was ok. I won't say it was great, but it also wasn't bad. She came home, gathered her things to go to her father's house for the three-day weekend, and bid me adieu.

Then I got the email from her math teacher. Grace is missing ten assignments. Ten. Not one, not two. Not even four or five. Ten. In a bit more than three weeks, she had completed three missing assignments and turned them in. And the worst part? She went through an amazing amount of work to deceive not only me, but a huge number of other people, into believing this wasn't the case. She turned in those charts to her guidance counselor, see, so that he can also see whether her system is working. So he's got in writing her verification that she did this work. And turned it in. Only she didn't.

I called her on the phone at her dad's house on Saturday. I told her she'd better get those ten assignments done this weekend. And I told her to tell her father exactly what was going on. The result? She came home last night with two assignments done and lots of excuses, I-thought-I-turned-it-ins, I-forgot-to-turn-it-ins, and it's-in-my-lockers.

There are many levels on which this drives me crazy.

• Grace knows she's lost her permission to audition for plays at all this year. Her colleagues in theatre are doing all the cool stuff that kids get to do, like work up special bits and compete at states, do special performances, etc. But she's not getting to do it because she needs to concentrate on her core subjects before doing extra stuff. She's also lost permission to go to performing arts camp this summer. Whatever. Despite all this, she's still not getting her act together and just doing the work.
• She lied to me. Instead of just doing the work and turning it in, getting the monkey off her back so to speak, she went through great efforts to make it look like she had done the work when she didn't. What is the point?
• Grace demonstrated a poor level of priority-setting. It never occurred to her that since she was so much behind where she needed to be, and since she had lied to everyone about it, maybe she shouldn't do the talent show. Yet she chose to do it, and waste another entire week without doing the missing work, some of which is over two months late now.
• If she doesn't do the homework, then it is difficult to assess whether she's having difficulty taking tests independently. I explained this to her, I explained to overwhelming importance of getting caught up. Yet still, no change in her actions.
• Her stepdad and I have been working overtime to encourage her to nip this thing in the bud. We've said that we believe in her; we've told her that we're helping her through a process of ending school as a nightmare and the beginning of it being something she "gets;" we've done tons of monitoring to make sure she has time and space and resources to get her work done. Yet still, on "getting the work done," we're seeing little change in her attitude.
  

My resolution? Summer school. It's unlikely she's pass algebra at this point unless she has a complete change of heart, but she has the option of summer school. But since she's only needing this because she chose not to do the work when given the opportunity, I'm going to let her pay the $250 tuition, and I'm going to make sure that the summer school term is during the time she spends with her father this summer. If she doesn't have the money in time to pay for tuition, or she doesn't pass the class during summer school, she'll just repeat 9th grade.

Yeah, I'm in that mode of "let the kid learn life the hard way." It happens every school year about this time, so I just feel like I'm right on schedule.

I would LOVE to know if this will ever stop. I would LOVE to know how to get the kid to change her ways, insomuch as her ways are pretty destructive to her ability to get past this stage of life and education she hates so much.

Follow-up to test taking

I said it yesterday, and I'll repeat it today: THANK YOU to all of you who commented and emailed me about my post regarding Grace and test taking. As many of you noted, I was feeling very scared and very confused and very frustrated. Sometimes the best remedy for that is time to think it through. Time has helped, but it has also helped to get all of the ideas y'all made.

So here's some more information about our situation. Sorry in advance for the very lengthy post, but I wanted to address each of these ideas carefully since I don't think Grace or I are the only people who could benefit from the discussion. Hopefully it will be beneficial to many out there.

Natalie and Amanda both ask about alternative schools, educational approaches, and teaching philosophies out there. Yes, I've thought about this. We do have an alternative high school here that is hugely successful. The philosophy is that students drive their own learning. For the most part, the students design their own curriculum around their interests and learn because they are self-motivated. The high school is uncontroversially ranked highest in the state in scores on state mandated standardized testing, SAT and ACT scores, graduate rate, and placement in colleges (both by numbers and by national ranks of the college/university). Grace was enormously interested in going there. Unfortunately, so is every other 8th grader in the district. They place about 120-125 students in the freshman class every year from about 350-400 applications. No special privileges, no preferential treatment, no consideration of what the student brings to the table. The lucky new freshmen are selected entirely on the basis of lottery. And Grace was number 290-something. So, it's unlikely her number will come up anytime soon.

The high school Grace does go to has its own neighborhood district, but it also includes a magnet program. Several, in fact. The high school curriculum is tailored to one of four broadly defined career fields and the students in the magnet programs are able to spend their 10th, 11th, and 12th grade years in specialized courses that meet state requirements for graduation. Because of this, the high school also has a lottery for incoming freshmen outside the school's prescribed district. We didn't live in the high school's neighborhood district last year, but Grace wanted to put in an application. And she got selected on lottery. Elated, she sent in her acceptance right away. She's hoping she gets into the communication and media magnet program. But again, 40 slots, 400 freshmen, all on random lottery. That's good for Grace, because if it were on merit there's probably no way she'd get in right now without some major strings being pulled.

Another perk of her high school is that they do mastery learning. This means that students don't get away with just checking out of a course, not doing work, and subsequently failing the class and taking it in a watered-down version in summer school. If they get below a C in a class, they have to sign a contract with the teacher and work through the content until it is mastered on their own time in the next term. This is NOT done in a testing format. So for the first term when Grace failed Algebra, she actually got an incomplete and has been working ever since to master the content of tests and quizzes she didn't pass.

So in a sense, Grace already goes to a high school with an alternative approach to education.

All in all, I think where she's at is a good place. Especially given that the only other alternatives would be Catholic school (arguably less flexible) and home schooling (yeah, right, with all my spare time). For those who are curious, if I could do everything all over again knowing everything then that I know now, I would have home-schooled from day one using an unschooling method.

