New School for Emma

As we do on most weekday mornings, Emma and I walked off to her school today. Neither of us were simmering about the clothes Emma was wearing or about the amount of TV   she'd watched, or not, and we weren't late.  We shared a cozy journey under the water-color blue sky.  We passed the cafe which smelled like hot breakfast.  She'd greeted the dogs and their walkers along Holland Street.  We'd called out to friends in the parking-lot and in the hallway.

I know that, if I wanted to,  I could pull out a calender and count the days on which we'll make the same trip, but I don't want to do that.  Doing that would make me sad because  I would get ready to miss buddies and teachers, the well-stocked classrooms and the new playground.   Emma has been attending the Tufts Educational Day-Care Center since she was 2.9 years old.  When Emma was born, Liam had been in Kindergarten there, so we started counting the days before would start Green Group the week that she was born.   For me, her first day of Green Group felt like coming home.   I knew that I could trust the place the day that Emma first walked through the door,  and I knew I was telling the truth when I'd promised she would have fun.

Emma knows she will be going to Kindergarten in September, so we talked about taking a little walk to her “new school” this weekend.    She's looking forward to the new school already.  Her buddy Miranda from next door will be there too, and Emma loves this. I think that going to school with her must make Emma feel like she has one a prize.  I'm thinking happily about rides to school on cold, rainy mornings, but I don't think this occurs to Emma.

Miranda is the only friend of Emma's whom we know for sure will be going to her new school.  Some friends  will be staying at T.E.D.C.C.,  and others will be diving straight into private schools. Some kids will be attending the Somerville school known as the place to go for a little old-fashioned academic rigor. 

During the last week of school last year, the school Superintendent in this town announced that the Progressive program Liam has attended since Kindergarten would end next year.  He talks about how blending bits of what had once made the program almost work into the whole school would make it better for everyone.  This may be true, but I'm far from confident it will happen.  I don't trust the Superintendent ( Hell, he just canceled the choice I'd made!), and I don't know the Principal ( last guy cut out in May).  What they are planning sounds great, it could be the place to be, but I'm not sending my daughter into an experiment.  Liam wants to stay at the school another year because this is his world.  He'll stay with the same teacher because one aspect of the late-lamented program that they want to keep ( for now ) is two grades in each classroom.  We like his teacher a lot, so he'll stay.   In the 7th grade, he'll be at Emma's school. 

In September, Somerville will be full of five-year-olds coming into unfamiliar places, their new backpacks on their backs.  They might have one old friend in their class, they might have met other classmates at the events schools are planning for the young ones.  Some kids may find themselves sitting next to kids they see at the park but have never talked to, kids that live on the next street.  The classrooms will be filled with kids who wonder who will sit with them at lunch.  Everyone is going to be together in this; it's all new to all of them.

It will be new to me too.  In September, I'll still be walking her to school, but we will have to be there an hour earlier than we often come strolling into Blue Group.  I'll take her to the door, and hand her over to her teacher.  I won't get to walk in and check out what's going on in the classroom.  I won't learn to recognize the kids or their parents until some class event. I won't be able to watch Emma settling in to play with her new friends.

To Emma, new school may seem like nothing but a big adventure.  In August, she might not be so sure.   She knows it's happening, but it may still seem kind of vague.  Maybe it's not going to be fully real until the morning we go to the top of our street and start walking the further away from the day care center.  I know she will be fine, but she may have a shock coming.   I hope she realizes she's ready for it.  This weekend, she wants to take a walk to her new place.   She wants to really like it, and I hope she does.