September 12, 2010

(Trenton, NJ) We’ve done it.

In an attempt to adequately educate our children, and save some money to apply toward future educational and enrichment endeavors for which my wife and I aspire instead of private school tuition, we have placed a child in the Trenton Public School System. First grade, to be exact.

The blessing that allowed us to place our child in the best possible environment within a school system I’ve heard called everything from “broken”, to just “flat-out f*%#ed up”, offers a sad glimpse of the state of education in My Town. Because the Annual Yearly Progress (AYP) of the elementary school closest to us has been so small for a certain number of years, we are afforded the opportunity to shop those elementary schools that have performed well in recent years, then make a formal request to the Board of Education to allow our child to attend that school we’ve chosen. For a few weeks this summer, my child was a scholastic free agent. My wife, the advocate/agent, meeting with teachers, administrators and anyone else who offered advice in this area based on experiences and opinion, then retelling it all to me. The more my wife researched, visited and discussed this choice, the more I realized how many parents in This Town don’t even know they have this privilege, to opt their children out of a public school in their neighborhood, to which the child assigned, that has perennially failed to adequately educate and prepare them during the most important stage of learning, kindergarten to 5^th grade, and place their child in a public school that is more academically productive. If they only read their mail.

So not only am I working toward becoming certified to teach, I now have a child whose first day in a public school here was one of pride and angst for him and the rest of our family. My mom came to town to walk her grandson to school on his first day. My child had his own paparazzi, his mom, dad and grandmere, capturing it all via photo and video. From the time he walked into the cafeteria of his new school, he had this happily bewildered look on his face. I think he shed some light on that expression later that day.

Let me say I’m proud of the number of fathers who brought their children to school, both at my child’s school, and the school where I worked. Some fathers looked happy to be there, others didn’t. Some held hands with their wives and baby’s mamas, some walked a few steps away with little interaction between them and the woman with whom they concieved the child as the principals or Before/After School Program persons spoke. Doesn’t matter on days like that. The father or male guardian was there. That physically minute act of parental involvement means the world to the child. Gentlemen, it didn’t matter if you didn’t remove your hat when you entered the school, or if you wore jeans sagging- part of the reason your son wears his that way. You were there. In the coming year, I hope to pass you on the way to Parent/Teacher conference with my child’s teacher, get a chance to meet you at a PTO meeting, or maybe combine parenting skills as chaperones on a field trip.

In my attempt to stay abreast of issues that socio-economically affect Our City, one way or another, I have a preconceived opinion about its public school system. Looks like a child can easily fall through the cracks if they don’t, at some point (hopefully sooner than later), apply themselves in pursuit of knowledge through education and, with the support and guidance of parents, teachers, mentors, etc., develop a plan whose end result is an educated young adult, well on the way to becoming an adult who can live and think independently. Hopefully, they will live and raise families in This City, the state’s capital. Its citizenry then predominated by people who respect themselves, their neighbors and their environment. Homeowners who vote and stay involved because, while in middle or high school, a much larger percentage of these now-grown men and women learned about the effort of those who gave life and limb so that they can own a home AND not worry about a cross being burned in the yard. Respect would have developed, which would result in a prouder, stronger, more vibrant municipality.

But, after at least three generations (I’ve only been here 10 years, but that’s what “more seasoned” residents of My New Town tell me) of talk, dependency on aid from any source that’s giving, and more talk, that hasn’t happened. That said, I  pray that constantly reminding our child that he is God’s Child, we love him and are very proud of him no matter what, along with reinforcement of basic math and other learning principles at home will get my child through whatever amount of time he spends matriculating through the Trenton Public School System. I pray that everyone, from the school security guards to the principal, recognize my child’s respect for all life and zest for learning so he can connect what he learns in the classroom with the visits to the zoos, museums, and aquariums, then share it all with any classmate, teacher, paraprofessional, or lunch lady at his school who will listen.

There were some tears on the first day, during that initial meeting between teacher and pupil, but my child sucked it up and went on to have a great day. He was proud to know the questions the teacher asked during reading and math, proud that he followed the teacher’s directions all day.  He looked forward to the coming school week. My wife and I were beside ourselves to see him display a demeanor the polar opposite from his first days of kindergarten in a class where he was the only child of color and, on some days, pleaded to stay home. Then, while further discussing his day with my wife, he dropped it, what I feel was the reason for that look on his face when he saw all his new schoolmates that morning. “There’s more brown people there than at my old school”.

Skip Harrison is an educator, freelance journalist, and parent, residing in Trenton, New Jersey.