How did it happen that there are only 10 days of school left? My daughter Leah is going into middle school next year and doesn’t seem at all fazed about fifth grade coming to an end. She’s very stoked about her summer which does sound pretty exciting. First she’s going to Chicago for two weeks with me and Kendall, then to France for two weeks with her mom, then to an overnight camp for FOUR weeks that she found on the Internet and where she knows no one, then a week at a camp at Sea World where she will be living INSIDE the park (I think that is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard of). God love her, she specifically wanted to do things where she’d meet new people, have new experiences, and challenge herself. Oy, is there still time for a DNA test, where did she get those genes? I was so terrified of summer camp as a kid that I practically had to be forced to go to the local Jewish day camp a few days a week. My only memory of those summers is the pool at the Bernard Horwich JCC that was chlorinated to the point of chemical asphyxiation and the squished peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I used to carry around in my back pocket. Will Leah avoid the memory blocks I now suffer from since she is clearly not locked in a fear-based childhood? I so admire her initiative to seek out enriching experiences and her endless ability to make new friends.
Leah has always eagerly accepted the changes that are part of growing up. So why do I mourn the END of everything? I just checked my blog from a year ago this week and sure enough I was writing about this very issue, my sadness at fourth grade coming to an end. It was even more insane last year because I wasn’t that hot on her teacher or what they were doing that year so you’d think I’d be happy that it was almost over. But no, I had to grieve the loss of that particular grouping of kids, that stage in Leah’s life. I love Leah’s current teacher and everything about her fifth grade experience but I still need to accept the inevitable and necessary transitions. If Leah were reading this, she’d say, “Dad, I’m the one who’s ending fifth grade, not you…GET A LIFE!”
But I was always this way. I remember going through exactly the same feelings during each of my 12 years as a student in the Chicago public schools, regardless of the fact that the older I got, the more contempt I had for the quality of the education I received in that system. I remember one thing I did every year on the last day of high school—I’ve never admitted this to anyone since it’s pretty dumb. I would spend every minute of those final days playing the theme music to “Room 222” in my head (remember that ridiculous show starring Karen Valentine as the plucky high school teacher who looked as young as her students?) while creating a visual montage in my mind of all the highlights of that school year. I’d repeat this in every class I had throughout the day. Although my outer persona was pure cynicism and relief at being that much closer to graduation, inside I was always creating nostalgic reveries that were as sappy as badly written TV show finales. I guess that was one of my primary survival mechanisms for getting by in those days—to treat my life like I was a regular on a TV series.
We went to an outdoor jazz concert at Leah’s school the other night where Leah played the clarinet with the fifth grade band (playing an instrument is required in fifth grade and they’ve come a long way since the fall but let’s just say that Essa-Peka Salonen won’t be calling any time soon). Watching those kids perform I marveled at how much they’ve all grown during the course of the year. I wondered how many of them will be in Leah’s middle school classes and what these amazing, diverse kids will be doing in ten years. Why didn’t I make more of an effort to get to know some of their parents this year or get more involved in school events? The last class I participated in was the Hanukkah celebration where I organized a game of Hanukkah Jeopardy and passed out latkes. The only time I really felt bonded to the school community was earlier this spring after the horrible tragedy at the school that killed a teacher and injured a bunch of students.
That strikes a familiar chord with me since the only time I tend to reach out to new people in my life is during some crisis or tragedy. Why can’t I overcome my timidity or fear of rejection during the “normal” times? Ironically, blogging has provided one of the only antidotes to that—it’s been great meeting and getting to know a few people as a result of writing in here. If only more people blogged, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard for me to make new friends. God, do I sound pathetic or what?
How wonderful that Leah is excited about her future, not terrified that each day will bring an intolerable sense of loss and regret.
And now on to those final days of school—not my school, but her school. Change is good, change is good, change is good…
Hey, Leah, why is your dad such a dork? He actually liked school? Teacher's pet!!!
Posted by: Neil | May 22, 2006 at 01:48 PM
I hated school AND was teacher's pet. So there!
Posted by: Danny | May 22, 2006 at 04:42 PM
Danny, my son is also finishing fifth grade, but (G-d bless him) Avi is still a little kid compared to your Leah; I was astounded to hear that it's only grade 5 she's finishing. Why did I think she's going into high school!?
Could she send over some of her fearless genes -- I could certainly use some. Whatever she's got, bottle it, market it and get it on the NY Stock Exchange!
