Dear Teachers: Where Does The Road to College Start?
Dear Teachers,
Now that we have two full weeks of school under our belts, I thought I might crack the venetian blinds to our life with five kids, and give you a little peek inside of my philosophy about school.
I do not pack snacks. We have a generous supply of pretzels, fruit, nut-free granola bars, and pre-washed carrots available at all times. If a Cariello boy or girl comes to school without a snack, it’s because they forgot to pack it themselves.
My advice? Do not feed them from your stash. They are like adorable stray kittens—all wide eyes and pink tongues—and they will live off your emergency supply of animal crackers for the entire year if you let them have so much as a crumb.
I believe strongly in something called natural consequences.
My kids also buy hot lunch. Every day. Yes, I know, I know—the calories, the salt! Pancakes at noon, and nachos on Thursday!
Listen, I just don’t care. For the most part we have nice, nutritious meals for both breakfast and dinner, and if one them would like to pack a sandwich and some fruit, we have five lunch boxes monogrammed with their initials and lots of healthy food. We have water bottles and Ziplock bags and plenty of yogurts. The only thing we don’t have are Bento boxes, mostly because I don’t really know what they are.
I only check homework to see if it’s completed and whether it’s legible. I do not check answers. I do not sit at my kitchen counter and attempt to explain alphabetical order or Cuisinare rods or how many apples Pierre has left if he ate one and gave four away to his friend Billy but grew six more on a tree even though its obvious from Pierre’s name he probably lives in France and I’m not sure they even have apple orchards there.
As I like to remind my children, I already did seventh, sixth, fifth, fourth, third, and first grade. In fact, I did all the grades. And I did quite well! You might say I passed with flying colors.
(I think I was in 7th grade when I first held hands with a boy. His name was Jamie Pilks, or something like that. He was shorter than me—a lot shorter—and his hand felt small and clammy clasped with mine.)
I do not help with projects. This may mean my child’s macaroni art project will hang right alongside a girl whose mother majored in macaroni art in college and so it will be perfectly crafted in Samuel L. Jackson’s likeness even though the assignment just asked for it to look like a bird.
I’m fine with that. The way I see it, it is their turn. It’s their turn to dream, and to fail, and to try, and to work. It’s their turn to macaroni.
I do not sign things in the morning. If they don’t show me the reading log or the permission slip or by 7:00 the night before, well, the part where it asks for the parent signature is going to be blank.
Family traditions will always come before sports.
I do not run back to school for anything that was left behind. They need to bring their crap home. This includes their glasses, their textbooks, their worksheets, and the special pencil with the minion eraser on top.
I don’t care if they make the honor roll.
I don’t care if they’re in accelerated math.
I don’t care if they captain a team, or run the student council, or wear a crown for homecoming.
Sure, I’ll be so proud if they do any of these that I’ll just about burst. I’ll take a thousand pictures and tell everyone I know and go to all the games. Yet in the long run it’s not incredibly important to me. This is the truth.
I care if they stand up to a bully.
I care if they introduce themselves to the new kid.
I care if one day, after they collect their pancake-and-nacho hot lunch, they notice a boy sitting all by himself. And they pass by the table where they usually sit, and slide their tray next to his.
I don’t drive anyone to school. Conveniently, there is a bus that arrives at the corner the same time every day, Monday through Friday, and if one of them misses this bus, there’s a good chance they won’t be in school that day. They’ll be at home with me catching up on important things like silent reading and cleaning the toilets.
I know it sounds mean. I know I ask a lot of them, but I promise you there are good reasons.
Sure, it helps me stay organized when we have five kids in three different schools; five kids in a complicated combination of karate, football, cross-country, track, Girl Scouts, and dance.
But it’s more than that. From the time they’re about eleven years old, most kids will essentially carry a computer in their backpack or in their hands. At any given moment, they can Google the value of Pi and how to say pelican in Spanish.
(It’s el pelicano, by the way. I just Googled it.)
They can ask Siri for directions rather than read a map, and use a calculator to figure out Pierre’s apple situation.
In this technological age, I would rather teach them the things Siri and Google can’t; how to be resourceful, and responsible, and kind.
And yet, it’s even more than that. Let me crack the blinds open just a tiny bit more, so you can take a closer look.
As many of you know, we have a special guy, Jack. He’s eleven. He’s in sixth grade, and he has autism.
The first time I heard the doctor tell me Jack’s diagnosis, there was an almost a deafening silence all around me, if silence can be deafening. It was as though tall, white-capped waves started crashing down, and the water was filling my ears.
