There really is nothing more you can do to boost a child’s confidence than wake up to find him on the front page of the paper. And NOT for robbing a bank or something horrible…nope. For being a kick ass kid, who is quirky and fun and so smart.

Yes, I’m a proud Mom…but hear me out for a second- do me ONE favor, please..just one: Make sure you are encouraging your children’s dreams. Even if they seem insane. Even if that means they take a part your toaster. Even if that causes you to have to drive two hours every Sunday to a horse ranch (his sister) or even if that means telling them that anything, truly anything is possible. Even if you have to sacrifice more than ONE toaster, or DVD player, or old VCR.

Stop being stuffy and worrying about the stain it might make on your grass if you explode Mentos and pop. Let go of the idea that paint everywhere might destroy your table.

These are things I have had to learn to breath deeply over in the beginning. And I am so glad I have learned to forget about all the little things and instead embrace the fun and sometimes totally disgusting (family of caterpillars in my HOUSE anyone?) things in order to show my children how much fun learning really can be- and how it can truly bring them closer to their dreams.

This is also where I am glad my husband, even though sometimes it drives me nuts, is a giant kid himself. Because when you combine that with my children’s love of learning and science and animals and insects..you end up with two little rock stars who can and WILL do whatever they want in life. And I couldn’t be more proud.

*I can’t leave out the two teachers who have helped guide my kids through their first years of school, as scary as they were for us, after we left the ‘traditional’ classroom. Jenny Williams and Ana Donovan have been those teachers who my kids will never forget. You know, the ones where people ask you ‘who was your favorite teacher?’ and you immediately have fond and wonderful memories of those ‘special’ teachers that touched your life and made you who you are. Not only Have Miss Jenny and Mrs. Donovan done that for our kids, but they’ve done that for our entire family. Jack wouldn’t be on the cover of the newspaper were it not for them and their constant insistence that he can be JACK…not some strict and strapped down version of Jack. But Just Jack. Because he’s perfect just as he is.

I left afraid the next adult my children will encounter won’t want to teach them. Won’t care if they learn. Won’t mind if they are unsuccessful, unable to read, unable to write, unable to make change.

I left crying.

I left angry.

I recently sat down with the principal, the founder, and the executive director of education of my children’s charter school and screened Waiting for Superman.

The film takes you through the failings of our pubic education system, demonizes the teacher’s unions, and rips your heart out of your chest as you ache for the millions of children left behind, falling through the cracks, and horribly wronged by the system.

It also lifts up the charter school idea. And while I don’t feel qualified to talk about public education as a whole, I do feel like I can talk about what works for us.

Our school is different.

And I think the difference is essential for the educational survival of so many kids, not just mine. Overlooking what I thought were unfair pot shots at teachers in the film, the overriding message hit home- the system is broken.

And what is saving kids as we haphazardly attempt to fix the broken system? The Charter. And only one-in-five of those are successful. My kids are in a charter. My kids GOT IN by the same luck and crossed fingers others experience. But what of all the millions of kids who don’t?

I feel guilty my children get a chance at an alternative education, and they don’t. It gnaws at me. As I think it should gnaw at ALL of us. And did we abandon those in a traditional public school (I’m in a PUBLIC charter) for the greener grass on the other side… leaving them to rot?

We did what we had to for our kids. And yes, the results are still out. But I can tell you this…it feels better. The stress level in our home. The lack of tears at homework time. The smiles in the morning at school time and tales of yoga in class, and leadership projects, and becoming tiny global citizens. The social, emotional, and academic needs of my kids are being addressed…they are not slaves to worksheets and filing in bubbles. They are allowed to dream, to create, to innovate, and to explore.

Which is the opportunity every child should be afforded, not just mine. Yet here we are. A documentary – a Hollywood production- is what gets us talking about education. THAT in and of itself is a sad commentary on the state of public education in America. We need a film to get us to think, or to act.

I don’t pretend to have any answers other than what I felt I had to do for my children. And that is not an answer, that’s a reaction. And all over the US parents and caregivers are reacting, some luckier than others in their solutions.

While a real, permanent, solid, solution I fear is decades away.

As the new school year gets underway, I find myself, once again explaining why we’re not at our neighborhood school.

You see, I made the decision to yank my kids from our awarding winning public school, and place them in a public charter.

