As it turns out, I did learn something at Crazy Hippie Montessori School in Boulder! I dig Montessori, but this particular school was a no. I mean at the time, as a youngster it was an emphatic YES! Dub and I spent our days drawing, playing let’s pretend, and ‘learning’ long division by moving pretty turquoise balls back and forth in test tubes.
I put ‘learning’ in quotes because let’s just say that long division is neither mine, nor Dub’s strong suit.
Percentages though, percentages I got. I can figure a percentage like nobodies business. I need that skill for strategic shopping purposes.
Our mothers pulled us out of Crazy Hippie Montessori School at the end of 4th grade plunking us smack in the middle of the establishment’s public schools for 5th. Say what? Desks? Homework? We were woefully unprepared. While Dub knuckled down and towed the line- smart girl – I preferred to act out and live in an imaginary world where I was a princess and had a horse. (So…nothing’s changed except now the horse is a super safe awesome SUV to put the kiddo in.) The school district decided to hold me back in 6th grade because my ‘imagination was too strong‘. Can you imagine? The thought of a child’s imagination being quashed makes my blood boil.
Perhaps they should have tried to hold me back because I didn’t KNOW MATH. The very math they couldn’t be bothered to teach me. But that’s another matter. So Mrs. Pinchuck, wherever you are, a little more attention on the teaching and a little less attention on the being mean. Also? If you have a strong Southern Dialect, don’t get mad if you say mirrah in a spelling test and I write MIRRAH. You gotta say the terminal R sound for a little kid to get it!
Today Mr. Max happily trotted over to me with his lovely kelly green recorder, handed it to me and said “Mommy! Do this!” I promptly performed both Hot Cross Buns and Mary Had a Little Lamb.
Score one for Crazy Hippie Montessori School. Recorders are big in Montessori. And now I am big to Mr. Max.