Choosing the Perfectly Imperfect Kindergarten

My oldest son will enter kindergarten in the fall.  The word “kindergarten” nearly makes me ugly cry all over the place every time I say it.

We live in Madison Place/Madisonville (for those of you that aren’t familiar, is a very diverse community on the east side). We chose to purchase our first house here five years ago because the cost and location were right for us. I am not a planner (at all), so the local public school system did not factor into our decision. That sounded like a problem for future Jesika and David to ponder.

Oh hey. Future Jesika here.

See, here’s the problem…our local public school has had its fair share of turbulence in recent years.  It was a failing school not so long ago (but not anymore!), and the few neighborhood kids we know all go out of district.  (To be fair, we are kind of “hermit crab” neighbors.)  As kindergarten loomed nearer and nearer to us, my husband and I decided that we were not going to count out the local school without at least checking it out for ourselves. On a beautiful day in March, I packed up the kids and we took a tour and observed two of the kindergarten classes for short periods of time.

I was thoroughly impressed.

The facilities were really nice. The atmosphere of the school was calm and collected. The people were kind. The school hosts several family-focused and community-focused events. They even have art and music classes!

It was a really, really great visit. This was a school that I would feel confident sending my child to except for one thing…one thing that rocks me to my soul.

My son will likely be the only person of his skin color in his class.

That’s it…the only thing that gives me pause is he would most likely be one of a handful of white kids in the entire school. And I absolutely hate that this affects me so deeply. It is really hard for me to put into words the reasons why (even though I helped found this blog, I am not as eloquent as my fellow writers). I like to think that my husband and I are good people. We want our children to grow up embracing diversity on every level, be it race, economic status, religion, etc. We hope to teach them that every single person in this world deserves dignity, compassion, and kindness. I guess I just don’t want him to feel alone. I just don’t want him to feel singled out.

I just don’t want him to feel any hurt.

Please do not think for one second that it is lost on me that I, the middle-class-married-white-mother, am having feelings that often plague mothers in minority races on a daily basis. I think perhaps that’s one reason why it is affecting me so deeply…but that is a chat for another day.

In the end, my husband and I quickly decided that the school’s predominantly African American population was not going to be a factor in our decision to send our son to a school. I also quickly realized that my concerns are just that: MINE. My 34 years of experience in this often unkind, unfair world are shaping the unknown into something it doesn’t need to be.

I choose to embrace the innocence of children and rely on their inherently good nature. I hope to participate in making my community a safe, loving place for all of our children to grow and love one another.

We’re gonna rock kindergarten.

(Insert ugly cry here.)

Disclaimer: NO JUDGEMENTS to my neighbors or any parents out there who have not and would not make the same choice. We are all doing what we think is best for ourselves, our kids, and our communities. This is just one mom’s story.