A Response to an article entitled “American Preparatory Academy”

A Response to an article entitled “American Preparatory Academy“:

I love charter schools. I love what they represent… choice. I honestly do not see the negative side of charter schools.

Because I’m curious I’ve googled “charter school opposition” (or something like that). Then I googled (American Preparatory Academy scandals because 1) It was a criticism that charter schools are known for scandals and 2) I was curious about my son’s school. Just as a side note, this is the only article, and I was proud of my school in the end.)   I do not feel as though the opposition has a good argument. But, for now, I digress and move onto this particular blog post.

For whatever reason when I went to comment on the post the comments weren’t working, so I’m blogging about it.

The blog post is simply a straight forward copy and paste of an article from the Salt Lake Tribune with no commentary. Well… kind of. You see, the author links to the news article, but then copy and pastes only excerpts of the article that suits the needs of his/her agenda. At first, reading the article, I didn’t realize that the entire article was not included. She quotes a large portion and then adds in “…”. Then quotes another large portion and ends with another “…”. Now, to my understanding, when one uses the “…” to indicate that material has been removed, the removed material should not have any bearing on the meaning of the overall story. The second “…” was used correctly, however, if one digs a little farther the first “…” changes the entire outcome of the American Preparatory Academy “scandal.”

So, basically, here’s what happened:

In the portion that the author quoted it is revealed that,

“The academy pays a charter school management company $986 a year per student to run its two schools, according to the management agreement. The company is owned by sisters of the chairman of the academy’s board.”

“With about 1,140 students enrolled in American Preparatory Academy’s two schools, the for-profit management company, led by Carolyn Sharette, receives more than $1 million a year, she said. Sharette’s brother, Howard Headlee, chairs the American Preparatory board, which hired Sharette’s company.”

“Sharette, Headlee and their sister Laura Campbell opened the first school together in 2003. Sharette and Campbell worked at the school and later created the charter management company, called American Preparatory Schools Inc…”

Whoa. That sounds a little dicey. And that’s exactly where the author of the blog leaves the story and how he/she wants you to feel… a little icky.

However, if you dig a little further (ie click the link to the original story and read the whole thing, you then find out):

“Sharette said setting up a management company became necessary to allow her to assist other charter schools that were approaching her for help without using American Preparatory Academy’s resources.”

“Headlee did not attend the meeting in which the board voted to hire Sharette’s company, did not participate in discussions about it and previously declared his conflict of interest, according to minutes of the 2008 meeting in which the board voted to hire Sharette’s company.

Headlee said he has no financial interest in his sister’s company. He said the board followed competitive bidding practices required by state law but Sharette’s bid was the only one that met the needs of the school’s instruction model.

Sharette’s company employs the academy’s administrators and handles the school’s finances and academics.”

So, after reading the entire article concerning APA we find out, in fact, that while there may be questions, those questions were answered in such a way that everything is above ground. We find out that the charter management company owner started the company, not to embezzle money, but rather to protect the charter school and help others, that the brother did not participate in the hiring process of his sister’s management company, and that while the company gets $986 per student per year at least part of that money goes right back to the school in the form of salary for the administrators and is compensation for being  the school’s accountant, if you will.

What irks me is that the author of the blog left readers to believe that there were some shady dealings being done, when in actuality, those involved were really trying to do what was best for the school and avoid accusations of nepotism. The author wishes to promote the idea that charter schools are wrong because there are scandals attached to them. However, here’s the thing… public schools have scandals too.

In a comment she asks “but what’s wrong with them finding my blog where they will only end up reading a Salt Lake Tribune article about the school?”

The answer is that it’s wrong because of the excerpt posted can lead people to believe there was a scandal, when in fact those involved answered openly, honestly, and had done everything according to the law. It’s wrong because by the very fact of posting it on a blog entitled “Charter School Scandals” leads people to believe there was a scandal.

I don’t mind that the blog exists. It’s well within the American’s freedom to collect scandalous articles and have them all in one location, and could perhaps be helpful at times. However, what I do mind is people purposefully trying to distort information to benefit themselves or their agenda. It just isn’t helpful to the conversation. If this person thinks that charter schools are wrong or add to corruption within education then they should support their case with honesty and integrity.

As an end note in regards to the second school mentioned in the article, Monticello Academy, another local charter school, I think the State Charter Board was correct in “ousting” the director of the school. They did so because of parent complaints “of low teacher morale and efforts to block parental involvement in the school’s management,” lead to an investigation. To me, that’s what charter schools are all about. The parents wanted their teachers to be happier and so be able to perform their jobs better. They also wanted more involvement in the school. When they didn’t get what they wanted they went about changing things. They held power in their school. I think that’s awesome (this coming from a former teacher), and I don’t think that’s true in the public schools.

