Life beyond the Bake Sales...

The PTA this year has been really, REALLY interesting. There is so much I could write, but I promise that someday I will write a book on it all. Or, perhaps a pilot reality show - PTA Moms....what really goes on behind the Bake Sales.

And if only we could just focus on Bake Sales! But oh no. This year, we have had parents who like to complain. A LOT. And they complain at meetings, they call in to the Dept. of Education, and then I get called into the Principals' Office. I also get called at home from the district's office....at 8pm at night. Some of the mean parents have lied to my face, and tell me they will be adult enough to say if something is wrong, and then just text the other mean person who is trying to...I don't know...destroy the PTA. Who does that?! Last week after our co-treasurer resigned, and I had to call out someone in the meeting for trying to destroy our PTA by being malicious and trying to sabotage our efforts, and then one of our Board member's mother came into our meeting to tell us that her daughter was not stealing money from the fundraiser that she wasn't giving us the money for (oh yes - all in one meeting & there was more!) --- there was finally a lull in the meeting and I started to read the revised Bylaws to the group. And I finally broke. I got up from the table and went out into the hallway and just stood there sobbing. Why bother with the PTA --- it was more like a soap opera than a group of parents that could focus on trying to help make things at the school better for all the children.

There was a rally which led to the news reports and being on TV regarding the overcrowding in our school. And there were many, many positive reports after that...but again trouble because I took pictures and used them for the media. Oops. As all other things, there is a learning curve with this volunteer position. I don't know everything, there was no official training but there are 20 pages of our Bylaws and over 40 pages of the Chancellor's Regulations that I should have memorized by now according to someone in the DOE office. I told her I am a mom first --- she didn't seem to care.

I AM getting better at managing my emotions & figuring out how to stand my ground and play the political game - but during the month of September and through mid-October most days I just really wanted to find a fire and light Bylaws and Regulations up, and just walk away and never come back. It's true.

And then there are happy days. Amazing events like the International Dinner with dozens of families came together in costume, and cooked and we danced and played games and had the most incredible time. And the Scholastic Book Fair which made twice the amount of money than any other we've had. And there has been good laughs and good friendships....and I've lost weight. Yes - the stress paid off and I could not eat breakfast for over a month and got physically sick whenever I thought about the PTA and meetings, and I think I can see my cheekbones again. So, there is definitely the silver lining to every cloud.

And there are stories like the following that made me laugh. I just read this a little bit ago, and realized I have to write about all of this that has been going on in my life. Why there haven't been consistent posts, answers to emails and phone calls returned. And the irony is that at the end of the day - I dream of resigning. I want to be "unemployed" by the PTA, however I also do not like to quit or see something through. Which is a little tricky when you dream of how you can exit out of something and make your life less stressful.

So - here you have this little story that one of my friends posted and said she thought of us when she read this....and oh yes, I see some strong similar ties. Ironically - my other friend on the PTA handed me the following quote on Monday - it says: "THE THRILL OF DEFEAT. Why an epic collapse is the best thing that can happen to a {PTA}.

How sad that we all dream of living our posts on the PTA! And without further ado....the letter as found in

http://www.newyorker.com/humor/2011/10/24/111024sh_shouts_semple

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Hi, everyone!

The Mountain Room is gearing up for its Day of the Dead celebration on Friday. Please send in photos of loved ones for our altar. All parents are welcome to come by on Wednesday afternoon to help us make candles and decorate skulls.

Thanks!

Emily

Hi again.

Because I’ve gotten some questions about my last e-mail, there is nothing “wrong” with Halloween. The Day of the Dead is the Mexican version, a time of remembrance. Many of you chose Little Learners because of our emphasis on global awareness. Our celebration on Friday is an example of that. The skulls we’re decorating are sugar skulls. I should have made that more clear.

