What about the schools?

One of the most critical considerations for anyone moving with a family from one community to another is the quality of the schools. Dunwoody is blessed with great schools that thrive in spite of lackluster central office leadership, strangled budgets, self-protective personnel policies, and education pedagogy that change with the whims of state and county administrations. 

All those woes are well documented in DeKalb County School Watch, a blog that serves as watchdog and gadfly for our local system.  If you're a parent, you should read it. Knowledge is power.

For awhile, there was a grassroots effort underway to consider turning Dunwoody High School and all its feeder schools into a single Charter Cluster. I don't know if the steam has run out of that effort, if the folks engaged in the foundational work have turned to other issues, or where things stand today, but I hope the concept finds new energy in the near future.  Fulton County Schools are considering charter status, one of many school systems and clusters willing to tackle the massive documentation, research, and development work required to satisfy the state's evolving requirements.

DeKalb Schools has a new superintendent. Maybe she's a rainmaker and something good will finally come out of that dysfunctional nexus. We have an outstanding School Board representative in Nancy Jester, who is often the lone voice of pragmatism in a group of people who seem to add to our problems rather than solve them. Georgia is requesting a waiver from the illogical No Child Left Behind paradigm and trying on yet another measurement tool that ignores the realities of student capabilities and inconsistent parent support. Our state level elected representatives would have to change state regulations and budget limitations that prevent Dunwoody from having greater control over our schools. There are lots of obstacles (costs are #1) to having our own school system. But there are many, many positives to having our cluster go charter.

By the time the education juggernaut changes direction, my kids will likely no longer be in Dunwoody's public schools. But I'll still be a taxpayer, homeowner, and passionate booster of this community.

Schools are relevant now and for the future.

Stakeholders

Much debate is raging within the Dunwoody High School community about schedules. At issue: block scheduling, where students take 4 classes each semester, just as in college. Some students thrive with the pace and intensity. Many do not. Some teachers utilize the expanded classroom time skillfully and productively. Many do not.

The discussion is heated, emotional, and sometimes surreal as parents deploy logic, careful respect, ballistic jolts of emotional diatribe, earnest pleas for or against a particular option, and multitudes of emails, telephone calls, and carpool chats.

Why not? Our children are the victims or beneficiaries of the decisions adults make on their behalf.

One of the more interesting discussion points has been that students are the primary stakeholders in the school. Comparing public education to a business model, proponents posit that the most important customer of the "product" is the student.

I disagree.

Any business who focuses its energies on one segment of its customer base - and one that provides no funding or time and talent for the venture - is not going to succeed.

The primary stakeholder in public education is, at the broadest level, the taxpayer. If a school can't convince taxpayers to provide basic funding as well as SPLOST and other special tax supports, then it will not thrive. The community must have trust in management and substantive belief in the quality of the end product - educational excellence.  If schools do their job right, students get to go to college or have the skills for a job straight out of high school, and function capably in day to day life.

Just as a nonprofit has to demonstrate fiscal soundness and success in mission to attract donors, a school must demonstrate measurable achievement in its educational mission as well as those all-important intangibles: parent, teacher, and student satisfaction and happiness.

Dunwoody schools are blessed by a high degree of parent involvement, a factor that research proves over and over again is the critical link in a school's ability to stay on mission and meet expectations. By and large, students do very well in Dunwoody. That fact has caused polarization within the county as the achievement gap grows from district to district. My focus is on my kids' schools. But I'm very much aware of the larger issues winnowing through the hierarchy of Board and administration oversight.

My student is not the primary stakeholder in his school.

I am.

You gotta love August?

One of my favorite comic strips has been running a series of vignettes called "You gotta love August": flashlight tag, dozing on a hammock, stargazing, catching fireflies, lolling in the hot weather, cooking outdoors . . . obviously, the family lives someplace outside surreal Georgia, where school starts after Labor Day and August is vacation time. Friends in Virginia always shake their heads when I moan that we have to go back to school mid-August. Their post-Labor Day school start moves fluidly toward a mid-June ending, and their public schools (urban, diverse) regularly hit the high notes on national scores, which seems to be all anyone cares about these days. The only good thing about a late May start to summer break is that the crowds at the beach and Disney World are much smaller. Apparently, much of the country is still in school.

Education leaders in Georgia are holding desperately onto the premise that having a semester end before Christmas is better for test scores. Problem is, test scores aren't supporting that premise. New programs roll out like clockwork (new math! higher benchmarks for reading! No ITBS in 8th grade! block schedule! no homework! no F's!) but the underlying weaknesses in education management have far greater impact on student performance than anything else.

I'm in the thick of the battle for student performance, and have been since we enrolled our children in Austin Elementary School many years ago. We've often joked (a bit smugly) that the schools in Dunwoody are the best private education for the dollar because the quality of teaching and the keen participation of parents have nurtured a very high quality of educational experiences. That's still true today, as we move through middle and high school. Thank goodness for the highly skilled, creative teachers who populate our schools. Way to go, parents who help create and manage quality-of-life programs for students and faculty (PCMS Academic Teams Boosters and DHS Arts Alliance are two of the latest initiatives). Hurray to school leaders who figure out ways to serve the students within the chokehold of bureaucracy and federal testing mandates.

