A bunch of moms met at my place a few weeks ago to discuss schools in Astoria. Some of the moms knew quite a bit, and others hadn't really researched too much. All of us were wary and concerned about the prospect of sending our kids to NYC public schools, or were concerned about "school" in general.
Concerned, and yet I am a teacher- and I teach for the Department of Education (formerly the Board of Education) in NYC! However, I'm a speech teacher for district 75 - the special education district. Which most of the parents in our group (hardly any at all) will ever have to contemplate special education. And district 75 and special education needs a post of its own!
Some parents are interested in home-schooling, or supplementing the children's public school experiences with some home-schooling on the side. Some are interested in using the charter schools in the area. Others are interested in using their neighborhood schools, with the hopes that their children will be kids for the whom the "teaching to the test" most of the year teaching protocols that are now unfortunately nearly standard in every NYC public school will be a good fit. And then others, like me, hope that not only are my kids able to handle the fast pace and test oriented curriculum, but that their neighborhood school gets much, much better.
After I moved into this house, I found out which school that we were zoned for. I had thought that the school that seemed closest would be "our school," but the zones had changed and we are supposed to use a different school- a school that feels like a much farther walk and is unfortunately not as good. We would be zoned for the school that I want my kids to go to if I lived directly behind my house. My neighbors, who grew up on this street, attended the school that is better because the zones were different 20 years ago. But, I live here now and will have to use the school that is now apparently on the "No Child Left Behind" list.
Can't say that I'm happy about it, but I am torn about what to do. Do I try to make the school better? Do I send my kids there and hope for the best? Or, do I get put on someone's con-ed bill near the better school and send my kids there? I hate lying, and I work for the DOE! I'm an employee! To lie about something like that seems so awful! BUT, I want what is best for my kids.
What I'd like to do is march down the district office and tell them the truth- that it is not acceptable to me that my neighborhood school has gotten WORSE since I have lived here (and I've lived in this house for 9 years), and that I'll be sending my kids to the better area school (and ask for a variance- which you apparently can only get after you register your child for the NCLB school first). Not that they haven't heard this before, and not that they can do anything about it. And I'm sure the teachers in my neighborhood school are upset about what has happened, and I'm sure that the principal is freaking out about it, but not as upset as I am!
I'm happy to work with my kids- do homework, take them to cultural experiences like museums and classes and music, bring them to museums, etc but I want them to get a good, basic education, too.
What's an Astoria parent to do?
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
An afternoon in Astoria (1940)
I was wondering if any of you long time residents of Astoria are familiar with this neighborhood, better, with the photos below. For more information and pictures click here.
Rudolph (Rudy) Burckhardt (1914-1999) arrived in New York from his native Switzerland in 1935. Although he settled in Manhattan – the perfect place in witch to escape the rigid propriety of his European upbringing – his affection for unconventional standards of charm often drew him to Queens. Through Burckhardt’s camera, Queens in the early 1940s was a place of unaffected beauty. He delighted in its empty gas stations and the chaos of its abandoned lots, and in its overgrown sidewalks and its stark industrial facades he found an uncelebrated grace that his own quiet temperament was particularly suited to recognize.
Burckhardt gathered the best of his photographs made in Queens and carefully sequenced them in an album he titled An afternoon in Astoria.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Moms Rising- Parents Rising- Astoria Style
Hey, moms (and dads), if you are interested in momsrising.org, we're starting up a chapter soon. If you're a member of the meetup ASAH mom group, then it's on the calendar. If not, then email me and I'll give you the info. And if you just want some information, you can email me or go to momsrising.org. I think that it's a good thing for all people with families to get together to be heard- to help make sure that politicians know what is important to us. Some of the momsrising campaigns are really important to me and to other families in Astoria that I know- better daycare and childcare, affordable homes, better schools, after school care, equal pay for equal work, and flexible work hours that let us get work done both at our paying jobs and in our non-paying jobs!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
My fight.....My Inspiration....
