Way Too Early

When Andrea was in seventh grade we had to catch the bus at 6:00 a.m. to get her to school.  We did this by choice.  I had exercised the School Choice option and chose to send her to Watson Chapel Junior High, a school out of our home district.  With school choice you could attend an out of district school but the school bus didn't transport.  So we found ourselves waiting for the city bus early every morning.  We took the bus to Beazle's House where my daughter caught the bus with the neighborhood kids.  Shame on us. What I'm complaining about is public schools requiring little kids in their own districts to be up and out so early.  These parents have little or no choice. 

Last Wednesday morning I was out early.  I knew school buses ran early to pick up elementary school students.  I had no idea how early.  A mother with a little boy, maybe first grade, pass me on the street.  I heard her say, "Hurry up, son, we don't want to miss the school bus."  I was shocked.  It was black dark.  I say, "What time is it?" as I pull out my phone to look at the time.  The lady said it was 6:30, my phone said 6.28.  Either way, too early to be picking up such little kids.  This is made more ridiculous when middle schoolers are picked up after 8:00.  High School students are the only ones picked up at a reasonable 7:15.

By the time the little kid's mother finished telling him to
hurry I hear the bus.  Unbelievable.  I had to take a picture.  This may not be the greatest shot but I had to get it; high ISO, hand held, black dark.  

True, the little kids get home from school really early, around 2:30 p.m. but I'd rather see them get home a bit later than having to be at the school bus stop at 6:30 in the morning.  

IMO this is part of why kids are performing so poorly in school these days.  What time do these kids get up in order to be on time for the school bus?  Did they eat breakfast at home or do they go to school hungry and scarf down a school breakfast before class?  If they get up at 4:30 or 5, do they go to bed at 8:30 or 9?

I tell you, if I had small children and they had to be at the school bus stip by 6:30, we'd be homeschooling for sure. 

Homework

An assignment for Andrea's music appreciation classes states they must attend a concert and write a report about it.  If the attend a live concert and attach the program to their report they will get extra credit.  Straight forward in theory buy oh, so frustrating in practice. 

We decide extra credit is the was to go.  I have Andrea find a free concert held before the due date of the report.  She finds a string quartet holding a performance at the Emory University Planetarium.  The Marta map says no bus goes by there so I call para-transit.  I tell the MARTA rep where we're going and that the concert starts at 7:00 p.m.  I had already called Emory to find out what time the concert ends and they didn't know.  I was told to call back tomorrow and they will have found out by then.  The man said concerts usually last an hour and a half to two hours.  I told MARTA to pick us up at 9:15 for the trip home.  I was told we'd be picked up at 5:30 from home.  This seemed reasonable.  I was dead wrong.

So we get ready and 5:30 comes and goes.  At 6:00 I call to see where the van is.  I'm told he's dropping somebody off in Lithonia and will be picking us up in about twenty minutes.  After we get on the van we suffer through a pick up and drop off of another person.  It is after 7:30 before we get to the Emory Planetarium.

Sigh of relief; we can finally hear the music.  Not so.  the lady at the door informs us that the planetarium is filled to capacity.  I'm dumbfounded but persistant.  "Is there some place we can listen?" I ask.  I don't know why I asked that because not a peep could be heard from where we were.  She said there wasn't.  I ask about a program, I explain about the extra credit for a live concert.  I hoping Andrea's teacher will give her the extra credit if she knows Andrea tried so hard to go to a live concert.  The lady at the door said they were all out of programs but she'd write a note explaining the situation.  The lady wrote the note and I took a picture of Andrea outside the building with the name displayed so her teacher will know we tried.  We stayed close to the entrance in case someone left early.  Everyone stayed to the end around 8:00 p.m.

Now we have a long wait until we're picked up.  What a waste.  I told Andrea to go on Youtube and find a concert to report on.  

I'm Sick of It

Is there anywhere in these United States that has fully accessible transportation for those of us who don't drive?  Fully accessible means more than getting us to the doctor, work, and school, with maybe a shopping center nearby.    The sooner public transit and paratransit systems realize this the better for all of us.  Next Tuesday there's yet another event we can't independently attend.

Georgia Cyber Academy has gone all out for their Stone Mountain meet and greet.  We're to  "We will be meeting for fun, games, music, crafts, bounce houses, competitions, student performers and more!"  To add to that Stone Mountains has lots of things for visitors to see and do.  Andrea and I were looking forward to it until I called MARTA's para-transit for a ride. 