Healthy Eating

Has anyone ever noticed that there is seemingly no spectrum of eating healthy? It’s almost as though you’re a 1 – eating crap… or a 10 – a vegan living on a raw food diet. Ok, ok, I know that’s not the case.

I have never been one who has paid much attention to eating healthy. I’m not really proud of that statement, but it’s the truth and it’s life. I have had people in my life who have gone from a “normal” diet, eating hamburgers, fries, pizza, with fruits and veggies sprinkled in to the very next day, seemingly, reveling in their asparagus and brussels sprout smoothie for breakfast gloating about how delicious it is on social media sites.

I am not that type of person.

I don’t think I have it in me to simply and completely walk away from the way I’m used to eating.

I want to eat healthier and I want my family too as well. So, I started implementing small changes. Ordering from a food co-op was the best thing I could have done. It has made me aware that there is an obvious and big difference in quality of meats. I am now pretty picky about the type of meat I choose for my family and am willing to pay the price. One also offers 9-grain bread. You have to buy 5 loaves at once, so I convinced a couple of friends to try it out with me and now I won’t go back. I hate it when we run out and miss out on ordering more. Beyond that the co-ops have given us new types of fruits and vegetables that weren’t on my radar before. I probably never would have bought cauliflower, but found out it is a favorite of my daughter. We just tried plums today and both the kids liked  it (after I forced them to try it!)

I’ve also tried to reorient how I have my kids eat. If they claim to be hungry, I will give them options of the different fruits and veggies we have. If they say they don’t want that, but want (insert unhealthy snack here) I say, “Well then, you’re not really hungry.” I want them to understand (and get into the habit) that when they’re hungry the best thing to do is grab fruits or veggies. Don’t get me wrong, they get treats, but I want snacking to be healthy.

I’ve also come to the dinner table differently. Just last night we had sloppy Joe’s with raw carrots and broccoli. (In the past I’d probably serve this with chips instead… so don’t judge me for the sloppy Joe. ) Anyhow, my daughter didn’t want to eat the sandwich but ate a ton of carrots and broccoli. So, do I force her to take some bites of the sandwich? Really? If she’s happy with the veggies and can fill up, shouldn’t that be ok? So I didn’t push the issue. Today she ate the ham and cheese from her sandwich, but not the bread. Again do I push the issue? Should I make her eat a sandwich a normal way, or allow her to do it her way and so not love carbs as much as I do? I let it go. I’m not convinced I did the right thing in either setting, but I think it’s partly because I was raised in the culture pushing “clean plate clubber” membership. But, I want my kids to learn to stop eating when they’re satisfied.

Here’s my biggest frustration with all this. I’ve made some good healthy steps in the right direction. But when I try to look out there in the internet world about the next step to take, I’m off to asparagus and brussels sprout smoothie land where I don’t know what half of the ingredients are in recipes. To top it off, the recipes have about 100 ingredients and take about an hour of your time. I’m not ready for that. I’m just happy if I can get a meal on the table. I wish there was some type of transition-to-healthy-eating website that lead you through steps of things to add into and take out of your diet progressively. Or one that catered healthy recipes to busy moms that includes freezer meals and crockpots!

I’m happy to take tips, ideas, recipes, advice, amens! and encouragement. But please don’t expect me to being making the above mentioned smoothie tomorrow morning!

Sin is like…

Sin is like being born in house arrest. You have freedom. You can eat your choice of any ten different, delicious dinners. You have ten different solid gray-scale shirts to choose from each morning. You can go outside to swing or toss a ball around. You can see the sun and the sky each day.  This is not prison. You do not feel stifled at all. You have always felt free and safe. You know there’s an outside world, but it’s a frightening, unknown place. You’re convinced it has nothing to offer you and have been told that there are rules you must live by, which seems incredibly oppressive. You can’t imagine why anyone would chose to live under rules when you had complete freedom in your home.

Then one day your ball bounces over your fence and you walk down the street a little way to retrieve it. In your neighbor’s yard you notice a slide and you begin to become curious about it. But your ankle monitor doesn’t allow you to travel any farther. All of a sudden the next day, you’re a little put out by having to stay in your yard. You want to experience the slide. You begin to notice that you don’t have every freedom that you would like to have. The next day you decide to make a run for it. You run to your neighbor’s yard and slide down the slide. Of course the monitor goes off and a guard is at your side within minutes dragging you back to your house.

You’ve now tasted a bit of freedom and begin to wonder what life is really like outside of your house. However, you’re beaten down and feel alone and scared. Not being content with your home any longer you begin to seek help and plead to be released from house arrest. Finally, you are granted mercy. You may have complete freedom to roam about the world, but your ankle monitor will remain on your leg. That’s ok with you, it hardly weighs you down.

