The Application Waiting Game: Private High School

We've submitted all of our applications for high school. Our daughter has chosen to apply to 3 very nice schools. She filled out her applications herself. She wrote her own essays. She answered questions in thoughtful, creative ways.

Now, we wait. The competition is fierce out there. It's like applying for a job or college or going to a casting call.

All normal bets are off. It's not always what you know, as you all know, but who you know. I guess you might as well learn that sooner than later.

So, as stated before, we are waiting. Waiting... Waiting... Waiting...

When Can Kids Be Kids? High School Applications and How They Can Impact Your Entire Life

Well, I have to say that I've pretty much had it. If it isn't hard enough to be 13, we've added a whole new dimension to the teenage twilight zone: high school.

My own middle school years flowed seamlessly into high school. I never thought much about it. There was the high school on Baker Road, and that is where you went after 8th grade. My 9th grade teacher did tell my parents to get me out of that place and get me into a private high school, but I was in 9th grade, I had my friends and there was no way that I would switch.

Now my 13 year old daughter is taking SSATs and writing applications and having interviews and visit days. Even I am writing essays about why my kid is so fantastic that they should be dying to have her at their school--despite me forking over the $40, 000.00 check for tuition. No matter how fantastic my own essay is, or my kid is, the old boys network still exists: if you know somebody or ARE somebody, you have a significantly better chance to beat the regular process. It's like the elite line at the airport.

Welcome to the real world kiddo, you might be 13, but this is how the world works. Welcome to decision making and test prepping and acing an interview. We send our kids to a school that treasures childhood, now it's like WTF? Grow up and grow up fast.

Ruth was playing Lego's with her 10 year old sister. I had to break into a litany about homework and getting it done and done right. No Lego, no movie, just study. There words are hard to spit out, because I don't believe much of this pressure cooker practice, but we live in a world that is steaming up.

There are people out there that are playing the game every minute. They are networking like a flu virus and they are teaching their offspring to do the same. If you go to the right high school then you can go to the right college. Heck, I know this starts at preschool for some families.

I think I'll take Ruth to Toys R Us this weekend, at least there, a kid can be a kid.

Mommy Angst: Cut-Throat Competition for Private School Acceptance

Our kids go to the cutest, private school. O-k, I've said it and you, reader, are either cringing that I used the word "private" or you have private school in your background.

My kids did not end up at an "elitist" institution out of breeding. My husband and I went to public schools and I think we turned out pretty o-k. We kind of ended up at private school by accident. How does one make a ca trillion dollar mistake such as this? Read on...

Our first born, John, is an early September birthday boy. If you are a parent of a September boy, you know there is always one question before they enter kindergarten, "Do you send them early, or do you hold them back?"

If you are new to this debate, at the heart of it, a lot of people believe that you should give a child the "gift of time." This especially holds true for boys. I'm a Montessori preschool teacher, and when it came time for our son's third year of preschool, it was considered his "kindergarten year."

My husband and I, just figured that John would enter the public school kindergarten class with his "gift of time." He would be 6, and that would be around the age of most of the boys in his class. We went to tour the public school kindergarten and uh oh.

The tour guide said that they like the kindergartners to enter school being able to write their name and that most kids are reading by the time they enter 1st grade. John was over at Montessori school probably reading chapter books as we took our tour. This wasn't going to work out so well.

We toured 1st grade. The class sizes were small, but there were 600 kids on recess that border a public park. All we could picture was our little baby in that big class. He was quiet and shy and sweet and he was going to get lost!

Meanwhile, our Montessori teacher called us in for a conference. She told us if John entered kindergarten, it was going to be a disaster. Basically, we were told there was no way John could do kindergarten again.

She recommended that we tour a number of small private schools. We started touring, and the rest is history. We chose the sweetest school that was a cross between Montessori and traditional school. It actually was nick named the "Hippie School" a long time ago.

This was not a fancy school with a parking lot full of fancy cars. Being in Northern California, it had an eensy weensy celebrity attendance, but for the most part, you wouldn't know it was a private school, until you got the bill.