I have wanted to post on the blog for months now, but it has been a struggle to articulate all the strong feelings and emotions that are harbored inside of me. I knew that if I write about my experiences and emotions it would serve three very important purposes. One would be personal in which I can simply "get out" all the feelings that I have been carrying on my shoulders. The second would be to let others know that if you are in my shoes too, you are not alone. Finally my purpose in writing is to grant people, if it only be a small amount, a glimpse of the reality of Autism from my perspective.
So hear I go. Michael was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder (PDD) when he was 20 months old. He is now three years old. He has not actually been diagnosed with Autism. But, when explaining it to family, friends, etc. I say that he does have a mild form of Autism because many people do not understand what PDD is. At first I really could not truly acknowledge that Michael was on the spectrum as all of a sudden we were bombarded with all theses services for him through Early Intervention. At first I was in a fog as I now had to coordinate Speech, Occupational, Physical, and Special Instruction Therapies. But that is what I had to do and that kept me from having to truly acknowledge and accept this reality. Reflecting back, I then basically went in to a "fight mode". From my teaching experience I knew that special education services do not come without a fight, and I would fight for my son, because the same hopes and dreams I had for him did not all of a sudden become diminished because of this diagnosis.
Intrinsically, I am not a fighter. I have always been intimidated easily. But, as the first roadblocks came when having to transition from Early Intervention to CPSE (Commitee for Pre-School Special Education) and dealing with the NYC board of Education, I quickly transformed into the strong and determined advocate that I had no choice to be for my son. When phone calls were not returned I would call back relentlessly until I got someone on the phone that could help me, I would be demanding, and I would not accept anything less than what I thought Michael deserved. After fighting with the Board of Ed about evaluations, then visiting school, I was successful in my fight for my son. I got him into our first choice school. The one gift that Autism has granted me is that I am confident now that I can be a advocate, I can be a fighter.
So, at first I was in sort of a denial, then I focused all my energy on being my son's strong advocate, and now until the next battle (I guess) I find myself for the first time in a year and a half truly having to deal with this reality. I am accepting it now and I am letting myself feel the anger, frustration, sadness, and fear that has always been their. I love my son with all my heart and admire him for always rising up to challenges that life brings him that for other children are not so much of a challenge. I see how much he is progressing and how hard he works. I am marveled at how he can think of different ways to put his train tracks together as I observe his thinking process by taking pieces, looking at the shape, then looking at the structure, so that everything connects. I am so impressed by his great memory skills. He has memorized many of his favorite books! But, at the same time I have much anxiety about what the future holds for him. I see other children his age playing together and talking with each other about various things. Or simply asking each other to come and play or anticipating the arrival of a friend. That is a struggle for Michael. He has difficulty engaging is spontaneous open-ended conversations that come so naturally to most children and adults. I have cried to my husband many many times saying, "I just wish that Michael could play with other kids the right way"! Then I feel badly because I do not think any less of my son, I just so much want him to experience the fun and satisfaction that comes along with friendships. I am so proud of Michael and proud to be his Mother, but at the same time I am scared for him. Michael's teacher's like to say that Michael just learns differently. And yes, I do believe that and I have to accept that. My husband and I have had to accommodate and adapt our behaviors and outings to meet his needs and different ability in order for him to be successful. Some days we fail miserably and other days we relish in our success.
I read a story when I was in college, that having a child with a disability is like planning a trip to Italy, but instead you all of a sudden are sent to Holland. It is not that Holland is any less of a vacation then Italy, it is just different and not what you expected. I always keep this story in my head to help me to be strong when I am letting myself feel sorry for myself and angry that Autism has such a strong presence in our life. With all these strong emotions I have been experiencing for the last year and half, my love and devotion to my wonderful son will always surpass them in strength. Michael is an inspiration to me and I will always be thankful to him for giving me the strength to finally fight for what I believe in. I will never stop fighting and I will never give up hope.