You leave your house and walk past your neighbor’s house. You leave your street behind and finally your neighborhood. You are exploring the wonderful freedom that has been lost on you before. You realize that there are millions of different, delicious food options. You see people dressed in clothing of all different colors and styles. As you continue to travel you experience the snow in the mountains and the beaches in the tropics. Eventually, encounter the rules you were told of. However, even the rules seem to be in place as a protection for the people. For example: Rule #3 “Don’t jump in front of a moving train.” “Really,” you think, “that leads to death, why would I want to do that anyway?”

Along the way someone trips you, but you get up again. However, it begins to happen more often. You get tripped and brought down and you begin to think of the beautiful safety and freedom of your house. It was such a beautiful little cottage, with flower boxes in the window, luxurious green grass, and the most comfortable of beds. The comfort that it always gave you. Without even realizing what you’re doing your feet lead you automatically toward home. It’s been an easy trip with no one tripping you along the way. Ah yes. Life is just so easy at home.

As you walk up you begin to notice things you never noticed before. There are bars on the windows and several large, heavy locks on the door. The grass is brown and ugly. The ball barely bounces. The food you once found delicious is disgusting and leaves a stench throughout the house. The clothes in your closet are drab. The bed is hard and lumpy. You decide this wasn’t what you remembered or want out of life, but it’s too late. The home automation system has already locked you in for the night. Feeling helpless and hopeless you decide to sleep.

Waking up with the house bathed in morning light, it no longer seems so bad and you’ve once again become accustomed to the stench and taste of the food. “It’s not so bad here,” you decide. You easily slip into your old habits and routines. Then one day, as you’re sitting out on your swing you feel the breeze and it snaps you out of your daze. You remember the humid, salty, coconut scented breeze of the beach and you suddenly can’t remember why you’ve come back and certainly not why you’ve stayed so long.

You set out to leave, but it’s hard to do so again. You’re ankle monitor, which has never bothered you before, suddenly feels like it weighs 100 lbs but you drag your leg out the door. It’s a battle moving down the street.  The further you get from home the heavier the ankle monitor feels and weighs you down. The harder it gets to move. You give up and head for home. Again you find contentment in your old habits and routines.

After a while you begin day-dreaming day in and day out of the freedom you once knew. You decide to leave again. Once again the ankle monitor weighs you down, but you’re more prepared and more determined. It slows your journey until one day you realize it feels weightless again. You begin to revel once again in your true freedom. The more time you spend away from your  house the more and more realize that your house was the true prison and now you were experiencing true freedom. That even the rules that were put in place for your own protection and allowed for far more freedom than the oppression of the barred windows, drab wardrobe and tasteless, smelly slop you ate for food.

Even with this knowledge, your house still haunts your heart and yells out to you calling you home. You even decide to go home again. But standing across the street, you once again are shocked by prison-style house that stands in front of you. You break into a run to put as much space as you can between you and it. Every so often it creeps into your thoughts. But this time you have truth on your side. When you picture your house in your mind instead of seeing flower boxes you remember the bars. Instead of believing your bed is the most comfortable of feather mattresses you remember the hard lumps. Armed with the truth of your past imprisonment you began to become adept at pushing thoughts of your house away.

The thoughts and longings come less and less often the longer you’re from home. And one day you wake up and realize it holds no draw to you. You wouldn’t go back there even if someone paid you a million dollars. You swing your feet around the bed and place them on the floor and you’re astonished to find that your ankle monitor is not snapped. The lock has somehow come undone. Without hesitation you take the last piece of your life linking you to your past prison, drive down to the beach and chuck it into the vast ocean before you. You are free. Truly, completely, and totally free. As you sit down on the beach drawing your knees to your chest, you think back on your life and are astonished that you once thought your prison was freedom and that true freedom was a prison.

The Church is Like… A Hotel?

Before you throw stones at me and deem me a heretic hear me out.

In 1 Corinthians 12 Paul talks about followers of Christ belonging together as a body. A body that has many members that each have their own “jobs” or gifts. I love that analogy. Some people act as the brain, or mouth, ears, heart, hands, knees, or feet. We each have different personalities, gifts, passions, backgrounds and even baggage that leads us to be molded into a hand rather than a foot or a brain rather than an ear.

When I first started working at my hotel, I remember thinking that, in a sense, it runs like a well-oiled machine… (or body, if you will.) Each person was hired to do an individual job, and their job helps others do their jobs. I was hired to be a banquet server. I wasn’t hired to do dishes, but I’m grateful to the person who is, because that makes it possible for me to do my job… to do my part in running the hotel.

