Tripping Over My Roots

image via about.com

fall is here, hear the yell
back to school, ring the bell
brand new shoes, walking blues
climb the fence, book and pens
i can tell that we are gonna be friends

-- The White Stripes

We’ve had a fantastic summer – swimming, camp, s’mores, drive-in movies, ice cream, boating – but fall is just around the corner.  Fall is my favorite season.  Some of it is the crisp weather, pumpkin spice lattes, and sweaters, but part of it – a large part of it – is school.  I attended school for 21 years, if you count preschool, and I’m a bookworm, so of course I love back-to-school season.  I still remember the excitement of picking out a new Trapper Keeper every August and the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and new paper.

As I am a working mom and a proponent of early education, my kids have attended Montessori school full-time from the age of two, but this fall, my oldest child starts REAL school.  Robert left toddlerhood long ago, of course, but kindergarten marks the true entry into the abyss that is childhood.  I am a bit sad, in a way, because it really does fly by as quickly as everyone tells you it will.  Mostly, I am excited with a dash of nervousness thrown in the mix.  I see so much of myself in Robert, which is some ways is wonderful (his sense of humor, his abilities as a storyteller) and in some ways heart-wrenching (how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t do something perfectly on the first try).  Finding the best fit for his personality and learning style became somewhat of an obsession.

image via www.sweetcoconutlime.com

I grew up in a rural Kentucky town, where there were no options other than public school.  Even if there had been a nearby private school, my family wouldn’t have been able to swing the tuition.  Being a successful professional after being raised in a working class family breeds insecurity, and that insecurity cuts both ways.  You never quite shake the feeling that you'll be discovered as a fake by your friends and colleagues, despite the upper middle class trappings surrounding you.  You will also always be self-conscious of how your family views your choices.  I’ll never forget what a hard time my dad, whose teasing often belies a kernel of truth, gave me when he found out I’d hired a cleaning lady.  In the end, the opportunity to gift Robert with the best education we could afford far outweighed any doubts I harbored about whether we were "good enough" for private school or what my family would think.

The Jefferson County public schools are assigned by lottery and the quality is spotty.  Although we were lucky to be accepted into a solid elementary school, we haven't decided in what part of town to settle and didn't want to limit our house search parameters.  Class size and middle school horror stories were a concern as well.  We considered Catholic school too; Louisville has a long tradition of parochial education and my husband and children are of the Catholic faith.  The class size at the parish schools closest to us rivaled that of the public schools.  Paying tuition for Robert to be in a class with 28 other kids just didn't make sense.  Plus, my little hippie, liberal, democrat self was unsure if I could take it, so we turned to the handful of independent private schools in Louisville.

Louisville's private school admissions process isn't cutthroat like New York City or even Atlanta, but it was still pretty eye-opening, especially for a newcomer.  In Louisville, where you send your kids to school is invariably one of the first questions people ask each other upon meeting.  A few of the open houses I attended were my idea of hell, with endless streams of cringe-inducing questions and comments: what do you do for a living; where did you go to high school; do you “do” spring break in Europe (seriously); you’ll love it here…ALL the families are doctors or lawyers.  School was a hot topic at every birthday party and tee ball game, and I learned much more from these discussions than I did at any school tour.  The most important takeaway was that most moms seemed as mystified by the admissions process and as unsure of the choices as I did.  After all the worry, research, entrance exams, and open houses, we did end up finding a perfect fit for us, and I knew it the second I walked in the door.  Funny how that works.   Walden is small (Robert will only have 13 classmates this year), diverse (for Louisville, anyway), and wonderfully warm and genuine.  We can't wait for school to start.  How about you?

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