Relevant History

Tutoring

My son has started tutoring in reading. He's not as strong a reader as we'd like, or as strong as he'd like. So twice a week we take him to a reading expert. She's a former Peninsula teacher, and is actually someone my wife had as a child.

His enthusiasm is striking, because when I was a kid, getting tutored was a Bad Thing. Certainly you didn't look forward to it, or expect it to be fun. I don't know if this is a general change in kids' attitudes, or something specific to this area, or an extension of their general Peninsula-bred love of school. My kids look forward to Monday coming around so they can go back to school, and my daughter and her friends always complain about the end of the school, so those attitudes probably influence their attitudes toward turoring. And my son has known Marion (her tutor) for ages, and that made him more excited to be working with her.

And while I haven't done any surveys, my sense is that a lot more of my kids' friends are doing that in an earlier age might have been seen as remedial, and not talked much about. At least two or three of my son's friends have worked with Marion, which goes a long way to normalizing it. And for kids who already are taking music lessons, are in swimming clubs or little league, or doing lots of other scheduled things, tutoring or speech therapy probably doesn't seem like anything out of the ordinary.

So he'd better be reading Tolstoy by September, or I'm going ask for my money back.

The scene before camping

The kids are all running around, and the parents are all hanging out, chatting. At this age each group more or less amiably ignores the other. I love the kids getting older.

Camping is a big part of Peninsula education. I was skeptical of it at first-- I've not done a lot of camping, to tell the truth-- but the kids love it, and they DO learn a lot. By the time they're in 8th grade, they're planning the entire thing.

Tyrolean zip line

For the kids, one of the high points (no pun intended) of the Spring Fair is the zip line, which runs from the Big Building to a couple hay bales near one of the classrooms.

my daughter on the line, via flickr

The first year we came to the Spring Faire, my daughter was interested in the zip line, but didn't feel ready to try it herself. The next year, though, she went on it, and every year since. This year, she eve won a free second ride.

me on the zip line, via flickr

My son's bolder: he went on it at a younger age than his sister, and this year went on it half a dozen times (not cheap, but this is a once-a-year thing.

Recently I've been thinking about how parents and children are connected, and how watching children can illuminate aspects of ourselves, let us see capabilities that we don't normally pay attention to. I see myself as more of an athlete than I used to, after watching them in the pool at the Y; I also suspect I'm a more social animal than I believed myself to be (or in the immortal words of one of my daughter's friends, "I'm not an introvert. I'm very extroverted. I just don't like you very much"). It's not all positive stuff: when I deal with my son's outbursts, I know exactly where he's coming from, because I recognize his temper in myself, and the only difference is that I've managed to discipline it, but not eliminate it.

However, it's good to see your kids do something brave or impressive, and to believe that they might have inherited that talent from you. Of course, it's just as likely that they inherited it from their mother, or that equal measure of environmental and genetic factors shape their personalities. Still, it's a useful way to think about your own interests and capabilities, to give yourself the freedom to try out (and succeed at) new things, and to assume that you have a natural ability to this new thing. After all, if the kids can do it, so can you.

Ghosts of Spring Fairs past

I realized tonight that we've been going to the Fair for a number of years now.

me and my son in 2003

It's interesting for me to reread what I wrote about the Fair in years past: I tend to see it as a concentrated dose of Peninsula culture, or an event that I can subject to an amateur thick description-- a ritual that shines a light on a whole world. And of course, there's face paint.

my son in 2005

I've long appreciated the amount of time parents put into organizing and running it, but what strikes me this year is the degree to which the kids are also involved in putting on the Fair. My kids have always enjoyed going to the fair, but this year they were enthusiastic about going the day before to help set up, and of course going back the next morning. It seemed unthinkable to them that we wouldn't do setup-- which of course is just what made our going inevitable.

from 2006 (hmm, does this extra weight make me look fat?)

The school spends a lot of time talking about its distinctive culture, and arguing about how much we can (or should try to) describe it; however, what's missing from these discussions is a recognition of the basic fact that while the parents (and adults more generally) are indispensable to the running of the school, we may not actually be central to its culture. It's the kids who really own it. That's a slightly radical idea, especially for a bunch of intelligent of often pretty egocentric grownups who are used to creating and controlling things (welcome to Silicon Valley, where pride is our favorite of the Seven Deadly Sins). Certainly if you take an active, performative view of culture, we're but the chorus; and factor in the tacit knowledge that circulates among and is shared by the kids but never makes it to the grownups, and parents become rather peripheral.

Setting out signs for the Spring Fair

Sunday morning my kids got me up before 7 to... go to school.

The day before, we had been at Peninsula (at their insistence), setting up for the Spring Fair. My daughter was invited to come back the next morning to set out "no parking " signs around the neighborhood.

This is actually a nontrivial thing. One of the most important things any private school in the area has to do, from what I can tell, is not alienate the neighbors over parking. Every school seems to go to great lengths to make sure that clueless parents don't park in the neighbors during back to school night.

So the next morning I drove the kids over to school at 7:30. I had visions of dropping them off, making sure they were fine, then heading to a Starbucks. I didn't have any coffee before we left.