Well, a few weeks ago we had a huge conference come in for two full weeks. The banquet people were basically serving about 150 – 200 people, depending on the day. Since I don’t work often, my first day was a couple days into the event. I was surprised to find one of our front desk employees in the kitchen chopping vegetables and washing dishes. He explained that he was just working in the kitchen because they needed him to.

Throughout the next two weeks as I watched our accountant help clean tables, or front desk people chop veggies, or the General Manager help with the food prep I was struck by how much the body of Christ is like a hotel. Not only are each of us hired for a specific job, but if someone else needs help, we help, regardless of our job description. Why? Because we have one goal: To make our hotel stand out to our customers and give them a good experience, so that they will return, bringing us continued revenue (and jobs!)

So, as a member of the body of Christ, if I’m an ear, I’m no less important then a foot, nor is a hand less important than a brain. We each have been given “jobs” to do. But at the same time sometimes there’s a need, the foot is getting extra busy so the brain comes to help, or the body needs more than two hands for a time and the ears jump in to help. Why? Because we all have a common goal: To glorify God and to be the body (the arms that hug, the feet that bring food, the mouth that speaks) of Christ on earth.

A Jelly Bean Memory

I don’t like jelly beans… I really don’t. My one and only exception to that rule is the Starburst jelly beans, because let’s face it… they don’t taste like jelly beans.

At Easter my mother-in-law sent a bag of jelly beans to the kids and it wasn’t the first thing opened, since each child also had their own bag of different types of candy. Anyhow, my husband eventually broke into the jelly bean bag and the kids were all too happy to share. As we piled onto the bed just hanging out with the bag of jelly beans near by my daughter fed me one. And how could I say no to such a beautiful precious little girl?

As I ate the jelly bean I was taken back 20-25 years and I was sneaking a step stool into my grandpa’s kitchen climbing on the counter trying to get to his jelly beans and gum drops. Oh how I miss those white candy “jars” and childhood.

Other memories from Grandma and Grandpa’s house… The awful well water, and the juice mixture grandma always served, running around and playing with my cousins, and playing Gremlins on Grandpa’s computer, Grandma’s roses, and sleeping in the back bedroom (my favorite place), the scary basement and the tire swing. I wish I could go back.

I love you and miss you Grandpa Todd! (And Grandma too, since I haven’t seen you in a while!)

Music/Music Videos and Sexualization

Word of Warning: I’ve decided not to link to the videos because of how bad I feel they are. However, I especially plead with men NOT to find and watch them. Just trust me. K?! 

I recently posted an article on the sexualization of young girls, it got my mind rolling. Recently, a friend was pretty upset that her 9-year-old daughter’s jazz class was being taught a dance to Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. (As well she should have been.) Really? At nine years old? And she said that while her daughter had never heard the song, that the other girls not only knew it but knew the words!  Wow.

So I began to wonder… Who would have been this type of sex symbol when I was nine? Madonna. So, in 1989 what would have been one of Madonna’s top songs? Cherish. Here are the words to the chorus:

Cherish the thought
Of always having you here by my side
(Oh baby I) cherish the joy
You keep bringing it into my life (I’m always singing it)
Cherish the strength
You got the power to make me feel good
(And baby I) perish the thought
Of ever leaving, I never would

So, the words are not provocative at all, but the video made me a bit uncomfortable. (Granted she may have more risque songs that I just don’t know about. This is just a snapshot.)

Then, I thought about Brittany Spears and how she had once been a child star and tween idol. Then, at barely 20, in 2001 she released I’m a slave 4U. I was told the song was about her feeling like a slave to the industry and wanting to break out of being seen as a tween’s role model and wanted to be counted as a woman. My question would be: Do you want to be seen as a woman or a sex object? Here’s the chorus to her song:

Get it-get it, get it-get it, what?
Get it-get it, get it-get it, what?
Get it-get it, get it-get it, what?
(This feels good)

I’m a slave for you
I can not hold it, I can not control it
I’m a slave for you
I won’t deny it, I’m not trying to hide it

Baby, don’t you want to dance up on me?
(I just want to dance next to you)
To another time and place
Oh baby, don’t you want to dance up on me?
(Are you ready?)
Leaving behind my name and age

Trust me the rest of the lyrics aren’t much better. The song begins as though she may be talking about being a slave to her fans, but um… well, then it’s about wanting to dance with a guy. Trust me the video is worse. Can a music video get more sexual? Can a woman be more scantily clad? Surely not.

