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When Huck was a four year old New Yorker, we scheduled a written test through the neighborhood public school to see if he qualified for the random city lottery of gifted and talented elementary schools. While Troy and I were a little horrified at this reality – not being fans of standardized tests per se – it was a dream come true for Huck. For months afterwards he would ask us to sit at the table and give him a pretend test, mostly interpreting abstract drawings. He scored off the charts on the real test and was put into the coveted lottery. We toured some gin and tonic schools – or whatever they’re called – and had our eyes on one in particular near the Museum of Natural History. Sure, it shared its old building with another school and would be a terrible commute each morning and afternoon, but New York parents will do anything! We began secretly making plans about this amazing (and free!) New York City education our child was about to receive.
But he did not win the lottery. He would attend a regular New York City school after all.
There was a spot for him at a nearby public school called Muscota that prided itself on a progressive education, one of our favorite words. And for three years Huck thrived there as a dancer, actor, artist, student council representative, and Roman numeral expert until we decided to pack it up and move down south.
Fast forward 13 years and here we are again, frantically searching for Huck’s future. Instead of a little G&T test, he’s writing essays, making videos, and answering all kinds of questions about himself and his accomplishments. The perfect grades and test scores aren’t nearly enough for the schools he loves with 6% acceptance rates; he has to somehow set himself apart from the hundreds of thousands of students with the same grades and test scores. On the first of November he applied Early Decision to the University of Chicago, and we began secretly making plans about this amazing (and totally not free) education our child was about to receive.
But he lost that lottery, too. After delaying their admission announcement by four days and nearly killing me, UChicago said no to Huck. And while we knew it was a long shot – so few spots and so many thousands of applicants – it still felt like crushing news to us fragile parents and Wichita State University grads. Huck, on the other hand, handled the disappointment like he always handles such things – something about being an Enneagram Nine. He began working on the other college applications due in the next week or two, taught me how to play Gin Rummy, and went to Target with friends. I quietly took down our favorite UChicago postcard from the fridge and resisted throwing it in the fireplace.
And then our friend Padma sent Huck and me an email. Padma and I have been co-parenting since we met in 2013, and she’s going through similar emotions with her high school senior. We’ve together weathered summer lemonade stands in Arkansas heat, cut-throat junior high spelling bees, and November 2016. Her mother voluntarily led the advanced math group for Huck friends in 3rd-6th grade to keep them stimulated and challenged. Being our favorite published novelist and creative writing professor, Padma met with Huck this fall to read his essays over tea and Indian snacks, giving him invaluable lessons in life. She sees the eight year old in him and the 30 year old at the same time. They will always be friends.
Her supportive and uplifting email ended with this line: “Meanwhile, stay warm in front of your fire and see you on the 25th for Geoff’s famous veggie lasagne and some games!” And that was what it took to finally release the tears of motherhood. Something about the cheerful reminder of the joys of life: a fire in the midst of zero temps, food made with love, and games. Always games.
Muscota turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to this family. I can’t wait to find out the next one.
Spelling Bee Champs