Of course, it didn't work out that way. First, we got the signs loaded into the truck, a battered old Toyota that looks like it's served the school about as long as internal combustion has been in existence. Then the kids climbed into the back, and after getting some friendly but very clear safety instruction, we were on our way.

via flickr

We drove up and down the streets, stopping occasionally to set out signs. The kids would hand them over to the parents, who'd then set them up.

via flickr

The kids really enjoyed being in the truck, of course: they don't often get to ride around in vehicles like this, and when they weren't working, they were trying to touch the trees as they passed.

via flickr

At some point, jogging behind the truck, it occurred to me that I probably looked like the personal security detail for the first family of a Third World dictatorship, or a "freedom fighter" on my way to liberate a radio station in my nation's second-largest city. Though I left my AK-47 at home.

via flickr

Of course, the kids had a fantastic time. Not only was it cool for them to drive around and throw things out of a truck; it was cool for me to see how readily and willingly they gave up their Sunday morning to work. I don't think they're motivated by loyalty, or the kind of impulse that sometimes moves me to do alumni interviews for my alma mater; it's something deeper, that doesn't involve as much calculation. With luck, they'll find other places in their lives that deserve this kind of investment, and reward it.

And I never made it to Starbucks, but it was okay. They had coffee at the Big Building.

via flickr

Stuffie cafe

Last week my daughter's class held its annual Penny Carnival. The Penny Carnival is one of the cooler things that Peninsula does, and is a great example of how school events bring together the older and younger kids.

In the penny carnival, kids from the lower school come to the fourth grade class to do activities, like face painting and petting animals. They also bring their stuffies, and leave them in stuffie day care.

I noticed that one of the stuffie day care areas was something she had made at home a few days before: a little stuffie-sized cafe.

I asked how she chose a cafe. She explained that they wanted something global. "We had the London Eye, and an Eiffel tower from Paris," she explained. "But we also wanted something American. So I made a cafe."

When I was growing up, cafes were things we read about in travel books. Now, they're so ubiquitous my daughter (who's spent plenty of time in them, thanks to me) can consider them quintessentially American.

She later added that this particular stuffie cafe is located in New Jersey.

Delicious but deadly (for diets at least)

Working the Toy Mashup booth at the Spring Fair

The Spring Fair is ready for business

We don't start until 11, but still, everything looks great. Just hope the weather holds!

About to distribute No Parking signs

I lost precious sleep getting them here at 7:30, but I guarantee they'll never forget doing this. And now they'll want to do it again next year.

Getting thrown out of the Penny Carnival

Penny Carnival today!

Welcome to the Mad Hatters

Alice at the Mad Hatters

Mad Hatters Tea Party

Today's Peninsula picture

My daughter on her way to the library this morning.

I'm taking the weekend off and going camping with my son. There's no cell phone reception where we'll be, so I'll be completely unwired. More removed from my digital self than I am when I go to London or Singapore. A weird idea. I've packed clothes, food, sleeping gear, and Fagels' translation of the Iliad for myself and several Bone graphic novels for my son.

Back on Sunday.

Getting in some swinging before class

Finishing up

Still haven't left. But we're closer to the ground...

Not making much progress yet

The quest to leave begins

Leaving Peninsula

Me and my son out biking

This is from last weekend, but I just got the pictures downloaded off my camera. And we were biking today, too.

via flickr

Out with my son for an afternoon ride

Practicing riding his new, big bike.

We first went to Peninsula. "It's good to be back at school," he said. (He was here yesterday.)

Next stop: the park.

Still. Trying. To. Leave.

My son on the dinosaur sculpture.

We gotta go, kid!

Still trying to leave...

The only kid I know who would even try to do a cartwheel on muddy ground. The kid loves to cartwheel. I don't really get it.

The kids in the background, she later explained, are "part of her fan club." Apparently she often goes over to the nursery school child care-- in the classroom next door to where she spends her afternoons-- and reads to the little kids. A great example of how the school manages to mix kids from various grades, to everyone's benefit.

They're so anxious to leave school

Most afternoons are like this. My son is on a dinosaur climber (it seems So Big when my daughter was in nursery school here), and my daughter is in the background, swinging.

Shoes off, please!

Nursery Blue gate

England prepares for the Armada

Spanish Armada day at Peninsula!

Overheard at Peninsula this morning

One student to another: "I know that Gray's Anatomy is, like, a textbook. So how were they able to make it into a TV series?"

Rainy morning

Why walk around the puddle?

Renaissance backstop

I don't know what game this originally was built for, but I've always liked the display of linear perspective.

And we're on to 44

Watching the inauguration at Peninsula

Big Building and little building

The school is full of treehouses and other miniature properties. I think it's a reflecton of the Valley's obsession with real estate.

Foggy morning

Peninsula this morning

The Big Puddle is getting pretty, well, big. My daughter is very excited. Excellent puddle surfing today! (Don't ask.)

Back to my regularly-scheduled life

Child care

The blurs are kids running, of course.

Fresh leaf maze

Afternoon at the Big Building

Yet another Craft Fair post

It's getting colder, I swear. But there are lots of kids running around, the band is playing, and my batteries haven't given out. So all is well.

Upstairs in the Big Building

Sharing tree

"Write down something or someone you are grateful for and hang it on the tree."

Little people

From Applepin and Little Goose studio

Scenes from the Craft Fair

Girl Scout table

Kids craft area