Elaine Tse shares about the struggle of finding a high school for her oldest son.
Lyrics from Nelly Furtado’s song “I’m Like a Bird” float through my head as I watch the ‘V’ of Canadian geese fly overhead. Winter is coming. My toddler son had pronounced from his car seat, “That song scares me.” I paused to reflect that not having a home would be very unsettling to a child who loves his stuffed animals, picture books and his warm bed. And, now, my newly teenaged son is in the predicament of finding his next academic home.
I think that I am struggling with his leaving our magic bubble of a tiny kindergarten to 8th grade school more than he is. I am avoiding the big feelings by focusing on the minutia of the high school application process.
Should we use every single one of the allotted 1,200 characters on the parent questionnaire? Or, should we toss the entire application process into the electronic dust bin and happily dance our way to the local high school?
I know that whatever the outcome of the process, my son will settle into his new school. I remind myself that, in four years, we will have to choose a college or a trade school. Then, what next? There will be very little long-term permanence for the foreseeable future.