And those waves, well, they changed our landscape forever. They pounded it into flat nothingness, and erased all of the peaks and valleys; the summits of play dates and track meets and college, and all the ordinary, normal puddles the ebbing tide leaves behind.
We had to start from the beginning. We had to build again, and resurrect our own sand castles from the damp, sandy earth. We had to–and still have to–consider what Jack really needs to know in order to make a life for himself, a life that is as independent and fulfilling and normal as it can possibly be.
And although he could care less about having friends over to play or running for the cross-country team, Jack wants to go to college. He talks about it a lot. Mostly he wonders if his college will have a water slide and whether or not it will be close enough for him to walk to a Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch and come home on the weekends to check on Wolfie, but in his mind it is a place he is headed.
I don’t know if he’ll ever go. I really don’t. It will be a long, arduous road for him and for us, but I will do everything I can think of to steer him there.
This means I have to be harder. I have to insist on the little things, in order to hope for the big things. I have to believe—every single day, I believe—that the road to college does not start with accelerated math, or the honor roll, or a varsity letter.
I believe it starts with eating what everyone else eats in the noisy cafeteria, remembering to bring your blue folder home at night, and the philosophy that family always comes first. It starts with determination, and strength, and organization.
When I hear Jack talk about college, my heart squeezes tight like a fist. Sometimes, I have to look over his shoulder or down at the floor so he won’t see my face.
And when I look away, I make myself remember the rushing sensation of water in my ears the first time I heard the word autism in connection with my son. I make myself remember his progress and his dreams; where we started and where we are hopefully going.
Mostly, I make myself remember that even the tallest castles towering in the sky begin with just a few tiny grains of sand.
September 14, 2015 @ 1:11 pm
Check out the Launch Program through Life Styles at the University of Arkansas. http://www.lifestylesinc.org/site/?page_id=131 There are good options out there, not perfect, but enough to where college can become a reality. My brother just started the program last month.
September 14, 2015 @ 1:15 pm
Carrie, I’m in tears again. Beautifully written. Thank you.
September 14, 2015 @ 1:31 pm
Tis goot one. Stacey From: Carrie Cariello To: smmwellington@yahoo.com Sent: Monday, September 14, 2015 12:19 PM Subject: [New post] Dear Teachers: Where Does The Road to College Start? #yiv5433432117 a:hover {color:red;}#yiv5433432117 a {text-decoration:none;color:#0088cc;}#yiv5433432117 a.yiv5433432117primaryactionlink:link, #yiv5433432117 a.yiv5433432117primaryactionlink:visited {background-color:#2585B2;color:#fff;}#yiv5433432117 a.yiv5433432117primaryactionlink:hover, #yiv5433432117 a.yiv5433432117primaryactionlink:active {background-color:#11729E;color:#fff;}#yiv5433432117 WordPress.com | Carrie Cariello posted: “Dear Teachers,Now that we have two full weeks of school under our belts, I thought I might crack the venetian blinds to our life with five kids, and give you a little peek inside of my philosophy about school.I do not pack snacks. We have a genero” | |
September 14, 2015 @ 2:49 pm
*I LOVED THIS POST.*
September 14, 2015 @ 3:35 pm
Carrie, As a teacher and parent myself, I applaud you! I wish more parents took this approach to education. Thanks for sharing glimpses into your life each week!
September 14, 2015 @ 6:19 pm
You are such an amazing Mom, fostering their independence like a good Momma should. Many could take a lesson.
September 14, 2015 @ 9:45 pm
Another inspiring reading of which I just can’t thank you enough…..you always seem to capture these entries on days I have experienced a horrifically challenging day, when I am so down on myself for yelling at Adrian, telling him he’s annoying….his challenges are ever changing…..I need to read this, at this very moment….thank you
September 15, 2015 @ 12:27 am
Carrie, you have “aced” good parenting – and then some!!! And as for Jack, I truly believe that Jack will be able to do whatever he decides to do!! I just feel it in my bones that he has his moccasins on the right path. His journey may be different, but he already has a direction – and in my experience, that’s more than half the battle won already.
September 15, 2015 @ 3:26 am
Reblogged this on oshriradhekrishnabole.
September 15, 2015 @ 11:11 am
My grandson is a junior in high school and all ready had to drop a class in accounting. They will have him work in the Library instead He tried very hard to follow in the Accounting class but could not progress and it is only Sept. My daughter like yourself spends so much time trying to figure out just what he is going to do after High School. He also wants to go to college. He likes to draw but only what he likes which is cartoon characters. Where to start to search is her question? Thank you once again for all your input, it helps.