Enter Lady Gaga and Bad Romance. Her one redeeming quality is that she was never a role model for young girls. At the same time, I hope those girls in my friend’s daughter’s dance class have at least never seen the video. Here are the lyrics to what seems like the chorus:

I want your love and
I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
(Oh-oh-oh-oh)
I want your love and
All your lover’s revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Caught in a bad romance
(x2)

Ra ra-ah-ah-ah
Roma, roma-ma
Gaga
Ooh la-la
Want your bad romance

Basically the song doesn’t really make sense to me. I don’t get it. Maybe it’s because I’m blessed with a pretty “clean” mind. Maybe it’s because I’m completely out of the pop culture loop. Regardless, it just doesn’t make sense to me. And the video? Let me just say: PLEASE BLOCK MUSIC VIDEOS FROM YOUR HOMES. YOUNG OR OLD YOU DON’T NEED TO BE PUTTING THIS TRASH IN YOUR MIND MUCH LESS WANTING IT IN YOUR CHILD’S!

The last thing I have to say is, “Thanks mom for being a good, proactive mom and not allowing me to watch MTV even though I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t let me watch it at the time. Even when I thought I was old enough to watch it. I appreciate the punishment you gave me when you caught me watching it. A million times over, thanks mom!”

A Response to Little Girls Gone Wild

[Original Article]

A hit and yet a miss…When I first ran across this article I thought, “Wow! The secular world is finally taking note of our young girls being sexualized. That’s great!” But I feel like the article left something to be desired.I completely agree that t.v. shows and movies have lead girls and tweens that dress/act inappropriately and/or have bad attitudes. But even if the shows are somewhat family friendly the tween (or younger) role models are then plastered on our news stations with drug issues, dressed like a  promiscuous college student or any number of things we don’t desire for our children.

But, that’s where my agreement with the article stops. For, she quotes Peggy Orensein the author of Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches From the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. Saying that this sexualization actually starts with toddlers’ love for princesses. Wait. What?! Yes princesses. She goes on to explain that, “Sexualization is not only imposing sexuality on children before they’re ready and viewing girls as sexual objects, but also valuing a girl for her appearance over her other attributes.”

First, I have not found this definition of sexulalization anywhere. In fact, the definition according to the American Pychological Association is, “1) When a person’s worth is assumed to only come from his or her sexiness; 2) When a child is expected or encouraged to act or dress sexually; 3) When a person is treated as a sex object rather than as a whole person; and/or 4) When physical characteristics are considered to be the only indicator of sexiness.” – Now, point one and four may correlate with Orenstein’s definition but then she’s equating appearance for sexiness, and I think we need to separate the two.

I also don’t think that a love for princesses (or the princess movies) teach girls that they “should want to be the Fairest of Them All.” Why don’t I think this? Well, Cinderella was a slave in her own home working harder than the non-princess, ugly, snotty step-sisters. Snow White was sent away and worked diligently within her home made up of the seven dwarfs. Belle loved to read and think, she wanted adventure, and selflessly gave up her life for her father’s. I haven’t seen Princess and the Frog or Tangled (although, it seems like Rapunzel was portrayed as pretty vivacious!) so I can’t speak about them. Now, don’t get me wrong Snow White and Sleeping Beauty have some pretty messed up mother-figures in their lives seeking the beauty of youth and causing others harm in order to gain it, but the princesses themselves didn’t really seek beauty, rather it found them, and it was found not only in their appearance but also in their character. Besides all that, my daughter is almost three, loves her princess bed and her princess dress up, and even her plastic, jeweled, feathery high heeled shoes, but are those things in and of themselves really teaching her that physical beauty is the only place worth lies or that she is valued only for her appearance? No.

The article continues, talking about a mom who took her 4 and 7-year-olds to a salon in Disney’s theme park for the whole spa treatment and how she regretted it in the end. The girls didn’t enjoy their beauty make over and thought the treatments itchy and uncomfortable. First, I must say, 4 and 7 seems awfully young for mani/pedis and updos. But just because this is true doesn’t mean we should condemn being a “girlie-girl” either, which is what the author of the article essentially does. The author basically says that as moms we shouldn’t bond with our daughters over shopping and spa treatments. Again, is it the shopping and spa treatments that are really causing our daughters to be sexualized or even teaches our daughters that beauty is the end-all? I don’t think so and hopefully we’re bonding over other things too. And while my daughter has yet to see the most fabulous chair of all chairs, the pedicure chair, I have most certainly given her “pretty toes” a.k.a. I’ve painted her toe nails. And she loves it! Why? Because they’re like mommy’s!

Finally, the author gives suggestions about avoiding this sexualization by putting your daughter in sports rather than dance and by not sexualizing a boy-girl relationship. Like when your five-year-old daughter goes off to play with your friend’s five-year-old son you shouldn’t giggle about what a cute couple they make and plan their wedding.