It's a parental prerogative to insist that our children be treated with kindness and understanding. But we know, as adults, that life isn't that nurturing. College professors and future employers aren't going to coddle our kids or cater to their every angst. As pragmatic parents deal with public school challenges, they teach their kids how to get what they need out of imperfect systems. There's always going to be a teacher or boss or rush chair or judge who really, really shouldn't be in a position of authority. Oh, well. Work through it, put it behind you, and move on.

You gotta love August.

Speed traps

A guy wrote a letter to the local newspaper complaining about a speed trap near an elementary school. Three things wrong with his protest: the speed limit is the same it has always been, it doesn't change for the entire length of the road, and if you aren't speeding, no problem. Fact is, speeders have been a chronic irritant in front of Austin Elementary School; not too long ago, in Lithonia, a mom on a cell phone struck and killed a child in a crosswalk WITH A CROSSING GUARD IN THE MIDDLE. So I really can't empathize with Mr. "Don't Give Me A Ticket Just Because I'm Speeding In Front Of A School."

Speed is an inherent part of the American culture. We want to get to school, career, wealth, kids, retirement faster and earlier. Slow and steady are for plodders. The early bird gets the worm. Problem is, with everyone trying to get there faster, no one wins. I like what a fellow blogger (Hi, Pattie) said about driving the speed limit on North Peachtree Road (another speeders' delight). As more cars fell behind her, she found herself leading a longer line of otherwise-speeding drivers - happily, since she was doing her "small part" to slow everyone down.

I do it. I've been late to an appointment, en route to the emergency room, rushing from carpool line to music lesson and pushed it just a bit too much. But I've been consciously working on planning ahead and driving steadily. You'd think that would cause more stress. The contrary is true. I'm feeling much more relaxed and in control. Amazing.

Of course, since I'm a knitter, I also think about speed knitting. There are people who knit lightning-fast (I'm not one of them), their hands and fingers a blur of dexterity and focus. They often perform this feat without looking at their work.

Part of the pleasure of knitting is the process, the leisurely art of working with cashmere and silk, wool and cotton and sharing it with kindred spirits. So is there a place for speed in this craft?

I asked one of these speed-divas, "do you make a lot of mistakes doing that?" Nope. The knitting was wonderfully consistent in gauge, with nary a dropped stitch in sight. So I watched her technique and realized that the whole tossing versus throwing yarn was at the root of her fast Knits Per Minute. (Want to see what it looked like? Check out the "World's Fastest Knitter"

The continental knitting technique has definitely increased my speed, though I'm having to adjust some tension and gauge issues (much looser). It has also improved tension in my hands and reduced finger cramping. So while I really don't care about increasing knitting speed dramatically, it is nice to have an alternate method to give my muscles a rest.

K2tog

Since A was born in 1992, then AG in 1997,  my van has been a traveling advertisement for our family's activities and loyalties:

• Carpool numbers for Dunwoody Methodist Preschool and the Heiskell School (a thankfully short-lived private school experience for A)
• Austin Elementary School
  
• Peachtree Charter Middle School
  
• Dunwoody High School
• St. Luke's Presbyterian Church
  
• NC State Alumni (my Wake Forest grad husband just looks the other way on that one)
  
• Murphy Candler Girls' Fastpitch Softball League
• City of Dunwoody
• Campaign stickers for friends running for City Council and Board of Commissioners when we were living in Greensboro, NC
• and others I can't even remember right now.

Urbanites may wince at the suburban ethos of my van. But it's me . . . the Donna Reed of the new millenium. 

This week, I added something "all me" to the back of the van, joining the collage of PCMS, DHS, and St. Luke's identifiers.

K2tog.

A noticed it while we were shopping yesterday for cotillion shoes. "K two tog? What the heck is that?" My observant daughter, who often reads this blog, said scornfully, "Knit two together. It's knitting."  "Huh," said A. And promptly lost interest.

My new magnet says everything about my need to bring together the people and interests in my life. I love my family, so it's important to me to connect their outside and at-home lives. I love my church, so it's satisfying to join with other seekers of faith. I love to knit, so it's fulfilling to unite my pleasure in the craft with my need to serve others through outreach and a shared enjoyment in working with our hands.

Every day, in every way possible, I knit together the myriad strands of my life.

K2tog. That really does say it all.

Hey knitter knitter, hey knitter knitter, PURL!

AG's softball team is in the playoffs and they've advanced to the championship game tonight. This 8U team is fun to watch - a bunch of cute girls with flyaway hair, big grins, and knobby knees all bouncing Tigger-like around the field makes for an enjoyable season. The parents have been sympatico as well - no overachiever parents screaming at their daughters to SWING! CATCH IT! AW, COME ON! We've enjoyed our daughters and valued their time on the field and in the dugout. Thanks, Coach McKnight!

