school# 1 & school #2

Elementary schools in the Ukrainian city of Dniepropetrovsk where I spent two summers are numbered, not named. I remember some of our team being at School 17, was I at #47? Someone help me remember??

Here is the story why public school #1 was not a good fit for our family, and how we ended up at public school #2. Extra bonus cliffhanger at the end to reward anyone who actually reads this whole post!

*I realize I wrote about this first part already,

but it was so much effort to write it all,

I'll keep it here for review.*

When we found this rental home and discovered it to be a short walk to the local school (also the ONLY school in town), we knew we had to try it out. I knew that I would have to lower my expectations from what we experienced at our beloved school in Abbotsford, I just didn't realize how vastly different this local school would be.

Monday morning came, and off to school we went. It didn't take long for me to see how very different this school was from the one we left behind. I tried to keep my expectations at bay as I knew I had to give this school a fair chance. But that was tough to do as I watched how the classrooms were managed, how the teachers interacted with the students, how CHAOTIC the atmosphere felt. Paul and I have really been trying to impress on our boys that we will take care of them - always. We want them to look to us as their providers and protectors and advocates for as long as possible. Leaving them at that school made me feel like I was leaving them to fend for themselves. The routine for Marty was tricky, as he had to leave his outdoor footwear and lunch bag (and water bottle, out of the lunch bag) in a cubby in the classroom then go out into the hallway to hang up his coat and backpack. The kids were expected to do this all on their own. The classroom itself was brick and gloomy, and I frequently heard the teacher issue threats of time-outs to kids (Marty assured me was not a recipient). I saw one situation where one boy complained to the teacher that another boy had been bothering him. The teacher didn't talk to either of them to find out what happened, just said "You're getting a time out when we get back in the classroom". Max had his real teacher for the first day then had a substitute every other day that week.

I cried a little bit each of the first two days I left my boys there. So did Jaxon - "I want my boys! I want my Max! I want my Marty! Go back, get my boys!" I cried a LOT on the third day I left them there. It was the day of the Terry Fox run. I planned to stay for the assembly and the run, as my experience has been that's what parents do! I was discouraged to see there were no more than 4 or 5 other parents there to take part in the commemoration and to encourage the kids as they ran. After the assembly, the plan was to go out into the parking lot to cheer on the Middle and High School students as they came through the school property on their longer run through town. I noticed that Marty still had on his inside shoes (Crocs!) and found out the teacher had forgotten to get them to change into their outside shoes. Only the kids who were wearing slippers were allowed back to the class to change. I had a dry pair of socks for Marty to change into. I had taken Max's jacket off after the assembly as I knew he'd get really hot while running. Then it turned out they had to stand around waiting for the older kids to come through. Max started to get really cold as they were standing in the shade, and just wanted to go home! This from my boy who has been looking forward to the Terry Fox Run for months! I could tell he just didn't feel comfortable or settled. Finally the decision was made to not wait any longer, and to get on with "our" run. I had to use some of Max's newly acquired toys as leverage, but he finally did join me for a lap around the field. Marty and Jax took off together and had a great time. Max did eventually cheer up and find his running legs and made it around the field a few more times. At the end of the run came the announcement that teachers could choose whether to keep their class outside to wait and cheer for the older students, or to go back into their classroom. I went inside to meet Marty at his class to change his wet socks, only to find out they had gone back outside. Max's class went inside and started to have their snack, only to be called out by the principal over the PA, yelling - "They are on their way! Everyone out and cheer them on!". And out they went, not together as a class, just out the door each child doing their own thing. The classes eventually gathered together and then stood there for FORTY MINUTES as they half-heartedly clapped or high-5'd the older students who straggled through the parking lot. They had no jackets, wet socks, and were standing in the shade. For 40 minutes. I stayed until they went back in the school, as both my boys were looking at me to either warm them up or give them a snack. Finally the lunch bell rang, so I knew they'd be going back inside to eat.

I went back "home" to Sharon's house (I was staying there until Paul came later that week with our moving truck and we could move into our rental), sat at the kitchen table and cried. And cried and cried. Jennie-Lynne, another 'Camp wife' (as we have come to be known) stopped by for a visit. It was our first real visit together since we both arrived in town, and was a good way to get past the chit-chat of getting to know each other. I cried, she listened. I went back to pick the boys up at dismissal time and ended up chatting with Marty's substitute teacher. (I had known his teacher would be away for the afternoon.) I asked her how often she had been in the school, how it compared to other schools in the district (it covers a really broad geographical area, covering several communities), and told her about what we were accustomed to at South Pop. She said "you know there's a Traditional School in the district, right?". As a matter of fact, I did know there was one but had completely forgotten. We had driven past it when we took a wrong turn on our way to Camp for the first time in the summer. When we found a place to live in town, I knew I had to give our catchment school a chance. Now knowing what that experience was going to look like, I was immediately open to find out more about the Traditional School. I knew it was a bit of a drive from town, and hoped it wasn't going to be too far. I had already decided I didn't want to drive 25-30 minutes all the way into Duncan, and wasn't comfortable with my boys being on the bus for an hour every day. I went home to Sharon's once more and sat at the table again, weeping into my tea. So dramatic, I know, but my heart ached to think of continuing to send my boys to that school any longer.

I made arrangements to go visit the school the next day (Thursday). Sharon went with me - good friend that she is. As soon as we walked in, it felt like "home". Like the school we had so loved being a part of in Abby. It was quiet, calm, bright, uncluttered. We met the principal, who remarkably resembled my mother. "Jan" answered all my questions and said there would be room for both my boys in their respective grades. I was convinced the switch needed to be made, and Paul later gave his blessing. We knew it would be a big commitment of time and money for gas, but felt it was the best option, considering the circumstances. We went out for their first day on Friday. Max seemed to make a few friends right away, but Marty was a bit nervous and only visited the K classroom for about half an hour while I observed and chatted with the teacher. The female teacher. She's lovely and kind and firm - everything a Kindergartener's mother could hope for.

I later found out that my Mom and her sisters actually attended the school as children! My Mom started Grade 2 there the first year the school opened. It wasn't a Traditional school back then, and I don't know if they had to wear unifoms. But students do now, and they are red! I miss the navy blue from South Pop, but red is nice too.

The whole school, during a regular Monday morning assembly:

104 students, Grades K-6, five divisions. Every class is a split: a K/1 (14 Ks and 3 1s), a 1/2, a 2/3 (Max's class - 9 2s and 9 3s), a 3/4, and a 4/5/6.

Special guests for the Remembrance Day Ceremony

Next post: Why this isn't the end of our school story ...