This morning I reviewed and revamped the post I wrote too soon after a decision was put in place to move Sam to a new school in the new year. I was writing from a place that was not infused with the light and strength that this move and moment deserves on so many fronts. So, I have invoked the blogger’s prerogative and reset history. It is the Solstice Eve after all: a return to light. The new tilt, the hopeful and honoring version appears here.
Sam had a half day at the new school yesterday. His name was on his locker and desk when he arrived. His desk was placed right next to J’s desk, a strong and vibrant girl he spent his kindergarten year with. A chocolately brown girl, one of six in his class, who said she’d look after him here. He reported that the teacher discovered what a great reader he was, and that he already was allowed to use the smart board (computerized white board essentially), and the document reader. His art teacher put him right to work on a new project. The calendar announcing who would share on what day for the month of January included his name twice, next to a new “almost best friend named…” The “firsties” newsletter announcing learning targets, and how to support the students in their math, and reading over the winter break with long and short vowels, and other suggestions made this public school mama’s heart sing with anticipation of things to come. Sammy pleaded to go back the next day, and was more than a little crushed to learn he had to wait until January to start full time.
As we walked out of the building he asked if he could skip to the car. And, just before he launched into the air he turned to me and said; “You’re right you know. This school is as big as me.”