Janet
September 15, 2015 @ 3:05 pm
Fantastic! You are such a wonderful, caring, and loving family! Your parenting skills are dynamic! Thank you for sharing!! ps. I LOVE having Henry in my class!
September 16, 2015 @ 7:41 am
I like your attitude towards school and life in general. I feel the same way but always felt like a neglectful parent. And that photo of Jack, he twinkles. You can see his soul shining.
September 19, 2015 @ 10:26 am
I can see why this post was shared in the school newsletter and why it meant so much to you to see it there! Making oneself understood within the communities where we have regular face to face contact, is sometimes more difficult than writing for a wider audience, but is much more satisfying. That is what gives rise to the proverb that a “prophet is without honor in his own country”.
Congratulations on a clear, concise statement of your very sane values and principles. I know that even when so clearly articulated, one can quickly feel besieged by multiple and conflicting expectations and demands.
(Kudos to the Principal who shared it, too! What a great way to prompt discussion of wider educational goals.)
September 19, 2015 @ 7:12 pm
I read all of your posts. You are an amazing writer. As a retired teacher, I totally understand today’s post. Bravo for always speaking your truth no matter what. I agree that ‘life’ is more important than any accolade. You are so right!
P.S. It’s Matt’s Aunt that he lived with
September 29, 2015 @ 8:15 am
Hi Carrie. I love your posts and I wish I had known yoy when my kids were smaller and having me pack their snack and bring their forgotten homework to school and driving them the days they missed the bus. I love how you already know that accelerated math and varsity letters are not what is important. My kids would have appreciated me knowing that but it took me until the first one graduated to get it. Anyway I wanted to tell you UNH has a program for our guys to be able to attend college. I’m not sure how it works as I haven’t looked into it yet even though I probably should get on it. There is hope for our boys to get to college on their own terms as I am sure you are aware. Thank you for your weekly posts and for keeping it real.
Sharon
September 30, 2015 @ 12:30 pm
Carrie, I have an autistic son, John. He is now in college. Persevere and It will happen. My son may take a little bit longer to finish college, but I accept it. It is not the length of time but the ambition that drives him. He is majoring in Spanish and is taking other languages. He started out thinking that he wanted to do architecture, but changed his mind and changed majors. He is now in his Sophomore/Junior year in College. I am so proud of him. He has Spanish under his belt. (He took the equivalent of 4 years of college Spanish) Now he is working on French. He has almost 2 years of that. He has some problems in some of the other classes, which is taking him longer to do, but he is doing it. He is also actively seeking employment to supplement his college and home expenses. He and his older sister live in an apartment. He has gotten out on his own and is doing great. He came to me the other day and said that he may have to extend his college out and asked if that was okay. I told him that it was. He wanted to graduate sooner, but if that does not happen, well it does not happen. That is how I see it. When my kids were younger, I did like you did. I let them do their stuff by themselves. Let them succeed or fail. And when they were in the younger classes they struggled. In high school and college, they are succeeding. My son actually graduated from high school with a technical honor. And for an autistic child, that is an accomplishment! He turns 20 today. (Sept. 30th is his birthday.) And I am so proud of what he has accomplished. What he has done. So if my son can do it, yours can too! Don’t let anyone discourage him. He will make it! I have an autistic son that has proven it! Oh, and did I mention that he is also an Eagle Scout with all 3 palms? Yes, he did that too! He wanted to do that and he accomplished it. So I know without a shadow of a doubt that your son Jack will make it. And if you need to show him that others have done it, just read this. Oh, and my son’s favorite restaurant was Taco Bell. And there is one right outside of his campus. To top it off, he does not even go there for lunch because he says that he would rather take his lunch to college. He also takes the bus and he drives. But he rather take the bus to college. It is the regular bus that he takes. He gets his quarters out to ride the bus. He said that the bus going to college is better than the yellow buses that go to the middle or high school. They have better seats. So you can tell your son that also. My son would want to tell him that. Encouragement is the way to go. Give hugs when they think they have failed and tell them to go try it again. (My son failed a few classes, but has retaken them and gotten A’s and B’s in them.) It is a great thing that Jack wants to go to college. I believe that he will if he just keeps on keeping on. My son is in college and if you need more encouragement, I would be glad to talk to you about it. Coming from a Autistic College Student Eagle Scout mom. And if I repeated myself, I am sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I am proud of my son. And his accomplishments and wanted to share my experience with you. Good luck to your children, all of them. Oh, and my daughter is in college as well. She is going to start med school next year. I cannot believe it. She isn’t autistic, but she loves her brother.