Natalie also asked about whether there's a university close by. More than close by, it's where my husband and I teach and do our research. The school district benefits greatly from this in that they work hard to work with the researchers at the university, do collaborative work, and implement the findings of research directly into the curriculum and the classroom policies. This is especially true of the two high schools that have lotteries for new students (e.g., Grace's high school). For instance, in the two lottery high schools, science is taught as a three-year integrated curriculum. There is no designated biology or chemistry or geology course; the content of these courses is taught topic by topic, since so many scientific topics require learning two or more of the traditional content areas in order to master. It's a bummer to transfer in or out of the system, but if you're in it throughout the four years of high school, the results have proven to be overwhelmingly positive. In the next two school years, all the high schools in the district will have changed completely to this model. Since Natalie suggested seeking advice beyond the district itself, I've seriously thought about going over to the relevant faculty at the school of education once I have more information and asking, what is your best recommendation? We'll see.

Phd in yogurtry and Little Miss Sunshine State both address going through the school for a full evaluation in order to identify any kind of learning disorder and to develop an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) for Grace in order to implement a well-defined set of goals and strategies for meeting those goals in school. You know, if there's one thing I could tell people out there who are watching their child struggle in school, go straight to the guidance counselor or teacher and say you want your child to be evaluated. The school is required to furnish you with information about testing and schedule it in a reasonable amount of time, usually within 45-60 days. It is the law of the land, and your right to this has been fought for long and hard by thousands of parents and educators. Once testing is completed, the school district will assemble a team of relevant professionals, including the parents, in order to determine if the child has a need for special intervention and develop an IEP to address that need. Now that I've given that public service announcement...

I know all about IEPs. I used to write IEPs, actually. My first job out of college as a budding psychology BA was to work in early intervention, that is, assessing and delivering services to children ages birth-36 months with any kind of developmental delay. It's required by law to be funded by every state, free of charge, and it's the precursor to the special education system which is normally available to students from age 3 years+. I assessed the infants and toddlers and wrote IFSPs, Individualized Family Service Plans. Once the child turned 3 years old, our agency worked with the local school district to develop an IEP that would pick up where we left off. So fortunately I benefit from the knowledge of the laws surrounding kids with special needs, the obligations of the educational system, and the process by which kids are helped. More than once I have called the school on violations on the law. When this happened, my standard line was to find the appropriate supervisor and tell them, I could sue the district and win, but I'd really rather that you do your job so that my kid could get what she needs.

Grace has been evaluated three times, once in 3rd grade, once in 4th grade, and then a last time in 6th grade. 3rd was the initial eval for qualification for intervention, 4th was because she was in a new school district after we moved and they were going to end services because they doubted she really had a problem. 6th grade was in that same district and was the mandatory re-eval to determine continued eligibility for intervention. During the re-eval in 6th grade, Grace decided to conscientiously object. She told the psychologist that she didn't want to do the testing. The psychologist persisted through it, and when the results were reported, they were almost comical. When they were presented to the team, my husband and I asked the team why the psychologist even bothered to administer the tests when she knew the conditions would result in unreliable and invalid data. She didn't give a great defense. The special ed teacher was embarrassed and apologized to me afterward. The next academic year, I went through Grace's permanent file and removed all the testing records from the re-eval. Then we came back to district number one without an IEP or a current eval. That was the start of 8th grade.

In earlier evaluations, the main finding was that Grace tested positively for ADD/ADHD and that no other impairment was found. Much to her current chagrin, Grace scored the highest in mathematical reasoning and logic. She showed some delay in planning skills which evidenced itself mostly in written composition, but, as all her educators say today, she's completely overcome the evidence of this deficiency. Still, there's my lingering questions about planning skills -- wouldn't this have an effect on her ability to learn material, studying for a test, and spitting back that information in a testing environment?

Right now our goal (Grace's, mine, the team at the school) is to treat ADD with medicine, put a system in place that keeps Grace motivated to do her work when it's assigned even when she doesn't find it useful or interesting, and have her catch up on all her missing assignments. All this is in process now. Then we meet together in about 3 more weeks. At that point, she'll have no missing assignments, she'll have the benefit of 4 weeks using a medication to treat symptoms of ADD, and we can ask, are her problems solved? Maybe, maybe not. But if they aren't solved, we know we can try and identify what's causing symptoms that are independent of just lack of attention and interest in work (symptoms of ADD).

Joanna and Urban Panther and Little Miss Sunshine State all tell about family members or their own children who dealt with ADD or ADHD. This, I think, is one of the biggest things I am missing. I don't have a group of friends who have kids with the disorder. Or even one friend. I have two friends, each with one daughter, who have had a teacher suggest ADD or ADHD may be the cause of the problems their daughter is experiencing in school. Both rejected the suggestion of ADD/ADHD soundly. Both said that there was nothing wrong with their child, that the school system was deficient somehow. Now, I won't say I can't relate to this idea. The educational system in the US tends to find kids with ADD/ADHD at a much higher rate than in other countries, and these kids are treated as much more impaired than is generally thought elsewhere. For instance, Grace looks perfectly average in Brazil. The idea that a kid doesn't like school so much and talks a lot and likes to be outgoing and festive is pretty normal. However...

I realized recently in tears in a conversation with my husband that part of what makes it so difficult to help a child with ADD/ADHD is that the disorder is associated with trouble. If you're a kindergarten teacher, you'd just as soon not have in your classroom the student who's in the midst of being diagnosed. You want that over-active boy who sometimes can't help but hit other kids when he gets mad on the playground fixed. When I was working in early intervention and we heard a diagnosis of ADD/ADHD, we all groaned; in contrast, we didn't groan when we heard autism or cerebral palsy or speech delay. There's a stigma attached to ADD/ADHD. There's something wrong with the child, and professionals are excused for reacting in a negative way to the symptoms.

What I was crying about with my husband was that I longed for someone to say, "I've been there; it's rough, but it will be ok in the end." All this to say, it felt so good, even from you bloggers out there who I've never met, to hear you assure me of this.

I emailed Grace's assistant principal on Wednesday evening. I told him of my concerns and asked him to keep an eye on tests and quizzes, especially once Grace has completed all missing assignments and she is keeping up with what's going on in the classroom. Hopefully when we meet in three weeks, we won't have lost any time and we can look at this with less confusion and less convoluted circumstances.

Finally, I talked to Grace. I told her how important it was for her to just keep at it. I told her that she was important, that she was smart, and that I wanted all of us in our family to work together on this. I told her that we want to solve at least part of her struggles (keeping up with daily work, having difficulty paying attention), and then we could make sure that anything else causing problems for her could be addressed better. She was receptive to this. As I've said before, she's really the core of this whole thing, and she needs to be in the middle of it, both in terms of working on the problem and in having control over solving the problem.

