Being a Five Year Old

“Play is the highest form of research”

--Albert Einstein

 Now that we have plodded through a couple of phases of COVID re-openings, fifty-seven days of June, and a dozen or so senior parades, and socially distant graduations, it’s a proper summer.  Family corn hole games on the lawn, beach buckets, and BBQs are back again. As the pandemic progresses, every week brings some new item that's in short supply and high demand. Toilet paper, jigsaw puzzles, home gym equipment and so much else. Right now, kiddy pools are sold out almost everywhere. At my house, the TP is all stocked up, puzzles are lined up for the next bunch of rainy days, and I find myself turning to toys. Little kid toys. It’s like I’m five years old again.

Mr. Potato Head, Play-Doh, and Matchbox cars have all made an appearance in the last few weeks. The other night, when two friends came over for some backyard distantly social snacks, we pulled out craft kits and made plastic mermaid sun catchers, with stained glass gel paints.

Perhaps one good thing that could come from this pandemic is the return to the fun parts of our younger years. When my high school senior lost her last season of track, her senior awards night, her prom, and her job, refuge was found in coloring books and board games. Most people I know with Class of 2020 kids have said that watching them lose so many milestones, brought back their own memories of sweating it out on a football field in a polyester cap and gown, staying out until dawn on prom night, and having that last team dinner. I got to experience all of those events, but my daughter didn’t, and that is a real loss. When I graduated, the world was my oyster. I had college to look forward to, new people, travel, and so much more. I was going places. The Class of 2020? Quarantine and Zoom classes. Face masks and empty classrooms. Canceled plans and almost constant worry that their world will never be the same.  Is it any wonder that turning to the playthings of childhood would be a comfort?

Playtime doesn’t keep anyone safe, it usually doesn’t bring in a paycheck, but sometimes you just have to head for the toy box. Think about it. If you’re five years old, and the world isn’t teetering on its axis, one chest x-ray away from a corona-pocalypse, what makes you happy? Toys and food, most likely. Scraped a knee? Have a Freeze Pop. Having a bad day? Go play dollies and racecars. I’m way older than five, and confession time: I built a pug out of Legos this week and spent a few happy hours playing with Silly Sand. Also, they still make Super Elastic Bubble Plastic, in the tubes with the little straws. It still burns your lungs out, and it’s still wicked fun.

When my kids were little, I was the terrible mother that hated crafts. I never wanted to do activities with a whole bunch of little pieces that needed to be assembled. Paper chains, pipe cleaner caterpillars, and paint by number kits were all necessary evils, stashed away for snow days. When there was a five-year-old at my kitchen table, it was about fighting off the spread of glitter glue and crushed Oreos. These days it’s all about fighting off dread, fear, an invisible and insidious virus, a few creditors, and an Internet full of lies, damn lies, and statistics that I should shut off, but never quite manage to do. Maybe there is something to be said for putting away the adult worries, the job hunting, the Netflix binges, and sitting down to play with something.

Then I found it, this week’s little bit of happy fun time. I was in Marshall’s, a place I hadn’t been since February. Finally, I could return the blouse that didn’t go with the jeans that are now a wee bit too tight. On a clearance shelf was a tiny plastic space ship, a small bit of fake grass, and a magnetic cow. When you press on the little alien inside the UFO, the lights blink, the toy whistles, and then you wave it over the cow until the magnet activates and sucks Elsie right up. It even lets out a long “Mooooo” as she is whisked off to outer space. Does it get any better than that? I giggled like, well, a five-year-old with a fresh tube of glitter glue.

I have no answers about COVID-19. I cannot solve the racial issues that are everywhere, and just as illness-inducing as the virus. I can’t holler anymore at the news on TV; I’m going to barf up a vocal cord. What I can do, however, is take the time to pick up a stupid toy now and then and do some serious playing around. It won’t solve any of the big issues, but it will provide a few light moments. We all need more of those. Stay safe and play nice, OK?

The Value of Education

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.”

— ― Nelson Mandela

While it’s not normally accurate to say everybody agrees with or wants one particular thing, I can’t imagine anyone who would disagree with the value of an education. No one who has children wants them to have anything but the best possible education and even those who don’t have kids want it for themselves and their community. Where would any of us be without an educational system?

The problem becomes in finding agreement on what makes an education good. Is it state of the art equipment in our schools? High tech smart boards and iPads? Well, those things are nice, and there’s no question that they are an improvement over dusty chalkboards and a backbreaking load of books. They are just a tool though, they are not the substantive part of an education.

What about staff? For me it’s about who is standing next to the smart board. The right teacher can give a kid the world. My middle boy will graduate from high school next year. If you include the two years my oldest spent in the public integrated pre-school, I will have had at least one child in the school system here for 23 solid years. In those years, there have been maybe a half a dozen teachers and a few staff members who have been outstanding, who literally reached my children in a profound way. The rest were good too, for the most part. Like any family, we experienced a few that were sub par as well. That happens anywhere, but even they taught my kids something.

So you have staff and you have facilities and equipment, then there is curriculum, probably the most debated part of public education. Honors classes, AP classes, Everyday Math, Addison Wesley Math, Mass Frameworks, MCAS and so much more. It matters a lot but there’s a huge part of educating kids that’s being overlooked: vocational education.

If you were anywhere near my house last Monday around noon, you may have heard a little screaming. That’s because we received a letter in the mail saying that my daughter had been accepted to Essex Tech, a vocational school. We are calling it our “Golden Ticket.” It’s not that I don’t like the schools here in town; it’s that they don’t have what my daughter wants and needs and she’s not the only kid in that situation. Essex Tech accepts 360 kids in the Freshman class each year. They get hundreds and hundreds of applications for those seats. The facilities are brand new, the equipment is state of the art and the staff members I’ve met seem highly qualified and dedicated. My friends and family are so happy for Devin, but there’s been another reaction and it’s not pretty.

One person said to me, “Why would you let her go there? She’s not troubled, she’s not a behavior problem, don’t you want her to go to college instead of doing hair?” Actually, Devin might “do hair” and go to college too. Or she might go to nursing school, or open a salon, or work in graphic arts. She’s not sure yet, she’s only fourteen, but for her Essex is a phenomenal opportunity and one I think a lot of people don’t understand.

The kids there work hard. They take a full class load, just like any high school, and they also take a full load of classes in a chosen trade. They participate in varsity sports, they take honors and AP, and they go to college too. It’s not juvie, it’s not full of behavior kids or kids who can’t “hack it” in traditional high schools. Think about the person who cuts your hair, or builds your deck or fixes your leaky sink. Do you look at them as something less than your lawyer or your banker? Why? Would you say to any of them “Were you a behavior problem? How come you didn’t go to regular school? Did you get in trouble and get sent there?”

Not if you have any brains you wouldn’t. Throughout the process of Devin applying to Essex, got asked a lot of very pointed questions about why I’d let her go to “beauty school” and miss out on going to college. A lot of patronizing looks, sighs and “Oh. Well...not everyone is into academics.” These were not people I give a rat’s bum about so it doesn’t matter, but one thing does. More of this kind of education is needed, because while we were literally jumping for joy at our house, some kids were not. The waiting list for Essex has hundreds of families hoping that their golden ticket comes too. All our children deserve an education that will help them succeed, but one size does not fit all, not even close. Every child matters, even the ones who don’t follow the typical path.