<silence>

It’s ok. That’s the reaction I usually get. You see, my kids are bright. And active. And while my son was doing just fine academically at our neighborhood school, he was stressed. Conforming to the traditional setting did not suit him at all. In fact, it was sucking the creativity and the life right out of him. My bright, bright boy was struggling to keep his hands still and his mouth shut and his eyes and heart were glazing over.

When his then teacher suggested we use medication to stifle what little spunk was left, I was done.

Done.

Now mind you I’m not one of those mother’s who is blind to their child’s faults. We also sought the advice of pediatricians, school psychologists, and a therapist. Its been a long road for a kind-hearted boy who wasn’t a bad kid, but was quickly being labeled as one because he would roll his pencil in his fingers or had trouble sitting for more than 20 minutes at a time.

There he was, standing against the wall at recess because he hadn’t finished a work sheet…when what he needed more than anything was that 30 minutes to run free and climb and play.

So without knowing what I was going to do, but knowing this had to change, I pulled my son from his Kindergarten and sought an alternative. For all I knew that meant I would home school, or we’d sell body parts for a private school…I didn’t care.

As luck would have it, a spot opened up at the brand new charter in our valley. The first, in our valley. Project learning based. Hands on. Individualized learning. Something his then teacher said she couldn’t do for him, due to a lack of resources. And let me be clear… I do not fault her, or the old school at all. They did what they could do and they managed their classes as best they could with the resources they had. But it was a one size fits all solution…one I couldn’t accept for my son and now, my daughter.

I have the utmost respect for the teachers union. For educators. For the system that is being held together by strings and band-aids and for those who work so hard every day to keep it together and educate our kids. But that system does not work for every child. It’s leaving so many of our boys and girls behind in it’s wake, and I refuse to let my kids suffer while the system gets fixed.

I couldn’t wait another five years, or another round of elections, or another anything. My kids are in elementary school NOW and I have no time for this system to change.

I’m lucky, I found a solution in my own neighborhood. Others are not so lucky. But I would have homeschooled and worked full time if that was my only other choice. I would have gotten a second job to pay for that private school. There are no limits to what we’d do for our kids.

I was talking to my husband the other night about telling this story. About how our family ended up at a charter…and I hesitated. You see, even in our growing valley, traditional ‘values’ run deep and there is already the nay-sayers that are complaining about the ‘un’learning we do at our school. I didn’t want to stir that pot.

But, in the end, I wanted to share our story because it’s not just ours. You see, I’m seeing many families transfer over from those award winning schools. I’m hearing other stories of the struggle with hours upon hours of homework, killing and drilling, soul sucking teach to the test.

There are many.

And while our charter is NOT for everyone, it is the perfect fit for us- the quirky family with the writer mother and artist father and two amazing children who learn through play and encouragement and love.

I’m Erin, and I support charter schools. I also support public education. Those two things can- and sometimes do- go hand-in-hand.

The first day of school may be more anxiety ridden for me, than for the kids.

I toss and turn the night before, wondering if I’ve prepared them for the social angst, the work, the general knowledge of knowing where to go, who to trust, what’s in their backpacks.

And then we walk through the doors and, in the case of one, her head goes down and she’s more than determined to conquer each task given with determination and perfection. In the case of the other, he’s relieved that a summer of isolation is over and his social butterfly can soar free, talking 100 miles per minute.

After…comes the silence. Sitting in an empty home where I continue to fret and hope I’ve done my best for them to succeed and excel.

My soon-to-be 6-year old celebrated 100 days of Kindergarten this week.

I’d like to bow my head in a moment of silence for the roller coaster ride we’ve been on in 100 days.

The start of “real school” for your first born really is an ass-kicker. From the endless questions about if they are ready, when they are ready to navigating a new school and it’s insane system. The paperwork, my GOD the paperwork, the endless notes that come home. The fundraisers, the teacher gifts, the volunteer hours.

Yes, the first time you send your child off to school it’s a new world for him and you.

We’ve made some tough decisions around here in this first 100 days of chaos. Some good. Some bad. Some drastic.

So while I sift through the mound of construction paper projects and permission slip reminders and practice our letters one more time…I salute you 100 days of Kindergarten. You’ve made me crazy, my son stressed, and all of us insane.