As much as I hate to admit it, our oldest son is going to high school in September. I consider us lucky to have schools like ours, and I make that confident claim as a teacher in the same district. Our neighborhood school has a strong reputation for things like high test scores, strong teachers, rousing school spirit, and many people would be quite happy to send their kids there, no questions asked. But I'm not one to sign up for much of anything without asking questions, so he applied to two nearby alternative programs.
He earned a place in a school with the International Baccalaureate program, known for its intense academic rigor. We were pleased for this achievement, but it turned out that there were enough slots for any qualifying students, so beyond having the grades and a suitable essay, there wasn't any risk for metaphorical elbows to shove him out of line. Is this even the right fit for him? We were hoping we wouldn't have to decide.
We stalked the mailman this afternoon because we knew he had the envelope revealing his lottery number for his first choice for a high school, the one he claimed, "I want to go here with all of my heart," after a tour of the building. This alternative program, which brags of a democratic approach, among other things, welcomes 69 sixth graders, and then reopens its doors to only ten ninth graders. While it wasn't any surprise to us that he wasn't one of the lucky ten, we were all sad to see the number 74 on the letter. Sad, indeed.
From three possibilities, we're down to two. Now which one will he choose?
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