Confounding variables

So ADD it is. Apparently things are ok for now in the treatment of that disorder. The main thing we are trying to focus on improving at school is completing every assignment and turning it in on time. Actually, turning it in at all, but if Grace can finish it and turn it in on time, all the better.

And then, an old reminder rears its ugly head. Tests and quizzes. Examinations.

I'm one of those moms who has had too much experience in education and psychology and teaching. I see the grades and the numbers and the performance and I can't help but start evaluating the whole situation. Then I start forming hypotheses. Then I get in the picture and start trying to problem solve. I've said it before -- I'm one of those parents who asks a lot of questions, and wants good answers. I'm not pretentious or rude or patronizing, I just figure if I know the jargon, then meet the educators where they are and talk to them in a way that I know how to. Also, I want to include my daughter in the process and have her understand the jargon, not just have things being said about her and have the words and ideas zoom right past her because they are not being said in a user-friendly kind of way.

Back to tests. Grace is really really bad at being tested. This has cost her a lot in classes with teachers who place a heavy weight on test and quiz scores. English in 7th grade -- F because she never passed her weekly vocabulary tests. Math in 6th grade -- complicated as to why she didn't do well, but mostly attributable to a teacher who ruled with an iron fist and placed a big weight on tests. F. Same in US History in 8th grade. I studied with her for three hours one night for a test. Next day? F on the test. Science in 8th grade. Saved by labs and the science fair. But tests? Straight Fs. Now she's meeting her match in Algebra. Her teacher says she's so frustrated because Grace will know a concept and roll through the problems one after another right in front of her. Then on the test? F. And I don't mean a subtle F. On the last round of tests in Algebra, she got 1 point of 30. That's right -- she scored a 3% on the test. Two performance tests in orchestra this term. Performance, which she ain't bad at. Score? F...and an F.

Then came theatre. The shining light in her day. The class she loves. The class she cannot stop talking about. First test - F. Second test, given yesterday -- F.

Am I frustrated? Yeah, you could say that. It means this is outside of ADD, for all intents and purposes. If she can't transfer the knowledge she has in her head into an examination setting, she's sunk. Really. She probably won't be able to graduate. I'm not sure what the solution is, but I am facing the possibility that something else is going on. Which means more evaluation and testing. And more changes. And things Grace may not like.

I talked to her honestly and openly last night at dinner. I told her I was frustrated and scared, scared because I didn't know how to help her. I told her I was nervous because I wasn't sure she was aware of the problem. I asked her, please, come to us for help! Go to your teachers! Ask them for help! Ask them for information. Ask them exactly what will be on tests, ask them how they will format the test, ask them precisely how you should study, ask us at home for help, get into it!

Then I sent her an email this morning. I told her ideas of how to study. I told her, make a blog. Don't publicize it, just make it. When you're studying for something, just put all the facts in there, make them come alive. Think of different ways to present the ideas.

Or memorize the facts and act them out like you're on stage.

Or draw a picture on drawing paper or on the computer. Use any media you like. Like think, how do I visually present a quadratic equation? How could I use the picture to learn what I need to remember?

Or...

or...

or...




I feel like I'm trying so hard, Grace is trying in her own way, and we are both failing. Quite literally. I told her last night, we do this every year, right? You start the year and try to do it on your own. Somewhere around Christmas time, it comes out that you're not pulling it together. Then we go into massive intervention mode. Somewhere in the spring we all get exhausted and give up. Then the end of the year is horrible, maybe there's summer school, and we start over again the next fall. Then I asked her, how can we stop doing this? How can we nip this in the bud and get everyone else out there to realize, you are a smart person who can learn and be competent?!!?

Suggestions are welcome. For the educational problem Grace is facing and for the emotional problem of mom.

On the bright side of this, my kid is damn talented. Everyone who's seen her blog agrees -- she's a damn good writer and very good at figuring out how to put together a layout and make it aesthetically pleasing. And all this with absolutely no adult intervention. No adult pushed her to do it or helped her with it in any way. She's making a PSA for her English class right now. And she's doing a really good job. Still photos, video, audio (speech, music, and sound effects), all put together into a 2-3 minute project. Really good. She's amazingly sensitive to putting together her outfits and being stylish. And as you all know, I am not the one who bestows gifts of designer trends. She shops secondhand shops and puts it together in her own way, her own creativity of combination and judgment. And it looks great. She creates visual art on her computer that is far beyond her years. She's got the goods, ladies and gentlemen, and that's why it kills me to see her held back by a system. HOW TO GET PAST THE SYSTEM, I ask. HOW?

Letting it all out

So, here's a moment in which I will bear my soul. I am so emotional over this stuff that Grace is going through at school, I can't hold the tears back. I've been trying all day to hold it in and think rationally and put it all off until later, but I can't do it anymore. I am so so so so so SO much hoping the best for Grace, and just so frustrated by the whole thing.

I was reading through my blog today and thinking, I wish the teacher that was there at the meeting yesterday could read this. No, I wouldn't send along the URL because I frankly don't think it's his business to really know the depth of my feelings towards Grace and about myself. But I just thought, can't he see that Grace is a person? Can't he see that she's struggling and that it isn't just a matter of will? If she's bored in class and puts her head down on the desk and complains that something is boring, it's part of what she struggles with. Yes, I know if she were an automaton she would be able to control these expressions, but she's not! That's the point! She has a disorder that makes it difficult for her to do otherwise. But instead what I heard from this teacher was disapproval and an annoyed tone.

If the student had a hearing problem, would you bring the same kind of attitude to the table in discussing the results of that impairment? What about if the child had mental retardation? Would you bring to the table irritation and anger in reaction to their difficulties in completing all the tasks put before them? Why is it that with a disorder that creates behavior problems, people cannot see past that? It's as if deep down they cannot believe that a disorder evidenced in behavior is something the individual has difficulty controlling. That somehow it's ok to bring an attitude to the table that accuses the individual. WHAT IS THE POINT?

