Three years ago, I posted Wordless Wednesday of a picture painted by Eldest when he was in the fourth grade. I look at the painting, and it makes me weep.
He is a shy boy, my first-born son. Sweet, too, he is. Smart, really. An excellent writer. Really good at Call of Duty or any violent Xbox 360 game, too.
First and foremost, he is excruciatingly shy. I ache about that shyness of his. He wasn't always that way. The first five, six years of his life, he was the toast of the town, wearing his superhero clothes and disguises everywhere he went, standing proud when little kids mistook him for the real Superman, chatting up a storm with anyone. Then, one day, a switch clicked in him and he stopped putting himself out there.
Don't think I haven't tried to find the trigger. Don't think I haven't tried to cajole and encourage and support any effort to put himself out there.
He is who he is.
Eventually, we accept what needs to be accepted. I accepted his shyness long ago. I am at peace with it. I'm enjoying Holland, as it were.
His best friend called last night. His last day at the same middle school as Eldest is tomorrow. He wanted to call and tell Eldest that.
He's transferring to another middle school in town, another rich white kid using the f%cked-up No Child Left Behind Act to go to a "better" school. It's a school without the angst of poor people or people of color or the children of illegal immigrants or illegal immigrants themselves. [They are illegal, but you can call them "undocumented" if that makes you feel better. You know what I call an undocumented pharmacist? A drug dealer.]
I am sad beyond belief. And I am angry. I am not angry that they are jumping ship. I will not tell you how to parent your child. You don't tell me how to parent mine.
What makes me angry is that I specifically asked his mom about this situation several weeks ago. She assured me he wasn't going anywhere. The paperwork to transfer had to be put in by December 28. Anyone who requested a transfer would be granted one, using the f%cked-up NCLB rules. This means she has known through Christmas and New Year's, through sleepovers and movies, through hanging out and chatting it up. She has known and never said a word.
So allow me a bit of outrage. I am who I am, after all.
[Edited to add: My outrage is mitigated by the fact that they appear to have NOT filed the paperwork. They had been on the waiting list since September 2008. The middle school apparently approached them. So I was wrong in feeling misled. I am a bad person.]