Audra had her kindergarten open house last night.  Sarah and I dutifully attended along with hundreds of other parents all eager to do what good parents are supposed to do.  We watched as the PTO president, someone who clearly sees a Vice Presidency slot in her future, took the stage and prattled on about things we needed to sell.  (frozen pizzas and wrapping paper.  How original). 

My wife and I sat and spent most of the engrossing presentation making comments to each other.  I later asked her how in the world we had become the bad kids who sat in the back of the room and made jokes while the teacher was talking.  In our previous lives as students, we were the nerdy ones that sat in the front of the class and eagerly raised our hands while saying “ooh ooh, I know, I know!”  She said it was probably all my fault and that she used to be a very polite young lady before she met me.  Unfortunately, I suspect she’s right.

We then had the staff of the school introduced by the principal.  Name after name was called until the stage in the cafegymnatorium was filled with 30 or so white women between the ages of 30 and 50.  The lack of diversity was a little shocking to me.  I haven’t been in a room with that many white people since  …. Damn…. I have no idea.  I literally can not remember a time since we moved to Maryland when I have been in a single room with that many white people.  It’s a little unnerving.  I felt like I was at the republican convention (less cowboy hats though).

Anyway, we then fought through the stream of salmon and got to our daughter’s very nice classroom.  The teacher went through all of the important things we needed to know, like, don’t send caprisuns – (they’re messy) and be sure to sign up to clean the turtle tank (Hmmm, maybe I’ll just volunteer to go on a field trip or something).

We had the one crazy parent ask a bunch of random questions, effectively identifying herself as the problem maker for the next 13 years.   We had the other parent who obsessed about unimportant details “Do you think it’s ok to use caprisuns at home?  I don’t want to set up a bad model for future behavior. What about Juicy Juice?  It claims to be 100% juice, but is it the right kind of juice?  Would you prefer 80% juice so that she’s getting a sufficient amount of water mixed in with the fruit content?”

Then the teacher explained some of the curriculum and talked about how kindergarten is always difficult because there is a wide range of abilities.

“Some kids don’t even know how to write the number 5.  So we have to stop and work on that.”

At this point I will stop and provide a short lecture about what’s wrong with our American public school system.

“What’s Wrong With our American Public School System” by Better Off Dad

Do you know why some kids don’t know how to write a number 5?  Because it’s kindergarten.   It’s the first year of school.  For some kids they have been in school 5 days now and that’s it.  Sure, most kids went to preschool (of varying qualities) but until we have a universal preschool program we need to stop expecting our kids to know things when they come into kindergarten. 

When I was a kid, kindergarten was when they taught you your abcs and numbers.  Now, if you don’t know that stuff coming in, you’re already behind.  Kindergarten curriculum now assumes that you know a ton of stuff that 20 years ago was taught in kindergarten.  Kids essentially start school in what used to be a first or second grade curriculum. 

Here’s the problem.  My daughter is in a very nice school, but it is not representative of many of the schools in the country.  When I taught in Detroit, I regularly had maybe 2 parents show up for open house, not 98% attendance like at my daughter’s school.  As you might imagine, the kids coming into the Detroit school system had not always had the best preschool education, if one at all.  Sure, there’s headstart, but it’s poorly funded and doesn’t have room for all of the kids who qualify.  So, many of these kids start off school not knowing their numbers, or abcs, or colors, or shapes.  They literally walk into school on the first day of kindergarten – the first day of required public education - and they are already two years behind. 

Our entire school system and the standardized tests that go along with it are based on the assumption that kids have already attended two years of quality preschool and have learned a number of things in that period.  There is virtually no way to catch up when you are teaching an entire class of kids who are two years behind.  And most of the time you don’t catch up.   Hence the appalling graduation rates in our nations poorest high schools.

Ok, I could write about that for another 50 pages or so, but I’m not sure anyone cares.

Anyway, after our little talk by the teacher, whom I like a great deal, we wandered around the room.  We saw Audra’s locker and the housekeeping area she talks about all the time.  We also made a point of seeing where the crazy boy sits (we’ll call him Bob).  Apparently Bob is the one kid who always gets in trouble and has been sent to the principal’s office several times (according to our prone to hyperbole daughter).  We found Bob’s seat.  He had drawn all over his paper name plate and ripped up most of the tape that was holding it down.  That sucker wouldn’t last the week. 

I sighed.  I’ve taught Bob before.  I’ve taught lots of Bobs.  In fact, a whole class full of Bobs.  Bob has a rough road ahead of him, (although at least he’s not in Detroit). 

We then went up and did the obligatory “how’s Audra doing” conversation.  The teacher said that she’s doing fine and then jokingly asked “did you know her birthday is in 10 days?”

Yes, we did.  In fact, everyone does.  We know.  Her Sunday school teacher knows.   The check out lady at Target knows.  Any human within earshot of my daughter knows the precise number of days until her birthday. 

So, we finished back to school night and headed home.  We’re real parents now - open house attenders, members of a PTO, sellers of Joe Corbis Frozen pizza. 

We used to just be the snarky folks in the back of the room.  How did this happen?

As Sarah would say, it’s probably all my fault.