Grace's math teacher is very worried about her. She is so encouraging to me. She goes out of her way to help her. But she very much wants Grace to succeed. When she sees me, she tells me likes Grace. When I email her, she always replies with the kindest, more helpful things. She's not a pansy, I think she just realizes that Grace needs HELP, not more JUDGEMENT!!!! She emailed me twice today and I was holding back. I realized that Grace didn't want to be singled out as 'special.' After telling the math teacher briefly what went on this week at the doctor and at the team meeting, I wrote this:

"There is one more thing I want to make I tell you because it is so important to Grace. She is very sensitive to having people see her or treat differently due to any disorder she has or any difficulty she is having. In all sincerity, she chose in middle school to be completely uncooperative in testing because the school psychologist and the co-teacher were so obvious about singling her out. It got so bad that the co-teacher just said there was no point in having her treated differently at all because the intervention was actually hurting her more than no intervention would. Obviously this was detrimental to her performance in school, but for her it was straight-forward choice: she would rather try on her own and fail than have adults drawing attention to her in what she perceived to be a negative way in the hopes that she might do better. For the last year to year and a half, my husband and I and Grace have spent countless hours as a family discussing how it would be best if Grace would go for help at school. My fear is that if she feels that she's being seen as 'special,' she will ditch the whole effort completely. In fact, given that she did it at a younger age, I can't imagine she wouldn't have this reaction. I assured her that everything regarding her having a label of ADD or anything different about the way she goes about her work and her school day would be entirely confidential. Obviously I know that you and everyone else at the school knows this, but in her case, this is especially important. Her ability to receive any extra help or intervention from the school without sacrificing her self-esteem is of utmost importance to her, and I have to respect that."

It was then that the tears began to fall. I couldn't hold back. I love this kid so much and I feel like her ability to do what she wants to do in life is hanging precariously by a thin thread. One wrong move by someone at the school and she's going to react. It's too much for me to just be cool about. Yeah, I cry a lot about her, I really do. She affects me so much, not in a negative way, though. It's not like she does things and I cry because they hurt my feelings. No, I cry because I just can't let go of wanting the best for her. Her struggles hit me straight to my core. It breaks my heart to see her not get it. Yeah, it's like a mama bear thing, but not in a stupid, 'don't mess with my kid' kind of way; it's in a way where I just long for her to be able to overcome her challenges and it kills me to see her meet hurdle after hurdle and not be able to make it over. And I just can't be objective.

So I'm crying and letting it all out right now. And that's that. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. But right now that's where I am.

An update on school and ADD/ADHD

We have a diagnosis of ADD from Grace's pediatrician. And some controlled substances in our home to deal with the symptoms of that. The doctor said, 'this is not a magic pill. You have to come up with other strategies to deal with all the effects of this problem.'

Yesterday, Grace and I met with a few people at school to talk about what she could do to be consistent in completing her work. The group was her assistant principal, her guidance counselor, one of her teachers, Grace and me. The meeting went well, and I applaud her assistant principal. I realize I forced this group to do something different: to include the student they are talking about in the discussion and planning process. Her assistant principal was great. I'm a very very picky mom when it comes to these kinds of things because in a former life I was one of the professionals on these teams, trained in how the meetings should be conducted and the reports should be written. Anyways, the asst. principal didn't even blink. He rolled right through the meeting and addressed Grace directly throughout the whole hour and a half. (YES! AN HOUR AND A HALF!)

The resolution was to help Grace figure out ways to stay interested in the classroom and finish the work that she finds 'boring.' The bottom line is, she needs to always get some intrinsic and extrinsic motivation going on. We're meeting again in 4 weeks to check her progress on implementing the motivations.

I had some other thoughts after the whole meeting was over. We talked about delayed gratification and long term goals. Grace explained the way she sees her problem. She said that if she were in college studying theatre, she would feel like her work in other classes wouldn't be so bad to keep at. Being at college would mean that she was working towards her goal of being on Broadway. But while she's in high school, that goal is far away and she doesn't feel like the work she's doing in science or math is really getting her anywhere. In other words, the end goal is just too far removed from her day to day tasks to keep her motivated.

(Really, I'm not putting words in her mouth. That's what she told the committee.)

There was a small bit of a negative reaction to her saying that her goal was to be an actress on Broadway. Now, I know that most people (me included) hear things like this and think, 'what a dreamer. Get your head out of the clouds! Stop being so unrealistic and wake up to the world around you!' This is especially the case if the child is not performing well academically. I think that's exactly what the reaction yesterday conveyed. But I suddenly realized something yesterday. If Grace loved science and wanted to be a doctor, she would say her goal was to cure cancer. If Grace loved history and debate and wanted to go to law school, she'd say her goal was to be a Supreme Court justice. The point is, no matter what Grace found as her passion in life, she would dream big. But because her passion is arts and theatre, she is not taken as seriously as she would be if her passion were a field that is more practical, more respected, more mainstream. Indeed, if Grace wanted to be a Supreme Court justice and she was really good at debate and history, but she struggled with math and orchestra and she wasn't reliable at turning in her assignments in any class, I don't think her superiors would scoff at her quite so readily. They scoff because her ultimate goal is to do something they find frivolous, expendable, unnecessary.

I ask you, how should the educational system deal with students who have big dreams but are struggling with how to reach those high goals? No one doubts Grace has the ability to do well in school; her assistant principal told her yesterday he expects that her grades will be mostly A's if she keeps herself focused and turns all her assignments in reliably. Given this, should we continue to smirk at her pie in the sky ideas of moving to NYC and being an actress someday? Would we do the same if she wanted to cure cancer but couldn't stay focused in history class?

Another high point of the meeting was when her assistant principal asked her how she could stay motivated and focused every day in order to reach the big goals (like good grades at the end of a term). She explained that she had read Michael Phelps' book over her winter break and learned a lot about how anyone needs to make incremental goals in order to reach the big goals. In order to make sure he made it to the Olympics and performed the best her could at those games, Michael Phelps and his coach set regular goals for time trials, and smaller still for times in the practice pool, and smaller still for how many laps and sets every day. By doing this, they could see that every stroke in the pool mattered towards reaching the end goal. Grace told the committee that she wanted to figure out what her incremental goals should be in her school work, and that she needed help.