So hear I go. Michael was diagnosed with Pervasive Developmental Disorder (PDD) when he was 20 months old. He is now three years old. He has not actually been diagnosed with Autism. But, when explaining it to family, friends, etc. I say that he does have a mild form of Autism because many people do not understand what PDD is. At first I really could not truly acknowledge that Michael was on the spectrum as all of a sudden we were bombarded with all theses services for him through Early Intervention. At first I was in a fog as I now had to coordinate Speech, Occupational, Physical, and Special Instruction Therapies. But that is what I had to do and that kept me from having to truly acknowledge and accept this reality. Reflecting back, I then basically went in to a "fight mode". From my teaching experience I knew that special education services do not come without a fight, and I would fight for my son, because the same hopes and dreams I had for him did not all of a sudden become diminished because of this diagnosis.
Intrinsically, I am not a fighter. I have always been intimidated easily. But, as the first roadblocks came when having to transition from Early Intervention to CPSE (Commitee for Pre-School Special Education) and dealing with the NYC board of Education, I quickly transformed into the strong and determined advocate that I had no choice to be for my son. When phone calls were not returned I would call back relentlessly until I got someone on the phone that could help me, I would be demanding, and I would not accept anything less than what I thought Michael deserved. After fighting with the Board of Ed about evaluations, then visiting school, I was successful in my fight for my son. I got him into our first choice school. The one gift that Autism has granted me is that I am confident now that I can be a advocate, I can be a fighter.
So, at first I was in sort of a denial, then I focused all my energy on being my son's strong advocate, and now until the next battle (I guess) I find myself for the first time in a year and a half truly having to deal with this reality. I am accepting it now and I am letting myself feel the anger, frustration, sadness, and fear that has always been their. I love my son with all my heart and admire him for always rising up to challenges that life brings him that for other children are not so much of a challenge. I see how much he is progressing and how hard he works. I am marveled at how he can think of different ways to put his train tracks together as I observe his thinking process by taking pieces, looking at the shape, then looking at the structure, so that everything connects. I am so impressed by his great memory skills. He has memorized many of his favorite books! But, at the same time I have much anxiety about what the future holds for him. I see other children his age playing together and talking with each other about various things. Or simply asking each other to come and play or anticipating the arrival of a friend. That is a struggle for Michael. He has difficulty engaging is spontaneous open-ended conversations that come so naturally to most children and adults. I have cried to my husband many many times saying, "I just wish that Michael could play with other kids the right way"! Then I feel badly because I do not think any less of my son, I just so much want him to experience the fun and satisfaction that comes along with friendships. I am so proud of Michael and proud to be his Mother, but at the same time I am scared for him. Michael's teacher's like to say that Michael just learns differently. And yes, I do believe that and I have to accept that. My husband and I have had to accommodate and adapt our behaviors and outings to meet his needs and different ability in order for him to be successful. Some days we fail miserably and other days we relish in our success.
I read a story when I was in college, that having a child with a disability is like planning a trip to Italy, but instead you all of a sudden are sent to Holland. It is not that Holland is any less of a vacation then Italy, it is just different and not what you expected. I always keep this story in my head to help me to be strong when I am letting myself feel sorry for myself and angry that Autism has such a strong presence in our life. With all these strong emotions I have been experiencing for the last year and half, my love and devotion to my wonderful son will always surpass them in strength. Michael is an inspiration to me and I will always be thankful to him for giving me the strength to finally fight for what I believe in. I will never stop fighting and I will never give up hope.
Monday, December 31, 2007
"These I Loved"
My little one and me walking walking mid-day on a quiet street down to the forest where the deer lay. The rustling we hear, "Shhhhh, I think I see one." And off it has gone, a little one herself. Now we are off to pick some wild daisies, they are the prettiest in her golden brown hair that shimmers in the sun.The green grass prickles our toes as we walk barefoot down to the springs. the mist rises off the water as we dive in feet first. The ice cold spring water bubbles all around us as we imitate it. We laugh, we laugh so loud that our echos are heard across the vast lake. We hear giggling and screetching of joy bounce back towards us and I hear, "let's do it again." What sweet joy it is to be so carefree for such a time.
