Manda got her schedule from the high school and it was really, really whacked. It had her in all sorts of vocational ed classes (like motor shop and food prep), didn't have her in the advanced science and math she was supposed to take (she passed the entrance exams) and had two hours of study periods each day, just before lunch. Huh?
I went to this high school and I had some odd scheduling problems, but this was insane. I called the school and found out that they had guidance available that day to fix any scheduling problems, c'mon down. Nope, they can't do anything over the phone, and a parent must be present. I asked if the school was handicapped accessible (since it wasn't when I went there). A big nope on that, too. BTW, this would be the one and only chance to fix schedules before school started - if she didn't get there that day, she'd have to follow the whacked schedule until she could get an appointment with guidance.
Bob was working, Grandpa was out, so that left me to drive, although Manda eagerly volunteered to pinch hit. (Sorry. Even my pathetic driving is better than letting a 14 yeear old take the wheel. I'm not a bad driver, it's just that I find it exhausing, and rarely drive any more) We started out to the driveway, and Manda suggested that I take Bob's truck - it's an automatic, and besides, Bob has been using my Bug as a storage facility.
We got to the high school, which apparently has seen no updating or maintentance since I graduated in 1980. There were some kids waiting (without parents, which I was told was a no-go), and the "fashions" were truly nasty. One girl was wearing a tee shirt torn nearly to her navel with no bra, shorts, and (get this) sandals and striped gym socks with her sandals. Shin pads completed the look. Huh?
We took a number and waited our turn. When we got called, the guidance person first said that there was nothing she could do, and that Manda could talk to the science and math department heads after school started. She also tried to talk Manda into taking the vocational classes ("You never know if you're not college material."). Manda, being a lot nicer than I am, turned to go. I was not about to accept this as the final word, which seemed designed to keep her from having to do the work of changing the schedule. I politely but firmly said that the math and science classes would be changed, and that if Manda wanted vocational classes, that would be something we'd decide, not just take luck of the draw on a schedule. The woman tried to stare me down (heh - she obviously had never met me before). Manda's schedule was changed to what it should have been in the first place. Gee, I'm so surprised.
I'm still a little disgruntled, though. The child still has all those study periods, and the guidance lady refused to stick an extra class or two in there (Manda would still have at least one study period a day, even with the extra classes). She said that "the students are only entitled to take seven classes, and we don't have the resources for people who want extra."
What the frank? I have a feeling that we're going to have to go higher up the food chain. Having a kid spend more than two hours a day doing nothing cannot be a good idea. Besides, Manda really wants to earn her graduation credits before senior year, so once she gets accepted to a college, she can take a reduced schedule and relax. I mentioned Manda going to the community college next door (at our expense) during that long break, so she could get some college prerequisites out of the way. The guidance lady said (get this), "Hmm. I bet there would be a lot of paperwork with that. It would be better if she didn't do it at all." :-0
I guess I have several issues to take up in September. One of the biggies is Manda's name. It's misspelled, and the guidance lady tried to convince us that we don't know how to spell our own name. Good lord. But we did get a lot done, and we got a map to the school and the names of her teachers. She has a lot of the same teachers I had, and the school is laid out identically to when I went there.
We got back out to the car, and I was whipped. It was only in the mid-eighties here, but the school's handicapped parking is about two blocks from the door (I parked in a regular spot which was much closer), and there are about fifty steps to get in. Manda told me I was going gray, and we decided to get home before things got scary. She also pulled out a bottle of juice for me, and put it in the cup holder.
We were driving the arduous trek of a half mile toward home, when a motorcycle decided to do some creative manuevers and created a lane between me and the cars parked at the side of the road. Instinctively, I did something, and my purse and the bottle of juice (closed, thankfully) went flying. Everything was safe and fine, though and we kept heading toward home.
"What the heck did I just do?" I wondered aloud, as Manda retrieved the bottle of juice.
Manda started laughing. "You were reaching for a gear shift. I've been watching your foot, and you've been using the footrest as a clutch all day."
The weasel was right. Although the truck has an automatic transmission, I am so stuck in my ways that I was driving a manual, sort of. We had a good laugh, and traveled the final block or two toward home without incident.
Kathy N-V