Was I impressed? Yes, I was. As was her assistant principal. He took the tidbit and ran with it. I didn't notice how the others reacted, but I was proud of her. What would have happened if someone had told Michael Phelps he was wasting his time in the pool when he was 10 and failing out of school? What if someone had told him he would never make it to the Olympics because he couldn't even keep himself together to bring everything he needed to practice or show up to his meets on time? Isn't he lucky that his mother believed in him and that he had a coach that was willing to work with him, despite his ADHD? Yeah, it was hard for him, but that didn't stop him. And he has a college degree now and quite a few other accolades to his name. Thank goodness people didn't stop at his lack of motivation in the classroom and convince him to give up on his big dreams.

You see where I'm going with this, right? It's not that I think Grace will be the next Broadway star or anything like that. It's that I think she has goals and she thinks big, and telling her she can't achieve those big goals because she has underlying problems with organization and attention won't help anything. Quite the opposite, this kind of reasoning and argumentation could really hurt her badly. So I think I'm changing my philosophy of parenting. Find your child's passion and run with it. Never tell them they can't achieve what they've set in front of themselves as a goal. Yes, deal with the shortcomings they have and the struggles they face. But don't ever suggest that they can't overcome those things or that they will interfere with their dreams. Maybe they will, but telling them so won't help anything. Life is hard enough of a teacher to us all; we don't need parents to add to our discouragement.

Here we go again on the ADHD cycle

I've been holding off on writing about this because we have had one hell of a roller coaster ride for the last couple months. Tomorrow Grace and I are officially having an appointment with her pediatrician for evaluation of ADHD. The pediatrician has all the paperwork from the school and me in order for this evaluation to go through. We may, indeed, get to the bottom of all this.

"Why now?" you may ask. Great question.

Since Grace was in preschool, she was not quite like the other kids. She was easily distracted and overly talkative. Often she didn't join in what the group was doing. And she had a very difficult time holding still. But she was bright. She was able to keep up with her peers. Sure, her teachers always said she could do more, but that would come in time as she matured.

About the time she was in second grade, she couldn't keep up with what was average in the classroom. It was clear, despite the fact that she seemed bright, that she was doing less than what she could. There was evaluation, intervention, concern, discussion, all sorts of lingo.

Her parents got divorced; maybe this contributed to her symptoms. She moved to a new state and school; maybe that was an interfering factor. She changed schools again where she was in a very different culture (arts magnet school, she was the only white student of 150 students in her grade); maybe that was something she'd have to adjust to. She moved again; she seemed not very disciplined, but she could keep up if her parents made her.

The bottom line is, she was never diagnosed with ADHD and as she grew older, I wasn't sure that a diagnosis would do any good even if she had it. She intentionally threw an evaluation with a school psychologist in 6th grade just because she was mad at being pulled out of class without her consent. And the intervention she got at school didn't seem to help anything since she was still failing math and barely passing science.

We're on year 11 of formal education now. At the end of every school year, she looks about like the typical kid of that grade. But at the start of the next year, she looks very immature and can't really adjust to the demands being put on her. New teachers, new classes, new schedule, new classrooms, new grading systems, it takes months to get used to. Just about the time she gets used to it, the school year is over and all that work of adjustment is lost.

And then came high school. We started the year with a bang. I thought. But slowly it came to light that Grace.....was Grace. Her algebra teacher is very worried. She didn't pass the first term of algebra. Now halfway through the second term, she is failing science and algebra. And all, I repeat all, of her teachers are concerned. Her guidance counselor said, you see all the kids coming down the hall and when you spot her you think, she's hyperactive.

Here's the catch: no amount of intervention, no amount of evaluation, no amount of concern, effort and care, no amount of any of it matters one iota unless the kid wants it and is bought into it. All these school faculty and administration, me and her stepdad, and the lord almighty himself could agree that she needs help, but it does no good if she doesn't want it. So the goal for me in communication with her at this point was, get Grace to realize that everyone is trying to help her. Get her to be involved. Get her to be in power in the situation. Make her understand that she can be completely informed and call all the shots if she wants.

By age 12, Grace had already decided she'd had enough of the system and didn't care if she failed, just as long as she would never have to be singled out as "special" and "needing help" again. How do you convince that kid that it doesn't have to be that way? How do you sell her on the idea of giving it one more chance?

First I promised her, and I made her teachers swear to holding this promise, that all information on her ADHD (or other diagnosis and intervention) would be completely confidential. And then I told her she could come to all the planning meetings and told her what to expect. And the bottom line is, somewhere in this whole situation, I am finding it essential to balance the wishes and will of an almost-adult against what I think is best for her.

In truth, she can choose to completely check out of school. Yeah, I wouldn't be happy about it, but there's really nothing I could do to stop it if that's absolutely what she chose to do. I don't think that's what's going on; I think she genuinely is facing difficulties and she really needs the help of the available specialists in the school and in the medical community. But nonetheless, if she decides that she doesn't want the help, that it's too risky and too high of a cost to be identified as having a disability, I really can't override her choice at this point. I could in practice, but in reality, my override would be impotent and useless.

I am hoping, wishing, dreaming, holding my breath, for the results of all this. Is it possible that she could start taking some medication and in a month she would look like herself sans all the behavior problems? Is it possible that by having all her teachers and administrators on the same page that she could be supported through her school day and be able to stay on track?

I can't believe that she's almost 15 and I haven't even gotten past this stage yet.

Good teachers are a gift.

I recognize that my kid may not be the dream-come-true student for many teachers. She talks too much, she gets distracted, and she has a difficult time paying attention to something she doesn't find interesting. In many ways she is a square peg in the round hole that school presents to her. Thus when she gets a good teacher, I jump up and down in excitement because I know this one is worth their weight in gold.

Grace has an amazing collection of teachers this year. I really cannot say enough about this. You know, you go through years of schooling as a student and as a parent and sometimes you hit some real duds, so when you get a good one, you know it. I, for one, am the first one to tell a good teacher thank you. I know teaching has its ups and its downs and that on some days and with some students it is really a pain. I really cannot do enough for my child's teachers to encourage them that I really am appreciative for all that they do.

One teacher in particular stands out this year -- Grace's science teacher. I can't say enough about him. He is magnificent. He has so many excellent ideas about philosophy of life, er, I mean, philosophy of teaching (is there a difference?). This weekend when I read his weekly newsletter in my email inbox, I couldn't help but yell out in exuberance, "oh, YES!"