There is one class for each grade. Each class has a team of teachers, usually one male and one female. Every teacher at the school knows you and knows your kid. There is music and art and a wonderful projects lab where the kids use saws, hammers and drills. It has been a lovely place for our now 8th grader to grow and learn.

However, this school ends at 8th grade. Now, we are being catapulted out of our comfort zone and into the land of high school. Public school is large and excellent and facing big budget cuts. Private school is uber competitive and exceedingly expensive and excellent--it faces no budget crisis as the prices just keep going up.

Now we are on that age old question again, what do we do? Do we sell the farm, and maybe a couple of siblings to afford an excellent secondary education? The competition is so fierce for so few spots, you can't go anywhere around 8th grade parents from our school and not have the "High School Conversation."

Where did you apply? Do you think you'll get in? How many recommendations? Test scores? How many times did you child take the SSAT? Did you take the SSAT courses? How was the interview? What did your child write their essay about? Grades?

Calgon! Take me away! We will get letters from the schools about acceptances March 18th. Until then, oh boy. There is tension among the best of friends. There is parental angst over who will get the coveted one or two spots at the top schools.

Then the rumors fly right alongside the circus. If you give more money, you have a better chance. If you have this zip code, you have a better chance. If you play such and such sport you have a better chance. If you have siblings you have a better chance. If you're famous, if you're friends with so and so, if, if, if...

If this is high school, we are going to need Valium to get through the college application process.

Race To Nowhere: I'm going to get there first!!!

I just saw the movie Race to Nowhere. It bills itself as the "dark side of America's acheivement culture." I, too, believe that we are pushing ourselves far beyond our capabilities and are losing focus on how we really contribute to our society, family and ourselves.

This film takes several case studies and looks at why our kids are so stressed out in a world of so many expectations. If you are not at the top there is only one place to go and that's down.

These are the hoops we've jumped through for private high school admissions this fall:

My son:

visited 8 schools

attended 6 open houses

took the SSAT 2 times

took the ISEE 1 time

had 7 interviews

wrote 4 admissions essays

filled out four applications with essay questions

asked for 16 letters of recommendation

kept his grades sparkling perfect

All of this was on top of our regualar life that is filled with extra curricular activities, family and travel. Nary an eye did he bat. This was normal for all of the students in his class. No one forced him, all of the above was voluntary.

However, when this is considered normal, I have to wonder just what we expect from 13 and 14 years olds. When do the seams start to stretch and rip a little? How do you know when you actually reach any finish lines, if that is indeed your purpose.

Within 3 minutes of watching the film, I felt very grateful for the school that our children already attend. Focus is on the child and perserving childhood. It is a culture of acceptance and tolerance and appreciation for each individual. Of course, this is very expensive.

When I look at the parents in our community, myself sometimes included, it seems like a magical life they lead. They have fancy houses, cars and money to burn. They jet around the world and buy the latest fashions. They sit in the front row at concerts, sports events and theater. Only the best wine, champagne and organic produce graces their tables and tummies.

They all must be really happy, right? Except, I think that I really know very few truly happy people. If his is what we consider as having it all, and if that's all of it, where is the rest of it? More, you ask, what more could one want? That's why it's called having it all.

Spoiled by life, spoiled by circumstance, everybody wants more. There is never enough. It is never done quite right, cooked quite right, fits quite right or looks quite right. There are not a lot of smiling faces. These are grown ups and they are still racing this same race to nowhere.

I, personally, don't want to race to nowhere, but you get caught up in the crowd at the starting line. I'd like to take some time and enjoy where I'm at with the people I'm with. As I learned at the British Museum last month, you just die anyway and you truly can't take it with you. Why would you want to race headlong toward that?

My advice for adults today: Eat dessert. Put cream in your coffee. Tear off a piece of that crusty bread and enjoy it! Turn off you cell phone, enjoy the conversation. Sleep in, say no sometimes, watch tv in bed and eat chips WITH dip. Laugh. Nap. Go shopping. Get a massage.