While putting girls in sports is not wrong, in my experience the more sporty a girl is the more she losses her femininity, and some just don’t enjoy or are not good at sports. It’s just not a good solution. I also disagree with the idea that giggling over the cute five-year-old couple somehow sexualizes the boy-girl relationship. It’s just cute, (and I doubt at that age they realize that marriage = sex. Hopefully, mine would think marriage = friendship) and I venture to say women have done it through the ages without consequences to boy-girl relationships.

So what would my answer be to this problem within our culture? As I reflect on this I realize, our daughters view themselves a lot how their mommy views herself. I remember an older (than me) woman in my life while I was in college had a toddler daughter. She expressed the fact that she wanted to loose the rest of her baby weight, but more than anything wanted to be content with her body and her self image so that she didn’t pass those negative feelings to her daughter. This is where I think we need to start.

As mothers we need to show our girls how we dress modestly and still feminine, how we do our hair and makeup and take care of our bodies, not only for ourselves and to please our husbands, but also because we desire to glorify God. It means teaching them the joys of being a woman, even if that includes shopping and spa treatments, but making sure it includes submission to our husbands and contentment in serving our families. It means teaching our daughters through example that we don’t find our worth in how we look or what we do but rather in who we are in Christ. If we can teach our daughters and give them a firm foundation that their self-identity is grounded in Christ and not the world I think we will have done our jobs. This may include getting rid of television and magazines, even worldly dance classes, and certain music, but that doesn’t mean we should have to forgo entertainment and the arts in general, raising our girls to dislike the femininity that comes with womanhood.

So whether our girls play sports or aspire to be a prima ballerina, a CEO or a homemaker, let’s teach them an appropriate view of sex and sexuality. Let’s teach them to be feminine and beautiful, yet that true beauty comes from who we are on the inside. Let’s teach them how to find their worth as a daughter of Christ. Most of all, let us ask God to mold us into being the ultimate role model for our daughters.

Now, will someone help me be that kind of mother!

Note: There are other things about the article that I question/disagree with, but a blog can only be so long.

The Little Chap who Follows Me!

I found this poem in a magazine “Above Rubies” a while back, saved it, and just came across it again. I love it.

The Little Chap who Follows Me!

A careful man I want to be’

A little fellow follows me.

I do not dare to go astray

For fear he’ll go the self-same way.

I cannont once escape his eyes,

Whate’er he sees me do, he tries.

Like me he says he’s going to be;

The little chap who follows me.

He thinks that I’m so very fine,

Believes in every word of mine.

The base in me he must not see;

The little chap who follows me.

I must remember as I go

Through summer’s sun and winter’s snow,

I’m building for the years to be’

The little chap who follows me.

Author Unknown

I hope the unknown author won’t mind my following liberties.

The Little Sweetie who Follows Me!

A careful woman I want to be;

A little sweetie  follows me.

I do not dare to go astray

For fear she’ll go the self-same way.

I cannot once escape her eyes,

Whate’er she sees me do, she tries.

Like me she says she’s going to be;

The little sweetie who follows me.

She thinks that I’m so very fine,

Believes in every word of mine.

The base in me she must not see;

The little sweetie who follows me.

I must remember as I go

Through summer’s sun and winter’s snow,

I’m building for the years to be;

The little sweetie who follows me.

Moses’ Mother

I don’t like rereading books. Even my favorite book Pride and Prejudice I have only read once. I tried to read it again years later, but I had listened to the audio version and seen multiple movies based on the storyline that the book no longer held wonder and suspense. I already knew what was going to happen. My attitude was, “Yeah, yeah, Lydia runs off with this guy. Yuck. Mr. Darcy’s sisters are mean. Get on with the good stuff.” Unfortunately this happens all too often with me and really good books. Even ones that hold good spiritual wisdom.

I think for some of us this happens with the Bible. We grow up in the church and we hear Bible stories over and over from the time we’re very little. The stories no longer hold a feeling of wonder and suspense. We know Joseph will rise to power when he’s sold as a slave and later thrown in prison. We know David will defeat Goliath and that Daniel will come out of the lion’s den unscathed. We don’t really feel the agony of the Biblical character. We don’t think about their faith and trust in God, or their feelings of despondency because we already know everything will be OK.

I’ve been reading the book The Invisible Hand by R.C. Sproul. The book is about God’s providence. I’m in chapter 4 and in each chapter he’s kind of highlighted a different story and shown how God’s providence has worked through the details. Chapter 4 is about Moses. And it really hit me.