On the second page, with a bright red header, he included a short 300 word blurb about ways parents should encourage students who are less than enthusiastic about doing their schoolwork (read: slackers who text message and facebook all day instead of finishing their schoolwork). The teacher wrote, if a parent is threatening to take away privileges (like cell phone use) yet not following through on the threat, the parent is wasting their time. Rather, do what you need to do (like take the cell phone away) and say 'get to work and all will be good again.' Yes, teens will argue and yell and tirade about the swift actions rather than threats, however parents should use the line "I love you too much to argue." Similarly, the teacher uses the line "I respect you too much to argue."

I knew he was good before this tidbit, but oh, I was elated to finally see a teacher who wasn't just talking straight to parents about a philosophy of parenting but also implementing this philosophy in the classroom! Let me explain. Sometimes when I get a phone call from a teacher about a problem with Grace at school, I sense that the call is simply a gripe session. The teacher has called not just to inform me the parent of what the situation is, but to recuse themselves of the situation and place the responsibility for the events solely in my hands. While I agree that parents and discipline at home does have an effect on school behavior and performance, not every problem at school has its roots at home. When I sense that a phone call is developing towards a blame game, I ask the teacher, 'what do you do in your classroom about the situation?' If there is not a satisfactory answer, I explain what we do at home, and encourage the teacher that I will have their back if they are extra strict on my daughter in areas that are causing a disruptions in the classroom. That's usually the last phone call I get.

Word has it that in the district, I am a "tough" parent who "asks hard questions." That's good. I want teachers who ask hard questions too. I want cooperation between home and teachers and schools, not an assumption that teaching is all the school or all at home.

See, I am the parent who took away the cell phone. And the iPod and the Nintendo DS. And the Video Now. And locks the channels on the tv when I'm not at home. And password protects the wireless internet in the house. I limit phone calls on school nights, I make sure my kid dresses in a way for school that doesn't distract her or others. I'm the one who told her that no matter how much she wants to be a professional actress, she is not allowed to audition for a play until I see two consecutive grade reports on honor roll. And if she doesn't pass French this term with a B or higher, she's not even getting to take the theatre course.

I make sure that at every turn I remind her that her education is important and should be prioritized.

I had Grace read the teacher's blurb. About halfway through she started smirking. By the time she got to the end she was smiling. I told her I loved her and it looked like she had a super teacher who really cared about her success in school and in life. Then I emailed the teacher to thank him. He replied "Hey, thanks for the positive comment on the newsletter and my philosophy in the class. Grace is great in class."

Oh, YES!!!!!!!!! Grace is great in class! It happened! It finally happened! I contacted a teacher of Grace's and the reply was POSITIVE!!! YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!

I didn't realize how dry the desert was out there looking for a positive sign from her teachers. Over the years I have developed an ability to always find the silver lining in whatever her teachers communicate to me. Because all of what they communicate is negative. I never get a note home that says, "Grace is great in my class." I never get a teacher seeing me and approaching me to talk about Grace in a positive way. My correspondences with Grace's teachers have always been tainted with something that needs to be improved, changed, remedied, etc. I wish I could say that I am overgeneralizing on this, but alas, I am not. I have never gotten an unadulterated compliment of my daughter's performance or behavior or person from one of her teachers.

I don't think I realized how down I was about this. I'm sure Grace has felt my emotions about this. I'm sure it hasn't helped her to be working in an environment that projects this negativity upon her (both home and school).

So, two lessons learned. First, as a parent, stand by your kid. No matter how much negative feedback you get from the school, no matter how much you have to reprimand you kid to get them on track, no matter how frustrated you feel about the situation, stand by them and encourage them. You may be the only one who communicates this positive message to them. Second, as a teacher, remember that the problem student in your class may NEVER have had a teacher or coach or scout leader or counselor or anyone ever tell them they were good at something. If you approach them as someone who needs fixing, you just add to the negative message. You are not the one they have been waiting for who is going to send the right harsh message to get their butt in gear; rather, you are probably the 10th or 20th or 100th person to think you are so enlightened. These students especially need positive messages.

Tomorrow, I have a feeling we're going to delve deeper into Heather's experience as a childhood troublemaker.

smooth transitions and house tours

I'm about to move. Two weeks. The whole thing has made me a little irrational. Yesterday I really did go to the websites of Crate&Barrel and Williams-Sonoma (I registered at both when I got married) looking for something new for my Thanksgiving table. It's not as if I don't already have plenty of stuff for a lovely holiday tabletop and more for decorations around the house. In fact, I have way too much stuff like this. I have so much stuff that there are still wedding gifts that my husband and I got received more than three years ago that haven't been used yet. I am probably the last person on the planet that needs to think about making a new purchase of china or serving pieces or tablecloths or home decorations.

(I will stop here to mention that I cannot possibly be more sick of this stuff than either of these two bloggers: Little Miss Sunshine State who just quit her job at Pottery Barn and Angela of angelawd who is blogging about her current stint at "Home Decorating Store." I promise I am not one of those crazy customers who acts like the world will fall apart if the subtle hues of my cloth napkins doesn't complement the rich tones in my cranberry sauce just perfectly.)

But the point is this: moving into a new house can make one a little giddy and, at time, silly. This apparently is more of an issue with the women than the men. It is with this realization that I question the sensibility of next Monday's home tour of the most famous house in this here fair country of the United States: The White House. President-elect Barack Obama and current President George W. Bush have decided upon next Monday for the date of the first of what will undoubtedly be many talks in order to ensure a smooth transition of a change of power during a time when the country is involved in two wars. While all that is well and good and not particularly interesting, what is interesting is the sub-headline to this news. Michelle Obama, of course, will be accompanying her husband to Washington for this visit. While the menfolk talk about politics and all those heavy things, the womenfolk will be discussing lighter matters in the White House residence. That's right -- Michelle Obama is getting a tour of the White House residence given by none other than First Lady Laura Bush.

Hm.

It's not that I think Michelle or Laura need to be involved in the talks about matters of state. It's not that I wouldn't want to do the same thing if I were in Michelle's shoes. It's the obvious nature in which this of course seems like the thing for the two of them to do. I mean, what else would Michelle Obama be doing? Clearly her husband can't be involved in such petty things as a house tour.

What if a woman were president? Would her husband come along for a house tour of the White House residence given by the current First Spouse?