The MARTA representative said the van will let us out at the west gate to Stone Mountain Park but she didn't know how far that is from the Fireside Pavilion, where I need to be.  She said, "It's a big place.  You should call them to find out.  She was nice enough to give me the number to Stone Mountain park.

I call the park and get disappointing news.  According to the lady at the park the Fireside Pavilion is two and a half miles from the west gate where the para-transit will be letting us off.  I ask if there's a shuttle and she says the shuttle only runs on weekends.

We already got volleyball practice moved because of this event.  More than likely we'll stay home and do schoolwork.  There are roads running through this park.  GCA sent out directions for parking near the pavillion.  I don't understand why the para-transit can't travel these same roads.

I don't want to ask for a ride because I want to leave on my own schedule.  I don't know how many of the GCA activities we'll participate in.  We're mainly going to take pictures and may want to stay longer than a ride may.  I'll have to thing about the pros and cons of asking a neighbor or another GCA family.  Sometimes I want to do things with just us.

I flet Pine Bluff because I wanted Andrea and myself to be able to do more things.  We missed out in pine Bluff because the busses were very limited in range and hours.  Here we have both for the most part and I know I should be grateful.  But as they say the more you have the more you want.  I want more.  I want to decide not to go someplace because of my own reasons, not because I can't get there without involving somebody else, their schedule, and desires.  I am so looking forward to a year of freedom between when Andrea gets her license and when she leaves for college. 

You're So Vain.....

.....You probably think this post is about you. Don't you?  It's probably not.  Those who this is about are two specific people who will remain nameless for obvious reasons.  If you think it is you and you did ALL these things; it is about you.  If you did some of these things, shame on you, but this post is NOT about you.  Maybe next time. 

I met this mother and daughter at my daughter's volleyball practice.  Because we live relatively close I thought it would be a good idea if we car pooled.  Good in theory, bad in practice.  She'd drive her van one day and ours the next time with Andrea driving home for the practice.

We couldn't do anything right (correctly) from the first time we took our van. Andrea hadn't backed our van out yet so she could park in the driveway.  She didn't want to park on the street because someone might come down that hill and hit her van.  She had a point on that but what's the hurry?  It was only 8:15 and we had until 10:00 to go thirty-five miles.

Andrea's not knowing the freeways, or where she is most of the time makes Andrea Special according to this woman and her daughter.  After all her daughter knows these things.  My saying kids don't learn these things because we take them everywhere is just an excuse to let the mom tell it.  Her daughter knows these things and she's not exceptional.  She can't think outside the box because who is it that would have taught Andrea these things?  I get onto Andrea for not paying attention to her surroundings because I was taught to know where you are.  But it's not up to random people to judge her for being out of it in the georgaphy department.

How many of you have gone to a new walmart?  Do you remember the traffic a new Walmart generates?  My neighbor across the street was brave enough to ride with Andrea to the new Walmart at night.  To me it looked like a sea of headlights and break lights.  Andrea decides to scare me some more by making a left turn in all this and heading for a McDonald's drive threw.  She did it.  I was on pens and needles, but that's my job.  When I told the carpool mom about this she said, "Is being scared a hobby for you"?  No anybody who knows me would never ask such a question.  People who know me accuse me of being too brave or too independent. 

This is the same woman I mentioned in  Tribute to ASB Teachers from the 70's. (In this Month's edition)

I told the group how we had played a version of volleyball, that they probably wouldn't call volleyball, at ASB.  I explained how the ball could stay on a side as long as it didn't go out of bounds, get hit into or under the net, or stop bouncing.  I told how each player was allowed a certain number of bounces depending on how well they could see.  All the parents thought this was interesting except one.  The one that didn't find this interesting wasn't a club mom; it was the mom of a player who had never played.  "That must have been some neighborhood thing," she sneered.  I reminded her that I had already said they probably wouldn't call it volleyball.

The team's first scrimmage was September 16th.  My neighbor from farther up the road wanted to go.  She had played on her high school's volleyball team back in the day.  Since we'd be going in the other van I told My neighbor I'd find out if it was alright.  Talk about unsociable; I was surprised.  After I introduced everybody and they said something like nice to meet you that was it.  Would my neighbor liked to gotten to know the people she was riding with?  Who Knows.  Our carpool driver put in a CD, turns it up loud, and starts singing; all the way to Marietta.  

