K thru-get used to it.
Sits up, sleeps through the night, eats solids, crawls, teeth, walks, hits a ball, talks, hits more balls, rides a bike, potty trains, hits balls harder, gets sassy with me, and now this?
Kindergarten is in five months?
I interviewed the principal. When I asked her about her hiring practices. She talked about the staff having familiarity with working in urban environments. How her female and male teachers are from across the globe, with cultural and educational diversity to draw on. She passed round one with flying colors. Her staff did too. The kindergarten teacher part of the tour was like meeting an old friend who totally gets your kid because they just do. She has a five year old son too.
We happened to be there during a “safety drill” which meant every child on the playground for fifteen minutes in nearly neat little lines. Sam would not be in any kind of minority here. It rocked my world. The number of children of color at this elementary school looked to be nearly equal to that of the melanin free variety. It matters to me, and it will matter to him. Sam was sitting in the lap of the main secretary sharing his life savers with her, and playing cello with a 5th grader waiting to go home as I filled out the registration papers. We both left there feeling the charge of it all.
I stalled a moment where it asked the name of the father. I put N/A in really large letters, and then wrote; SINGLE MAMA. That felt like an act of something important. The record they start today will follow him for the next twelve years…
“Mom, get used to it,” he said, crossing the playground to the car.
“Get used to it?” I nearly choked.
“Yeah. I’m big mom. I’m going to be nine and then ten, and then I don’t even know what you’ll do.”