When Moses was born Pharaoh had “commanded all his people, ‘Every son that is born to the Hebrews you shall cast into the Nile, but you shall let every daughter live.’” Because this was commanded to “all his people” I’m assuming that if any Egyptian saw a Hebrew baby boy they had every right to take the child from the mother and toss the little boy into the Nile. Can you imagine? Exodus 2 tells us that Moses’ mother (we don’t know her name) [Correction: Her name is Jochebed, found in Exodus 6:20] hid him for 3 months and that she could do so no longer. I’m thinking that more than likely someone found out about the little Hebrew baby boy and she felt the panic of having someone knock down her door and wrench her baby out of her arms only to have him tossed into the river.

So, she made a basket  (Talk about crafty! I wonder if she was wishing she had better materials), covered it with tar and pitch (Hoping it wouldn’t leak. I mean, could she really assure herself at this point in time of it’s buoyancy or it being leak proof?), and put the little boat in the river. The mother knew that she couldn’t raise her little baby. She didn’t spy Pharaoh’s daughter and purposefully float the baby to her. No, she put the baby in the river, the very place the child was supposed to be cast into the river, thrown to his death. She couldn’t allow it, so she did what she could to extend his life, just a bit longer. I wonder if other mothers were doing the same thing.

Miriam, the baby’s sister stood at a distance “to know what would be done to him.” I wonder if her mother asked her to come with her and follow the basket, or if out of childhood curiosity, sneaked out of the house and followed her mother wondering what her mom was doing with her brother. She saw her mom place the baby in the river and then, as far as we know, continued to watch the basket. For how long, we don’t know.

At this point, Moses’s mother probably went home to mourn the loss of her child. The basket wasn’t to be his salvation, it was only supposed to cushion the sure death that would eventually befall him. Can you imagine, she kissed her baby’s head, placed him in the basket, watching to see that it wouldn’t immediately sink, the tears falling already as she says goodbye to her son. She runs home to mourn in peace, only to have Miriam bursting through the door sometime later. “Mommy, Mommy!” An exhausted, emotionally depleted mother loving her daughter but missing her son, “What child?!” “Mommy, Pharaoh’s daughter found our baby and wants to raise him, but needs a wet nurse. Come quickly! I told her I would bring her a Hebrew wet nurse!”

I’m sure if Moses’ mother did know that Miriam was watching over the basket she was expecting Miriam’s statement to be, “The basket sank, Mama, baby brother is gone.” Or “I followed the river as far as I could. He’s floating safely away.” Instead, she got something that was completely unexpected: More time with her precious baby. She probably never dreamed in a thousand years that Yaweh would bring her baby boy back to her. But according to God’s providence he swirled the river’s rapids to carry the basket down the river, to have Pharaoh’s daughter bathe right as the basket was near by. He softened her heart (Remember, she had every right to find the baby and toss him in the water, no questions asked. Doing that would have been obedient to her father.) God had Miriam close by and gave her the quick wit to offer to get a Hebrew woman for the wet nurse. God provided in a miraculous, unexpected way for Moses’ family.

Here I sit in 2011, friends from church have traveled to Haiti and are building a house and providing much needed food to people in the hospital. Here I sit a week from my car accident while  Japan is trying to survive from their earthquake and avoid the worst of a nuclear melt down. Here I sit wondering what car to drive while people in New Zealand are still wondering where they will live.

The Lord is great. He will provide a vehicle for my family and I believe it will, in the end, be a blessing. But I tend to be near-sighted about things, to be impatient, and want answers now. I am thankful that I still have a standing house. I know the Lord is great and he has a purpose behind the earthquakes in Japan, Haiti, and New Zealand. I can have comfort in the providence of God to bring us all through another day. And I pray for the people of those countries that they will not only be provided with the food and shelter that they so desperately need and seek but that the Lord will also reveal Himself to them and give them the everlasting hope and joy that comes in knowing God and being able to rest in His providence.

As He is in control of the swirl of a river to save Moses from sure death, He is in control of a rumbling ground, and a car accident in Midvale, UT. Thank you Lord for your sure hand.

Education of John

As I was writing this I thought, “Does any one else really care about my thought process in choosing a school for John?” Possibly not. But this blog is mostly for me and family. Second, as I was making my decision I did like knowing other people’s thought process when they were deciding how to educate their child(ren). I should note that Aaron and I talked through everything, but we were pretty much on the same page, so there were no long discussions trying to convince each other of our viewpoints. 

Public School
Aaron and I live in a lower class area. Well, it’s actually some what odd. It’s lower class and right next door is middle class and out of the middle of no where in the neighborhood will be an enormous house. But, the school that he is zoned for has 92% of students receiving free or reduced lunch. It has a population in which 50% of the students move two or more times a year (and since the zones are somewhat small, I’m assuming the majority of the 50% are transient students). Also almost two-thirds of the population is Hispanic. Do I care that John would be a minority? No. But it does impact learning as most students are having to learn English.Midvale Elementary is also a Title One school. That’s not necessarily bad, because Title One is mostly concerned about family incomes and not necessarily test scores (except for showing improvement) but the test scores are pretty low. Finally, Aaron and I got to know a 6th grader who attended the school when we first moved in. He told us on several different occasions about some of the discipline problems and even gang-related problems. And while I’m sure the gangs aren’t that serious, it’s still a point of concern.