Sprayberry High School is still undefeated.  We lost the matches but they didn't skunk us.  Frist match 15 to 25 Sprayberry.  Second match 24 to 25 Sprayberry. 

On the way back the driver asked Andrea if she was going to drive back from Marietta on Thursday?  Andrea said she wasn't going to drive back.  She said she didn't want to.  I was both surprised and not surprised.  Andrea loves to drive but she already has three different people telling her three different things when she drives.  I can definitely understand not wanting a fourth. 

"You can't hack it."  She tells Andrea.

"I just don't want to drive."  Andrea replies.

Digression.  We've already been told and shown how her daughter, age thirteen can already drive.  She had her daughter back their van out of our driveway when we got back the first time we took our van. 

When it's time to drive our van I get some CDs for entertainment.  They didn't like that at all.  The daughter was making faces because she didn't like the music.  The mother had the audacity to say, "I thought the driver got to choose the music."  I acted like I didn't hear her.  The driver may usually get to choose the music because...........IT IS USUALLY THEIR VEHICLE.  When I ride in somebody's car, truck, van, etc and they have music or the radio on I keep my mouth shut about it.  It doesn't matter one whit if I like the genre, it's their vehicle, they choose. 

How did we handle the radio situation when Beazle sent some church members to get us from Georgia in her car and bring us to Arkansas?  The driver changed the station until somebody, I don't remember who, said, "Leave it there."  It stayed there until that person said, "Find something else."  And so it went. 

So Andrea decides she wants to drive back after all.  Andrea tells the mom that she, Andrea, will need directing, because she doesn't know the way back.  No response but we head out.  "You should have got in the right lane to get on 75."  Andrea keeps driving and we end up in the middle of some town.  "I thought you saw that sign for 75 over there, but I guess you didn't."  Andrea keeps driving, sees a sign, presumably for 75,  and asks, "Do I want Marietta or Atlanta?"  No response from the mother.  Snide response from the daughter, "Marietta is , N o r t h of us."  True, this is something Andrea should know but this is not the time for a geography lesson.   

I deliberately keep my cool.  I'm upset with Andrea for not using the GPS on her phone from the beginning.  I'm upset with the daughter for opening her mouth with unhelpful info.  I'm really upset with the mother for sitting there mute like a bump on a log.  At the next stop light I tell Andrea to get her phone out and use the GPS. 

When Andrea starts getting directions from the GPS the mother decides to talk.  Once she said somethink like get in the right lane so you can get off at the next exit.  By the time she finished saying it the exit was there.  Andrea did the right thing in my opinion and kept driving.  The GPS hadn't told her to get off, and if it had it would have given more time.  She pulls this again but this time Andrea had time to make the exit.  When we're right at the exit she tells Andrea to,"Stay on 285."  (Don't ask me when 75 became 285 or when she changed highways.)  Andrea stays on the exit ramp.  Again she says, "Stay on 285."  Were there two ways to get back on 285?  Andrea made a left, drove a little bit and merged back on.  The mom said Andrea should have gone right but, "It's your gas." 

I ask where are we?  I like to know such things.  They make fun of Andrea because she doesn't know where she is most of the time but don't answer me when I ask.  Andrea's unhelpful, but existent reply is mile marker such and such.  Everybody else is quiet as mice.  I ask another question.  What mile marker do we need to get to?  Andrea doesn't know and no answer from the peanut gallery. 

So we keep driving along in silence.  Out of nowhere the daughter snaps, "Why did you go by the Covington Highway exit?  We always get off on the Covington Highway exit."  The mother remained mute; the GPS was quiet.  Where is a gag and duct tape when you need it?  I was fed up, I was going to take Andrea's side unless she came out with something totally off the wall.  I asked Andrea why she didn't take the Covington Highway exit.  She could have responded with all kinds of good answers, and she did.  "I'm going to get off at the Glenwood Exit."  Andrea said.  I back her up by saying, "That is the exit we take when we go places with Tammy and them."  She could have also said the GPS didn't tell me to get off there.  The Covington Highway exit puts you off right on Covington Highway and you drive on city streets longer.  You stay on the freeway longer if you take the Glenwood exit and have to turn off Glenwood onto Covington Highway.  Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

How can people be such know it alls and be so rigid?  When you know everything shouldn't you know there's more than one way to skin a cat and all roads lead to Rome?  It was like they were hoping Andrea would fail and they were bent on helping her fail.  If Andrea would have given up or got and stayed lost they would have had something to gloat about.  When she exercised some self help with the GPS they decided to open their mouths and give bogus directions.

