I should have spent last night at an open house, surrounded by other big people in little chairs, researching the ever-growing list of elementary schools my son could attend. Instead, I slept. I'm exhausted by the search for an educational home for my first-grader.
This morning, I woke up to a pile of private school applications that ask me about my goals and expectations for him. As I grapple with an answer that is taking me longer to compose than my college admission essay, I am simultaneously planning four school visits in the next two days.
This intensive search has been triggered by a new job that is taking my family to a large city with perhaps too many options. My greatest concern before accepting the position was not whether it would be satisfying or good for me professionally (I thought it would be), or even whether the pay and benefits were a step up (they were). The sticking point was finding a school for my son.
I visited the area twice -- and saw several schools that didn't satisfy me -- before accepting the position, with the caveat that I be allowed to delay our move for six months until I could find a school that I liked.
One of the first and most important lessons I learned during this search was that the schools with the best test scores and the highest recommendations from other parents were not necessarily going to lead me to the right school for my child.
Colter is unique, and his educational needs go beyond learning reading, writing and arithmetic. He is an active child who needs physical education more than once a week. He is a creative child who needs music and art more than once a month. He is a tech-savvy child who wants to use the computer regularly.
He is also academically advanced, but sometimes lags behind socially, as his interpersonal skills struggle to catch up with his good intentions.
Colter has special needs and would not thrive just anywhere. He requires an environment that is structured, but not too rigid, communal, but not too family-like, with teachers who are supportive, but not indulgent. And that's just the beginning.
Like most quests, this one will not end with the Holy Grail, but rather, with a satisfying sip of perfection that isn't without its cost.
I have wondered during this obsessive process whether I am being unrealistic and dangerously determined to find a place that is as well-suited to my son as we have designed our home to be. Does such a place exist? And if it does, is it even good for him to be catered to so?
But then I remember how many hours a day Colter spends at school. He is with his teachers and peers for 10 hours a day, Monday through Friday (he is in an after-school program from 3 p.m. until 6). On school days, he spends seven hours a day with his father and me.
I remember how formative my educational experiences were. Those early years gave me Mrs. Schick, the first teacher who encouraged me to write; Mr. Davis, who made math accessible to me; and Dean Barbara Schmitter, whose strength and honesty as a leader I still admire.
And I remember the lengths to which my parents went to find the right fit for me. Despite their dirty divorce, my parents joined forces to enroll me in a private school that would stimulate and satisfy me. For years, my father paid more than he could afford so that I would get the best start possible. And when I was admitted to the college of my dreams, he refused to take no for an answer and fought for financial aid so I could attend. He even delayed his retirement so I could pursue graduate school and beyond.
My sister did not graduate from college, and while she has recouped intellectually, she is still occasionally bothered by what she feels was a lack of parental commitment to her future.
I cannot breed such "what if"s in my son or do less for him than was done for me. And I count myself lucky to have a choice. In some cities, the bid to get into preschool is as competitive as the Olympics, and by first grade a student's academic fate is determined. I am fortunate to be able to seek out what's best for my child and provide him with it, for the most part.
I can't know what is in the cards for Colter. I just know I have to stack the deck in his favor whenever I can. That's not cheating, that's love.
This LifeFiles column originally appeared on about 70 TV station websites managed by Internet Broadcasting Systems.
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