On the up-side, the school does offer a dual-immersion program. Basically from K-6th grades John would be taught in both English and Spanish. And by the time he reached Junior high he’d not only be bilingual but bi-literate. That, I have to admit, is an awesome program. However, spaces are limited so we would not be guaranteed a spot in the program. I’m not against public schools in general. Both my husband and I attended public schools and we fared pretty well. However, as we talked about the public school we came to recognize that it’s not a win-win situation for our family. (i.e. John being there isn’t going to benefit the school nor will the school benefit him.) In fact it seems as though it’s a lose-lose situation. So, we will not be sending John to school there. 

Private School
My son currently attends Children’s Christian School. It is a small, very affordable Christian school. We’ve enjoyed our time there and I will more than likely have Lydia attend preschool there as well. There is also another Christian school in the area (however that one is a lot more pricey) as well as Challenger, which is an amazing school academically, from what I hear. Bottom line, we just can’t afford having two, maybe more, kids in private schools. Even if we could, is that the best use of our money? I feel like the money I’m spending on education should go toward their college funds or something. I don’t know. I think we could make it work, but with other options out there, I’d just rather not pay for the kids’ education.

Homeschooling
I honestly love the idea of homeschooling. I really do have a teacher’s heart and I get all excited over the fun things (curriculum, not even field trips) I could do with the kids. Not to mention the freedom it allows in visiting our families that live 2000 miles away. But that’s the thing. I love the idea of homeschooling. My son is very strong willed and I tend to lose my patience quickly. (However, the Lord is continuing to sanctify me in this area.)

There are other issues too, like me being an introverted person and the thought of never having down time freaks me out. And I’m lazy. At this point in time, I don’t have a good enough structure to actually implement homeschooling into our home. I do realize these are excuses and could be worked out. But they’re also the thoughts running through my mind.

Last thought: I’m a high school math teacher, the thought of teaching John how to read gave me the heebie-jeebies… until it became something we just started doing. Like today…

“Let me get the jar of peanut butter.” Me
“Jar.” The sound j makes several times. “Jar starts with j.” John
“That’s right! What about the ahhh sound?” Me
(Etc. until we spell jar.)

I mean, that’s teaching kids reading, people. Teaching letter recognition, and then letter sounds, and then combing those sounds to words and spelling. Why was I so scared of it? Because I’ve never done it before.

So, in the end, I am confident of my ability to home school my kids. I think I could do it, especially since so many families in our church home school and there would be lots of support.

Charter Schools
Finally, charter schools. We have LOTS of charter schools in our Salt Lake Valley and I can think of 14 off the top of my head within a 20 minute drive from my house. So I have some options here. The major problem, however, is that you have to rely on the lottery to get admitted to the school. I researched all the schools and picked about six or seven (although one school had 3 campuses, so 3 lotteries) to apply to. So far we’ve been rejected from three schools. Each of the schools I applied to would be a better school (for us) than our local elementary school. However, I do have a top choice within the charter schools I’ve applied to and we were not chosen in the lottery for it. There is still a chance that John will be able to attend, however. See here.

At this point in time, if we are not chosen in the lottery for any of the other schools we will begin home schooling. However, because of John’s age, we can try for all of the lotteries again next year, or my first choice (between the charter schools) is planning on opening a 4th campus around the corner from my house and we could put him in the lottery for first grade there as well.

(Note: There’s about a 50% chance of getting picked in a lottery for Kindergarten. There’s a seemingly 1% chance for other grades, do to sibling and employee priority enrollment. These are VERY loose numbers, however, it’s about what I’ve encountered.)

Final Note
If you know me, you know that I am a Christian. And you may have noted that Christ-centered teaching didn’t enter into my decision making process (at least much). The reason for this is because I feel like the Bible gives me, the parent, the responsibility to raise my child in such a way that he will glorify God and enjoy him forever. It does not give specifics on HOW to educate your child, but that you should. Afterall, the reason a lot of schools were started was so that all children could learn to read… the Bible. Regardless, I feel like a good education is very important. And no matter where John attends school his religious education is MY responsibility. I definitely think I would slack off in that area if he attended a Christian school. However, if he’s home schooled or out in the public sphere, I want to be the one training him and teaching him the ins and outs of what our family’s religious beliefs are. I want to be one to help shape his interactions and decisions as he begins to manuever the world.