When we got home they get out of the van.  They don't say, bye, have a nice day, kiss my butt, nothing.  They just got in their van and left.

I told Andrea I thought she did a good job.  I told her how proud I was of her for not changing lanes when she didn't know if it was safe, and for staying calm under such  stressful  conditions.  I told her she should have had her GPS ready from the beginning.  If she had, we would have avoided the trip through that town. 

The whole episode kept bugging me.  I called Tammy to see if she was home; I needed to vent.  I thought she'd tell me I shouldn't let all this bother me.  Like a good friend and neighbor she took my side.  We agreed that the daughter acted like that because she'd heard her mother talking.  I told Tammy that is why I came to her house.  I didn't want Andrea to hear me down grading those people and get an attitude in front of them.  Tammy said I probably wouldn't hear from them again after that.  I thought she was right.

Later the same day, I get a call from the mother, "I forgot to say goodbye this afternoon.  I was in such a hurry to get to my next appointment, I forgot to say goodbye.  I'll see you Tuesday."  I said ok.  I thought to myself she probably went to the service station to fill up her van and got reminded of how expensive it is to drive alone twice a week. 

I'm not sure what I'm going to do.  Tammy is willing to drive but I'm not found of fueling my van for all the trips either.  I'm going to make a point to get phone numbers for more of the team members who live close. 

In my opinion they think they're better than Andrea and me; possibly other people as well.  At volleyball practice the mother can't seem to understand why her daughter doesn't play as well as the best players.  It's a no brainer; those girls have been in volleyball clubs, teams, and camps for at least three years.  Who'd pay for all that if those girls had no potential?  This woman's daughter just started playing Volleyball on September 3rd.  Does she really have to be told there's no way her daughter is going to be anywhere near as good a player as the girls with at least three years of training under their belts> 

   

 

Tribute to ASB Teachers from the '70's

You guys were awesome.  As a student I thought you were just like any and all other teachers.  You were much more, I just didn't realize it.  Beazle used to say, "They really learn 'em at the blind school."   I've come to know how right her point was. Because of these exceptional teachers and because I've substitute taught in special education classes in schools where kids are mainstreamed I am all for the special schools. 

Because of the wonderful education you gave me I felt comfortable pulling my daughter out of regular school and teaching her at home.  I was always bad at math but she has online teachers to help her when she needs it there.  I can help with her other subjects even though she is in eleventh grade now.  I owe that all to you teachers. 

I enjoyed P. E. only when we had folk and square dancing, or played volleyball.  The running track, fist ball, swimming, and exercising I could live without.  It is volleyball that prompted me to write this tribute.

As I said my daughter is home schooled for the most part through Georgia Cyber Academy, GCA.  Someone thought it would be nice to get up a girls volleyball team.  My daughter tried out and made the team.  Some of the girls played in clubs, some, like my daughter, played for fun at church, while others have never played.  A club mom explained the rotations and positions to us as we watched practice.  I didn't know each position had certain roles. 

I told the group how we had played a version of volleyball, that they probably wouldn't call volleyball, at ASB.  I explained how the ball could stay on a side as long as it didn't go out of bounds, get hit into or under the net, or stop bouncing.  I told how each player was allowed a certain number of bounces depending on how well they could see.  All the parents thought this was interesting except one.  The one that didn't find this interesting wasn't a club mom; it was the mom of a player who had never played.  "That must have been some neighborhood thing," she sneered.  I reminded her that I had already said they probably wouldn't call it volleyball.  

This exchange caused me to think about the teachers at ASB.  Was there a book out there telling how to teach blind kids how to play volleyball?  I don't know, maybe.  But I think the P. E. teachers sat down and brainstormed how to make it happen.  Unlike in college where we could take a crafts class and have it count toward physical education, these teachers came up with adaptive ways to play standard sports.   

Thank you so much teachers at ASB of the 1970's.  You rock!  You did a bang up job, and I'm so very grateful for your dedication to teaching us.  You were more than warm bodies; you were excellent teachers. 

Wanda Merritt
Anthony