(We watched the 12U championship game before we played. Way more serious. Much less about having fun and more about the rules of the game. Lots of loud debates between parents and officials. AG isn't sure that's going to be a good thing when she moves up next year. I'm not, either, but then I'm not that competitive about sports. If, however, there was a playoff among knitters, I'd likely be the one contesting any call against my particular method of long-tail cast-on or the option of ripping out what I just bungled. So I guess I should just live and let live with those very heated folks on the sidelines!)

Tonight is also AG's "graduation" from 5th Grade at Austin Elementary School. (It's the Knitternall family's 9th year at Austin - as she moves on to Peachtree Charter Middle School, I'm leaving Austin with happy memories and gratitude.) She'll march with her classmates in the Dunwoody United Methodist Church Fellowship Hall, deliver the closing address, then run with me to the car for a quick change en route to Murphy Candler Park. The guys will follow as soon as T drops off A at home to continue studying for tomorrow's Geography and Latin finals at DHS.

Hoo, boy.

It's a big night in the Knitternall family.

Walk a mile (or three) in my chic flip-flops

Last night, as the kids were showering, we heard a loud "BOOM!" and the house shook. It felt like a tree hit the house. I ran outside, walked all around the house and found . . . nothing. I called the neighbors to see if they'd heard it. Nope. I checked the basement, attic, every room in the house to see if something fell. Nada.

This morning, AG and I headed out for school. I hit the garage door opening and there was a CLUNK.

Eureka. The massive spring thingy that lifts and lowers the door had a catastrophic failure and snapped last night. The garage door was sealed shut thanks to the dead weight without the spring.

• T's in New York on business.
• AG is in her finest 1970's togs for today's Decades Project and dance.
• AG and A have to be at their SEPARATE schools by 8.
• And I have a full workload at the Nature Center.

Well, this is fun.

So I march-stepped AG to Austin on foot, turned around and called a neighbor to get A to Dunwoody High at the same time. I called the ever-wonderful Dunwoody Door to come fix the garage (Mr. DD said he'd be at the house by 11, hurray!). I walked to work via one of the social trails connecting Wyntercreek to the park, then walked back in time to meet Mr. DD.

This entire time, traversing 3+ miles, I was wearing my favorite hand-dyed linen skirt and flippy flops. Because I was dressed. I looked good. And I didn't want to change.

(The photo to the right is of our wetlands boardwalk, the only "paved" trail in the park. I was flippy-flopping on MULCHED, rooty, terraced trails.)

Yeah, I'm crazy.

The best part of the day

I've always loved the early morning. I know I should sleep in, considering all the rush of the week. But I'm awake anyway, long before 7, so I head downstairs.

It's quiet. The kids are asleep, T's at church for a training session for the newly elected officers, and I have at least a couple of hours to indulge in . . . whatever. Peanut butter toast and tea, a slow reading of the newspaper, a visit to Ravelry and the blog to see what's happening, and a bit of tidying. I love the glint of sunlight blinking through the front windows and the dance of leaves in the back woods. Best of all, I'm enjoying the absence of "have-to" at this very moment.

That'll change before long. We have softball playoffs at Murphy Candler Park, a costume to put together for A's Decades project, and supplies to pick up for a knitting lesson I'm giving to a mom hospitalized with pre-term labor. I'm happy to get her started. If I'd had knitting when I was in the hospital for the same thing 15 years ago, it would have made the time pass much more peacefully.

If I let myself think about the coming week too much, I'll get wound up. So I'm going to turn on NPR, tidy some more, and enjoy the peace.

Just when you think you've seen everything knitted . . .

Click http://sternlab.org/index.php?project=BodyTechnologyInterfaces. TangleGirl sent me this link and it's proof that some knitters have way too much time to play with yarn. Absolutely hysterical.

It's been a busy week in my corner of the universe.

• The DeKalb County School System decided to turn a planned elementary school into a 4th and 5th grade academy - maybe good in the long run, but horrible in the short run as the schools turn into trailered parking lots. This just delays construction, allows even more multi-family housing to flood Austin Elementary School, and turns us all into ping-pong balls.
• The City of Dunwoody iniative is rolling towards voting day July 15.
• The new girls' softball fields at Murphy Candler are tantalizingly close to completion, except for grass. We're watching it grow. It has to be green before the girls can play on it. Funny thing is that we've never had grass to play on, so the girls think a grassy outfield is a novelty.
• I've begun marketing seminars to preschool directors so I can teach their teachers how to teach Preschool Phonics to preschoolers. Try to say that out loud without stammering.
• I just finished registration for next fall's Preschool Phonics classes. All the spots were filled in 24 hours.
• I have several private knitting lessons scheduled in the next week or so.

Hmmm . . .

Somewhere in all that overachievement, I finished all the pieces of the White Hot Cardigan and have cast on a lacy edge treatment for the bottom. I don't like the rolled edge of the stockinette field, so I'm laying it down with edging. I'll let the sleeves roll - that looks fine. I'd like to wear it this weekend, so I'm on a mission. AG has softball practice Friday evening and a game Saturday, so I'm sure I'll be sewing together all the pieces by Saturday afternoon.