I always thought of blogs as being narcissistic, business related, or as my sister's, a way of keeping in touch or memorializing.

But, by necessity, I am learning a lot about myself. I find I need to get my thoughts out, and it helps me to know that someone else will read them. So I have created this little space for myself, to express the things I have trouble saying (be it emotional or physical trouble), to share what I'm going through, and what I'm learning through it.

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Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Marbles Well Spent - School Show

Last night was the first time I went to a school show without knowing exactly what was going to happen onstage. It was also the first time my son really participated in a way that he felt was significant, and that he was really engaged in the process and looking forward to the performance. And, it was also the first time my mother participated.

The show was about dreams - lucid collective dreams to be more exact - and was mostly written by the students themselves. The songs that accompanied and transitioned the scenes were also written by the students. Thepride and confidence they felt at having done all this was palpable. They were poised, and enthusiastic, and just so very incredibly wonderfully amazing, that it was hard work to keep the tears from my eyes.

My marbles are all gone, but it was so worth it. Today has been pretty useless, but again, so worth it. The whole night was totally worth the price I'm paying today.

We started by taking my son out for dinner - my mom, him and me - at a greasy spoon between the house and the school. As soon as dinner was over, he ran off to fetch me his report card, and we sat in the car reading it together. One of the things I love about Montessori is how well the teachers get to know the students. You have to understand that in Montessori there are no grades, and the reports from our school at this stage are literally four pages of the teachers describing the overall development and the activities covered in each area of the classroom, and each specialty subject. Reading out loud the details of his daily life, I could feel the teachers' passion for their work, and their dedication to my son's education. The way they describe him is just how I see him, and just what I hoped for in his life at this stage.

So flying high already, he gave me more reason to gush when he pulled out a hairbrush in the car, because the director of the show told them to make sure their hair was neat. This is my child, the one who would be happy to wear the same outfit every single day of his life, stains and smell and all. When we got to the school, he was so excited, he barely said goodbye as he ran off to join the crowd of children getting ready for the show.

While the students were getting ready, there was a reception for the parents in the foyer, and this is where things got a little odd and difficult for me. Parents are not allowed into the auditorium until it is almost time for the show to begin. But the grandparents with walkers and canes were ushered in, so that they would not be caught in the rush to find the best seats. When the foyer started to get crowded, and the chatter and laughter started bouncing off the walls, I had to get out. I'd also been upright for more than an hour and a half at that point. So I joined all the other people with mobility aids, and felt really self-conscious sitting inside the almost silent auditorium - I was the youngest there by at least 30 years.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, the parents came in, the show started, and the rest of my evening was spent in absolute enjoyment of the festivities (so much so I didn't even feel my marbles depleting). My son was easily the most expressive of the younger performers, and was super engaged with his part.

Easily the most moving moment in the show was the final scene. Picture it: the main characters (five 12 year olds) have just realized that they are in my Mom's dream, and they are trying to figure out why the principal is dreaming with them. She says she is there to tell them the story of a real collective dream, and calls to them to come closer. At that moment, all 50 odd students in our Elementary run onto the stage to sit at her feet, and she begins to tell the story of the parents who came together to create a place where their children could learn with joy. She is an amazing story-teller, and the students were totally drawn in by her, and I - well, there are no words to describe how I felt at that moment. There, on the stage, my mother, my boss, surrounded by the children who love her, and to whom she dedicates so much of her life, my son, sharing in the moment, my students, children I've watched grow - yeah, no words. None.

By the time we all got home, nobody was ready to sleep. So we made a toast (during which my son demanded toast), and stayed up talking for a while, about the experience. Today, we slept in and he missed a good part of the morning.

But I'll say it one more time (in case you didn't get it) - it was so worth it!


  1. Of all nature's gifts to the human race, what is sweeter to a man than his children?

  2. I only wish I could have been there; if only I would have known.
    How lucky you are of having Eduardo as your son, and Regina as your mother . . . or, is it luck?