This morning, we took Nate for his second private school “assessment.” As I understand it, the kindergarten assessment consists of one of the school’s teachers hanging out with Nate for about an hour, playing games, maybe doing some puzzles, and basically deciding whether he is “on track” and “kindergarten ready.” The school we went to this morning is one for children who are at least at grade level, if not ahead of the curve. It is not, as they told us on the tour a couple of weeks ago, "for children who need remedial assistance on a continuous basis." Yikes. Can you say “pressure”?
Oddly enough, I didn’t feel much pressure. Nate’s a smart kid. Don't get me wrong... he’s not exactly a future Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. (I'm actually relieved that he isn't crazy-freaky-smart... after all, I do want him to eventually date and move out of our basement.) But he’s smart - he's where he needs to be. He kicks some serious ass on puzzles, is developing his basic reading skills, can find his way around numbers pretty well, and he is getting better at coloring in the lines (something I still struggle with, metaphorically speaking). So I wasn’t too worried. Rather, I was more interested in making sure he liked the schools and would be comfortable with the teachers. I mean, if he’s going to spend the bulk of the day with these people, shouldn’t he at least not hate them right out of the gate?
After he finished this morning’s assessment, I asked Nate whether he liked the school. He did! I asked why. “I like their toys.” Um, okay. Maybe I should be worried. Really? Toys? (For the record, their toys are nice but not what I would consider awesome.) But then I thought about it… what better way to decide where you spend your time, where you learn, where you develop? When you get right down to it, this is pretty much how we make decisions as adults, isn’t it? Think about it. How did you choose where to go to university? In all likelihood, you looked at the options you had on the table and picked the one with the most toys – whether you defined “toys” as “professors who publish,” “high academic standards,” “classes that start after noon,” “hot boys” or “bars,” the analysis was pretty well the same. How did you choose your current job? I bet it’s the one that, among your options, had the best toys. I am quite confident that even our beloved naked-tub-sitting Tao girl picked the job that offered her the most toys, and I’d be willing to bet that one of her definitions of “toys” included “quantity of flower petals.” Your apartment or house? Look me in the eye and tell me that Grohe faucet isn’t a toy. Your boyfriend, girlfriend, partner or spouse? Toys, toys and more toys (or, perhaps more accurately stated, the lack of need to acquire additional toys to compensate for an erstwhile toy deficiency).
In other words, I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything to worry about. If Nate gets into either of these schools, it seems that his analysis is right where it should be. Granted, at the ripe old age of four, it really does come down to which school has more wooden blocks (CCDS) or the better playground (Seven Hills). But he’s spot on in how he’s thinking about it. It is all about the toys.
No comments:
Post a Comment