Today’s post was authored by a parent who wishes to remain anonymous. You can see that I have concealed his/her name in order to protect them from any child-based retribution. This post is the original work of Anonymous.
This post is for all the other parents. Students, you can stop reading now: Nothing else to see here.
OK folks, I’ve read the educators and students postings on the blog, and I thought maybe it would interest some to have a parent’s perspective – that was up until my child got wind of this idea and advised me that I was the most embarrassing parent in the world. I relented for a moment, but then thought “oh, what the heck,” I will live to embarrass him/her every day. To paraphrase Kilgore Trout, “and so it goes.”
Notice the gender neutrality and the fact that this is posted anonymously. That’s to protect the innocent – ME! I mean, I’ve got to live with my kid for two more years so I need to have plausible deniability that I wrote this in order to avoid my life becoming a living…difficulty (you get the picture). So, please excuse my anonymity. I promise the lack of journalistic integrity serves only to avoid the need for me to enter a witness protection program.
We are thrilled to be part of the new “crop” of parents at MVGS. From the moment we attended the briefing by Dr. Greathouse introducing the benefits and curriculum at MVGS, through the anxious moments running to the mail box everyday looking for “the letter,” to the parent’s orientation at LFCC, this has already been a fantastic ride. And we think it gets better! Maybe.
We knew from the moment we met the faculty and staff at the orientation that this was the right fit for our child – all were fantastic. But, we were still worried if our child felt the same way. I mean, he/she loves to learn, loves school (always has), loves his/her educators, and loves challenges. So maybe it would be good.
So far, (and it’s only been three days) my child has come home happy. In fact, when I asked how school went that day, my child smiled and enthusiastically replied: “School?! Did I go to school today?”
Great. This has been a really Good Choice.
Then, IT happened. He/she told me about the planned trip to Verdun. Sound good right? Lots of fun! Or, it did, right up until she asked me to sign a waiver that includes the language: “I acknowledge that participating in the programs and activities related to the programs will involve inherent risks….” I didn’t have to spend many years in a law school to understand what that all meant. HUH?!
You told me about rocketry. You told me about robotics. You told me about flex days. You told me about dead Greek authors. You told me about breakfast once a month. You told me about PAL groups. But, you never told me about zip lines, rock walls, or high/low ropes. Maybe I drifted off for one moment more than I should have during Dr. Greathouse’s talk.
After reviewing together the website for Verdun, there was lots of nervous sweating, crying and endless fear. But after a few minutes of that, my child calmed me down, wiped the sweat off my face, dried my tears, and we were able to discuss Verdun rationally. I calmly offered that we were just going to quietly pack up and move out of state to Grandma’s house…maybe Mr. Burton wouldn’t notice my child was missing. But, noooooooooo! My kid is looking forward to zipping, climbing, rope walking and all the other things that will cause me to lose sleep over the next few days.
And, at the end of the day on Monday, I know he/she will come home, smile, and say to me enthusiastically: “School?! I went to school today?”
I’ll just faint. And so it goes…