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This Does Not Bode Well

I’ve spent many hours in my life getting judgmental about and rolling my eyes in front of parents who freak out over school choice.

I have spent many hours in my life bragging that *I* went to at least one school in a crappy neighborhood, and everything turned out fine.

I am quick to cast aspersions at upper-middle class whites who panic over sending their kids to schools outside their McMansion-filled neighborhoods.

I will NEVER forget the dude on the California #1 bus in San Francisco audibly discussing the crucial choice of preschool for his scion, as that choice sets the stage for the RIGHT elementary school (private, I presume), the RIGHT secondary school (ditto), and the RIGHT college (Ivy League no doubt). I have mocked and sneered at this guy for years.

Then a night about two months ago, I spent two hours reading about the JCPS placement policy, looking up school scores, freaking out, and trying to figure out the most competitive school I can get Simon into that happens to be in a disadvantaged neighborhood. Because I’m assuming I won’t get him into my nice little neighborhood school. And I’m assuming I won’t have money for private school. And I’m assuming that if I choose badly, Simon will be terrorized by aggressive sixth graders who know how to make meth and use curse words I don’t even know and that Simon will end up a high school drop-out and/or drug addict and/or thug.

Simon is due to start kindergarten in three years and a week. Getting ahead of myself a bit there?

Those short two hours may have just exposed the ugliest side of me I have ever dealt with head on. I am ashamed of myself. I am lamenting that I know no one who can pull strings for me. I need candy….

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