Emily

Parents:

Some of you have expressed concern about your children celebrating a holiday with the word “dead” in it. I asked Eleanor’s mom, who’s a pediatrician, and here’s what she said: “Preschoolers tend to see death as temporary and reversible. Therefore, I see nothing traumatic about the Day of the Dead.” I hope this helps.

Emily

Dear Parents:

In response to the e-mail we all received from Maddie’s parents, in which they shared their decision to raise their daughter dogma-free, yes, there will be an altar, but please be assured that the Day of the Dead is a pagan celebration of life and has nothing to do with God. Keep those photos coming!

Emily

Hello.

Perhaps “pagan” was a poor word choice. I feel like we’re veering a bit off track, so here’s what I’ll do. I’ll start setting up our altar now, so that today at pickup you can see for yourselves how colorful and harmless the Day of the Dead truly is.

Emily

Parents:

The photos should be of loved ones who have passed. Max’s grandma was understandably shaken when she came in and saw a photo of herself on our altar. But the candles and skulls were cute, right?

Emily

Mountain Room Parents:

It’s late and I can’t possibly respond to each and every e-mail. (Not that it comes up a lot in conversation, but I have children, too.) As the skulls have clearly become a distraction, I decided to throw them away. They’re in the compost. I’m looking at them now. You can, too, tomorrow at drop-off. I just placed a “NO BASURA” card on the bin to make sure it doesn’t get emptied. Finally, to those parents who are offended by our Day of the Dead celebration, I’d like to point out that there are parents who are offended that you are offended.

Emily

Dear Parents:

Thanks to their group e-mail, we now know that the families of Millie and Jaden M. recognize Jesus Christ as their Saviour. There still seems to be some confusion about why, if we want to celebrate life, we’re actually celebrating death. To better explain this “bewildering detour,” I’ve asked Adela, who works in the office and makes waffles for us on Wednesdays, and who was born in Mexico, to write you directly.

• Emily

Hola a los Padres:

El Día de los Muertos begins with a parade through the zócalo, where we toss oranges into decorated coffins. The skeletons drive us in the bus to the cemetery and we molest the spirits from under the ground with candy and traditional Mexican music. We write poems called calaveras, which laugh at the living. In Mexico, it is a rejoicing time of ofrendas, picnics, and dancing on graves.

Adela

Parents:

I sincerely apologize for Adela’s e-mail. I would have looked it over, but I was at my daughter’s piano recital. (Three kids, in case you’re wondering, one who’s allergic to everything, even wind.) For now, let’s agree that e-mail has reached its limits. How about we process our feelings face to face? 9 A.M. tomorrow?

Emily

Dear Parents:

Some of you chose to engage in our dialogue. Some chose to form a human chain. Others had jobs (!) to go to. So we’re all up to speed, let me recap this morning’s discussion:

—Satan isn’t driving our bus. Little Learners does not have a bus. If we did, I wouldn’t still need parent drivers for the field trip to the cider mill. Anyone? I didn’t think so.

—Ofrenda means “offering.” It’s just a thing we put on the altar. Any random thing. A bottle of Fanta. Unopened, not poisoned. Just a bottle of Fanta.

—We’re moving past the word “altar” and calling it what it really is: a Seahawks blanket draped over some cinder blocks.

—Adela will not be preparing food anymore and Waffle Wednesdays will be suspended. (That didn’t make us any new friends in the Rainbow and Sunshine Rooms!)

—On Friday morning, I will divide the Mountain Room into three groups: those who wish to celebrate the Day of the Dead; those who wish to celebrate Halloween; and Maddie, who will make nondenominational potato prints in the corner.

Dear Mountain Room Parents:

Today I learned not to have open flames in the same room as a costume parade. I learned that a five-dollar belly-dancer outfit purchased at a pop-up costume store can easily catch fire, but, really, I knew that just by looking at it. I learned that Fanta is effective in putting out fires. I learned that a child’s emerging completely unscathed from a burning costume isn’t a good enough outcome for some parents. I learned that I will be unemployed on Monday. For me, the Day of the Dead will always be a time of remembrance.