Breaking Ground


What comes to your mind when you think of "breaking ground"? I think about the shiny new junior high building at our old school. Or perhaps the sparkling new school that we're at now. I think about a new thought or idea that is innovative and filled with potential - a ground breaking idea. I infrequently consider the letter "g" but I suppose I'm yet again the only one.


The letter "g" is ground breaking in that it goes below the line that you're suppose to write on. Like this: g. Well, the typed "g" is apparantly only a little bit ground breaking, it hasn't quite realized it's delicious potential as a letter.

Today, was our first parent teacher conference. We were allotted 20 minutes while the kids went to music and fortunately arrived promptly. The teacher who is completely lovely, rushed us through a thick folder of kindergarten level tests, showing off 100% after 100% before she broke the bad news. Our son just isn't up to snuff in writing. "His g's don't break the ground and his i's don't touch the ground. See?" And then we were shown a standardized kindergarten penmanship paper that should have better demonstrated the flaw that we were somewhat unable to recognize. The 'g' that he had made rested above the line.


We actually know, have had regular contact with, and really like this teacher so she quickly sized up our absolutely all-consuming horror. If you've read much of this written account of our adventures in school swapping (it is like wife swapping but you don't get your own wife back), then you probably know that our horror was not related to the fear that our son's "g's and i's" have of the ground. It was related to the littany of tests splayed before us. She quickly let us know that "every single kindergartener in the state takes these exact same tests and if I ruled the world, well, things might be different but they aren't".


And here is what we have spent 3 years paying for (which this very kind teacher now knows). We paid for and seem to have adopted a ground breaking disdain for standardized testing, a feeling that we don't have standard kids, and a certain validation of our perspective which looks something like "he won't go up for his Bar Mitzvah with his g's above the line". But I do wonder if we needed to pay for that perspective. If there isn't perhaps a way to manage "testing" without really showcasing it to the children or letting them know about their shortcomings. If there isn't a way for them to succeed and excel without knowing, all the while actually collecting, the metrics.

I asked subtly about this idea but it seems that the skills "build" on each other year after year so the ability to create the written 'g' in all it's perfect glory is prized beyond a single classroom. Which, as we all know, means that it's a system and not a classroom that requires conquering and redefining. And that system conquerization is probably more that I'm up for.

Another little example. On our Kindergartener's report card (21 dimensions were rated therein), he received mostly "Growth" on his behaviors. Now, as you well know, he is a "green" kid and so I would by fibbing were I to say that I wasn't surprised by the "B" equivalent against most behavioral standards. I asked about this in the conference today and was met with a curious and insightful reply. The reply was this: "most kids get a G rating because we don't want them to get an S (the next highest) and have nothing to work toward for the rest of the year". As though a 5 year old would get in his mind that he should rest on his laurels and start acting up because he had Kindergarten in the bag. Or some parent might pressure their kid to step it up because they didn't achieve to the highest kindergarten rating. Well, maybe they would. I guess I just wouldn't. And maybe this system that I'm plotting my battle plans for as we speak, isn't made up of people who think like me. Bummer.

I still haven't made the choice about who belongs here and who belongs there. I still haven't made up my mind that one system is better than any other, but I'm closing in on a few thoughts that perhaps I'll share later.

Oh, I learned too today that my son, among his very specific array of faults, couldn't identify a sphere when he began kindergarten. How embarrassing for me.

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