I'll have to check in on your family in 10 years and see what that young lady of yours is doing then! She's certainly going places now...
Posted by: Pearl | May 22, 2006 at 05:22 PM
Sea World! If you plan to drop Leah off down here, ya'all come into Ocean Beach for a glass of wine and we can talk about just how much you cared about Ernest Borgnine's character in the Posideon Adventure.
Seriously though - I do live five minutes from Sea World and would be happy to assist if you need anything while Leah is staying down here. Like if she gets sick of fish and needs some french fries or something.
Posted by: Shannon | May 22, 2006 at 07:13 PM
What I wouldn't give to be able to go to camp for 5 weeks this summer! And camping in Sea World, no less? Sounds like Leah's "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" essay is gonna be pretty amazing. (Not that anybody actually has to write those anymore.)
Posted by: Heather | May 23, 2006 at 06:29 AM
The problem with treating life like a TV show is that one day you have to accept the fact that there's not always a moral at the end of the episode. Like the other day when I made a sandwich, and watched a video, and then at the end of the day thought to myself, "I have learned absolutely nothing from this experience. I should be cancelled."
And if you do manage to concentrate and bottle Leah's apparent fearlessness, sign me up for a crate. My childhood was full of NOT wanting to meet other people. And lots of crying when I had to. What's up with us shy people?
Posted by: The Retropolitan | May 23, 2006 at 06:33 AM
Oh Danny, I hear ya. I was writing about this exact same thing on my blog the other day, and discovered that a year ago I had the very same feelings. Endings are hard, summer is bittersweet. Hang in there.
Posted by: Vicki Forman | May 23, 2006 at 07:53 AM
Very interesting post Danny...I hated school too and didn't eat breakfast for twelve years, afraid I would throw it up!! It's so wonderful that Leah is on the opposite end of all that, isn't it? What a great summer she is going to have...(not one I would have wanted..heh heh...but....)
And going to France!!! Now that is fabulous!
Posted by: OldOldLady Of The Hills | May 23, 2006 at 10:35 AM
*sigh* Those were the good old days...well...sort of...
I too was a school hating teacher's pet...still am! (Although I hate college much less than I did grade school.)
I'm having trouble believing that my own little brother is now 16 and is going to be a junior in high school!! It's amazing how fast they grow up...
(btw...when will you be in Chicago?? There's lots of great stuff going on this summer...although I'm sure your fabulous sister has all sorts of plans for your trip.)
Posted by: Rosie | May 23, 2006 at 11:55 AM
I read the whole post, but all I could care about was: You're coming to Chicago! Yea! You'd better call...
Love,
Your Pretend Mother
Posted by: Elaine Soloway | May 23, 2006 at 02:37 PM
I love how you saw yourself inside a TV show of your own life. Wouldn't life be great, I often thought?, if we could wrap up all the mess in half an hour? Take a commercial break every now and then?
Nah. Probably not.
But I did love Room 222. And this post.
Posted by: david | May 24, 2006 at 06:21 AM
Danny;
I am so like you! My son is finishing sixth grade and it seems to me that his childhood is screeching to an sudden end. I keep thinking thoughts like "last day in the children's choir," "last year in the summer playground program" etc.
On the other hand, like your daughter he is trying exciting new activities and growing in confidence all the time. He's really gifted in music and that is bringing him into a whole new world of challenges and new acquaintances. I sometimes can't believe how different he is from a 12-year-old me. When I was 12, I certainly didn't want to spend every Saturday morning playing the violin! He loves it and dreaded missing one rehearsal when we went on vacation.
Thanks for mentioning "Room 222." I've been meaning to search the internet for a photo of Paul and his 'fro to show my son and you reminded me!
Carpe diem, Julie
Posted by: Julie Voss | May 24, 2006 at 09:11 PM
Leah sounds like a girl I would get along with. I envy her for being able to stay at Sea World for a week, one of my favorite places in the whole world. (I am obsessed with dolphins and killer whales!)
I also used to play the clarinet when I was in school. I remember when I used to practice in my room after school, my dad would make cracks about how it sounded like I was torturing a goose. I always got so mad at him for it, but now I can't help but laugh. It really did sound like that! Only because, frustratingly, I could never seem to keep my reeds from splitting.
Posted by: Rebekah | October 27, 2007 at 07:50 PM