I just bring this up to say, I feel like it will be a long time before that and many other glass ceilings are broken. I know that a lot of people got really excited that we were almost there with Hillary. But putting politics aside for a moment, realize that you've now put two women up for VP and one up for president and none have won. In contrast, the first African American MAN that made a serious run for the office won. No, I don't think Sarah Palin is the woman we wanted to see there. And the electorate revealed that Hillary Clinton, though very well-supported, was not the first pick of democratic voters in the primary. Since I was in 7th grade when Geraldine Ferraro ran for VP, I can't very well speak to that campaign season and election, so I won't. But still, when will it happen? Why is it so hard?

I know, I know, we can cite counterexamples in order to demonstrate that women really are pulling ahead. Nancy Pelosi. Madeleine Albright. Condi Rice. Sandra Day O'Connor. But I can't help noticing that these very talented women don't exactly constitute 50% of those who have held their positions, even in recent days. Before the election Tuesday, the Senate composition was 16 women, 84 men. Want a scarier statistic? Only 35 women have ever been a senator since the Senate's inception in 1789. In the House as of this past Monday, the composition was 79 women*, 356 men. Should I go on? Governors? Presidents of Universities? Supreme Court Justices? CEOs? International heads of state? How about this: Home owners. Engineers. Computer Scientists. Billionaires. What makes me sad about making this list is that I don't even have to do the research; we already know women are radically under-represented in positions of power.

Frustrated yet? I am. I'm sure that this past election will open people's eyes to the possibilities of leadership beyond white men. But I'm not holding my breath waiting for people to get over their prejudices against women in power.

I feel under-represented. It's not that I don't find men capable or that I don't want to work for them. I just don't want to have to always search for the exemplars of someone in power of whom I can think, now that person really understands my situation.

That's it.

*By the way, in case you're interested, I couldn't help noticing that 59 of those 79 U.S. House representatives are Democrats. Roughly 75%. And the number of female governors currently in the U.S.? 9, only 3 of which are Republicans. If that's not evidence of which party supports women, I don't know what is.

Three strikes, you're out

I don't let Grace wear tank tops outside of on the pool deck and around the house with family. I don't mean cute shirts that are loose that just happen to not have sleeves. I'm talking about those tank tops that fit like a glove, sometimes with flirty lace trim, and often with a low neckline and revealing armholes. They're designed to make a woman look good. Maybe a little too good. She has about six of these tank tops. Don't ask me 'if you don't like them so much, then where did she get them?' Who bought them for her and under what auspices is a whole other blog post in and of itself.

Twice last week one of the tank tops made it to school. I won't bore you with the details, but there was plenty of warning at home that of course she wouldn't wear the tank top alone, she would wear a shirt over it. Unfortunately, when someone makes videos during the school day and posts them to the web, your mother can find out that you indeed wore only the tank top all day.

For all three years of middle school we had huge problems with what should and what shouldn't be worn out in public. Not just tank tops, but lots of outfits that were definitely not within my range of what should be worn outside in public. I've explained, I've offered advice, I've encouraged with lots of feminist lingo, I've yelled, I threatened, I've had her hair cut short, I've taken away her clothing, I've given away her clothing, you name it. Yet here we are in the first week of ninth grade with two infractions. I warned her, I'm not going down this path again. Do Not Push Me. Heed My Warning. There Will Be Consequences If You Don't Adhere To My Rules.

Grace just came in at 9 pm after a full day of school, swim practice, homework study hall, and then a game with friends. She walked through the hallway quickly past me. I looked up long enough to see the outfit, and when she was out of sight I called to her to come back. She went to the restroom. She called, 'hold on!' She came out in about 3 minutes, now in her night clothes. And then the drama began.

I took away the tank tops. All six. She's mad. She said that now she can't layer her shirts over her tank tops. Mind you, I've never actually seen her layer the t-shirts over the tank tops unless she's in front of me. As soon as she's out of my sight, it's off with the shirt and in with much less.

OK, here's my big problem with this. It's the issue of me having a rule, a well articulated rule, and that my daughter absolutely refuses to follow it. The fact that I have a reason for why I made the rule doesn't matter. If she doesn't agree with me, she will not follow the rule, case closed. I feel like my rules apply only when she there is a chance she will get caught. They really don't apply at all then, right?

Actually, there's a much bigger problem with the whole thing. It's not so much about the clothes and appearance and more about me wanting her to work within the boundaries I've given her. I know what the kids are wearing these days, and I let her do stuff that is reasonable. But when I'm telling her to curb it because she's doing a little too much advertising, it's really important to me. She just sees me getting upset over nothing and not 'getting it.' But I'm worried about a much bigger picture. She's a girly girl and she's perceived as being shallow and flighty. She talks too much, and her teachers don't like it. She says 'I just don't get math and science,' even though she's bright. And the boys hit on her. They hit on her all the time. I guess I'm lucky that she doesn't notice it as much as I do. She's just not the picture of a soon-to-be-successful woman, you know? Is it so hard to convince a girl that rising above all the girl talk and gossip is so much better than the superficiality we all regret in our adulthood?

All this to say, I don't think that provocative attire is helping her. I want her to wake up and realize that the years are passing. This is exactly the stage of life in which women fall behind, way behind. Tween and teen girls worry about what they look like and whether that boy noticed them and who's popular and how my locker is decorated and how many times I went to the mall. They don't realize that opportunity is slipping through their fingers like sand while they are distracted with the superfluous.

I've convinced myself that the hour I just spent fuming over this was a reaction to something much bigger than the single infraction itself. But I'm not yet convinced that my daughter sees the bigger picture.

Still Euphoric

School's been in session for a week. So far, so good. I keep waiting for the bottom to drop out, though.

13 short weeks ago when middle school was over, I was discouraged. I feared that the struggles of schoolwork would always be with Grace. Despite the continuous difficulties that my child faces in school due to behavior and poor academic performance, I go into a temporary state of hopefulness when she starts the school year every fall, believing that this year will be different. I believe that I will enjoy going to her school. I believe that when I get there, one of her teachers will be happy with her and tell me about it. But as I've said over and over, that's never happened. I'm unsure why I still go through this cycle, maybe it's some kind of motherly optimism or something.