Inspired by a poem "These I Loved"
Inspired by a poem "These I Loved"
"What's the Weather"
"What's the Weather"
"What's the Weather"
"What do you see"
"What do you see"
"Tell me what the weather is"
"Tell me what the weather is"
"Won't you please"
"Won't you please"
This morning as I dress Mia, she sings a few verses of this song. "Mama, sing with me." But I couldn't sing this song because I did not know it. Just then I burst into tears, some happy tears, some not. My baby learned this song in pre-school. "Mia I don't know that song, sing it to me so I can learn", I respond. I guess part of the tears is because I was strong the first week school began as Mia learned to separate from me. She has been doing well and I am so proud of her, but there are several house a week where I don't know what she is doing and I will admit that scares me. She has been by my side for the last 2 years and 9 months. The only time I was away from her was when Luca was born. Other than that I have never been apart from her. I promised myself that I would not hold on too tight. But I just didn't expect this so soon. I struggled all summer with the decision to send her to pre-school. I have made much more difficult and profound decisions in way less time. But I know this is what is best for her. I love when I pick her up from school and she says ,"Mama you came back, and That was great." Oh, how I will treasure this time in her life.
"What's the Weather"
"What do you see"
"What do you see"
"Tell me what the weather is"
"Tell me what the weather is"
"Won't you please"
"Won't you please"
This morning as I dress Mia, she sings a few verses of this song. "Mama, sing with me." But I couldn't sing this song because I did not know it. Just then I burst into tears, some happy tears, some not. My baby learned this song in pre-school. "Mia I don't know that song, sing it to me so I can learn", I respond. I guess part of the tears is because I was strong the first week school began as Mia learned to separate from me. She has been doing well and I am so proud of her, but there are several house a week where I don't know what she is doing and I will admit that scares me. She has been by my side for the last 2 years and 9 months. The only time I was away from her was when Luca was born. Other than that I have never been apart from her. I promised myself that I would not hold on too tight. But I just didn't expect this so soon. I struggled all summer with the decision to send her to pre-school. I have made much more difficult and profound decisions in way less time. But I know this is what is best for her. I love when I pick her up from school and she says ,"Mama you came back, and That was great." Oh, how I will treasure this time in her life.
I'm not Italian, I'm Upstate
The sun begins creeping in as I lift my boy out of the crib. He snuggles next to me and nurses himself back to sleep. He is nestled between both of us cozy and warm. As we drift back to sleep I stroke his golden brown hair.
We hear rustling in the bed next to us. She is rested and bright eyed as we hear "Luca's awake." She climbs into bed with us. All four of us lay safely in the small full-sized bed. The closeness brings me comfort. This is my family, we four are a family. Waking up on a weekend upstate, Papa asks his girl, "What do you want for breakfast?" Mia says, "Pasta". "Oh darling, you are Italian", laughs Papa. She adorably responds, "I'm not Italian, I'm Upstate!" Luca starts tossing and turning and POP - he jumps up to a sitting position as he does every morning. Mia looks at us and grins, "Luca's awake, good morning Luca."
Sunday morning, September 23, 2007
We hear rustling in the bed next to us. She is rested and bright eyed as we hear "Luca's awake." She climbs into bed with us. All four of us lay safely in the small full-sized bed. The closeness brings me comfort. This is my family, we four are a family. Waking up on a weekend upstate, Papa asks his girl, "What do you want for breakfast?" Mia says, "Pasta". "Oh darling, you are Italian", laughs Papa. She adorably responds, "I'm not Italian, I'm Upstate!" Luca starts tossing and turning and POP - he jumps up to a sitting position as he does every morning. Mia looks at us and grins, "Luca's awake, good morning Luca."
Sunday morning, September 23, 2007
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