Grace got an award from her science teacher on the third day of school because she was the first one to turn in her homework online the night before. The award was something like science student of the day. She also turned in a second science assignment a day early. The science teacher liked what she had done and used the project she had completed as an example in other classes for students who hadn't gotten a chance to start yet. Today she said she likes her science teacher the best of her teachers. After that, she likes her algebra teacher best. She's completing her homework for algebra and science right away, and with no help, and getting As.

Shocked? If you aren't, I'll remind you of my frenzied and frazzled state less that 3 months ago and 6 months ago. Is it possible that maybe it's all coming together?

Maybe it's the rigors of being on the swim team that's made the difference. Hard work and a strict schedule, that is.

Maybe I am still euphoric because I'm still taking vicadin.

Or maybe it's because I'm an owl. In Brazilian Portuguese there is a term "mãe coruja" which literally translates as "owl mother." It's a positive thing to say about a mom and it can be extended to fathers as well - "pai coruja." To aid in our better understanding this term, here is visual aid, the Great Horned Owlet, common to much of Brazil:


Owlets are not attractive at all. They are weird looking. Yes, they grow out of it and they look fine in the end, but only a mother could love something so ugly and believe it would amount to anything. Every mother loves her kid and thinks they are wonderful. It doesn't matter what other people think of the kid or what they really look like compared to the rest of the world. The kid is unique and special to its own mother. So no matter what has happened, no matter what your kid is like, no matter how discouraged you or your kid gets, you still think they are wonderful because they're your kid.

Sappy as it may seem, I think this is the only reasonable explanation I can give for why I continually go through this pattern of thoughts every school year.

***Picture taken from http://www.dosgatos.com/birds/owls/photo004.html***

Not done

Recommended mathematics enrichment course during summer school.

3 hours a day, 5 days a week.

The course is recommended 'to ensure progress in high school curriculum in the following academic year.'

I am sighing. I am trying very hard not to react badly. I am remembering what happened to me when I 'finished' 8th grade. I want to be encouraging.

She is being very mature about this and facing the situation in a realistic, practical, and even-tempered way.

Help. Me. Not. Become. Emotional. About. This.

Teachable Tuesday

This! Is what I have learned from Grace this week!

A few weeks ago I wrote about how Grace doesn't like to have music on her iPod that she doesn't intend to listen to. I thought, what difference does it make? Just don't listen to those playlists if you don't want to hear it.

I thought, it is too much work and maintenance for me to update three iPods manually on a semi-regular basis -- GIVEN THAT IT IS MY MACBOOK that contains the comprehensive iTunes library. If everyone could just tell me what songs they want, I'll just manually add those. But until we have a family computer where each person can customize their own updates, it is too much trouble for me to also delete tracks you don't listen to anymore.

My increasingly tech-savvy daughter explained to me why it is worth updating your iPod with only those songs and playlists that you want at that time. She told me that if there are songs on there she doesn't want, she can't just set the iPod to shuffle. She keeps hitting songs that she doesn't want to hear, and then she has to skip through them, and that interrupts her listening pleasure, and the battery has a shorter life due to all the manual skipping about.

Ah, oh, yes. That makes sense. Funny how this compulsion of mine to upload the entire iTunes library onto my iPod makes me steer away from using the shuffle function. I've actually considered before that the shuffle function would be a cool way for me to listen to music on long trips or drives without getting bored of the same old playlists shuffled over and over. But then I realized that this would be really bothersome because the shuffle would include songs that I don't care for. Like Fergie and Rodney Atkins. So I never use the shuffle function, despite my wish that it would shuffle only through the songs I like and play them randomly.

Grace in essence taught me how iPods are supposed to be used. iPods are designed to be temporarily customized, not to serve as a portable version of your entire library. Duh.

I also learned from this that it would be the most useful if each iPod user had access to the iTunes library so that they could create their own playlists and preferences.

On a separate note, I noticed that lately ratings for songs have been showing up on the library that I did not put there. I asked Grace if she had done this ranking on my computer. She said, she had done it on her iPod and the rankings must have overwritten onto the library. I thought that the hard drive on the iPod would not write to the iTunes directory, only the other way around. But I don't really keep up on these things because I'm just a humble user. Does anyone know if this is true? What happens if both she and I have the same songs on our iPods and update them on the same computer? If she changes something on her iPod, will it rewrite the file on computer and then additionally rewrite it on my iPod at my next update? I know her On-The-Go playlists get written to the iTunes library. Hmmm...

AAUW reports on so-called "boys' crisis"

Recently the 'boy's crisis' has made headlines, reporting that attention to the needs of girls in the classroom is resulting in the fall of boys' success in the same setting. Today the American Association of University Women (AAUW) AAUW released the most comprehensive analysis to date on trends in educational achievement by gender, race, ethnicity, and income. This report directly addresses the so-called 'boy's crisis' and its results demonstrate that girls' successes do not come at the expense of boys'.

See here for the press release at the AAUW's website. Gender equity in the classroom is still a huge issue. These statistics are real and not inflated.

If you are a woman, teacher or parent, this issue affects you directly. The discrepancies won't just disappear. Somehow the idea was trumped up that boys' drop in success in the classroom was directly related to addressing gender inequity. And it's easy to believe this idea is correct because it makes logical sense. The problem is that the facts, research and data don't support that conclusion.

Women are drastically underrepresented in the sciences, as many can attest. Check out FemaleScienceProfessor for a view from a women at the top of the sciences.

On gender inequity, my belief is that the discrepancy begins in elementary school. By the time girls are in pre-adolescence, the grand majority believe that boys are smarter than they are and that many traditionally male-oriented fields are beyond their grasp. By the time they are graduating from high school, the rift is many times too broad to hurdle. If we are to make a real change in in favor of gender equity, we need to pay attention to the elementary school classroom.

Web-kid

A few days ago I found this video at sociolinguistics and cmc. I think it is so cool and well done. I showed it to Grace yesterday. At first I thought it might go to fast for her to follow. Then I remembered that hers is a new generation and mine is actually the one who might have difficulty following it. She knew what Web 2.0 was and actually explained it to me better than I understood it already. Enjoy!

Footnote - We visited to myspace issue at the same time. In the midst of the discussion she said, 'do you want just see my page and see whether it's ok?' She understands way more about code than I do. It's quite a cool myspace page, I must say. Much more aesthetically pleasing than the 12-year-old version was.