Monark Files: I (Originally published September 2008)

The Monark Files - I:

We step lightly into a classroom painted to the ceilings with characters from the well-known Sponge-Bob cartoon.  Hefty mothers, all toting large egos, condescending questions and dragging their frightened children behind them, step on my toes with eagerness to be the first in line, the first with a question and the first of recognized mothers in this liberal setting East of Home. Granting them to pass before me and my son, they quickly find their child's seat and plop them in it with a fierceness; moving on to ask Ms. Teacher stupid questions about reminding little Johnny that he has to go 2 and can ask for assistance in wiping his behind. My eyes scan the room as I hold firmly to the belief that this is somewhat backwards, irritable and nothing less than wrong.  I feel  G's little grip on my hand and as it tightens, look down to see his knuckles turning white. He looks up at me with a question of what to do next?  I look around the room for the little miniature of a school scenario that might behold the name of my dear child – and my eyes fall upon the display for butterflies that is no doubt posted with pride.  Four inch letters spanning the top of this monstrous, artistic display shows clearly, the aptitude for our new venture – there it is: M-O-N-A-R-K Butterflies.  MONARK?  Really?  

Of all that is semi-precious and eluding – you can't get the name right? The English right? The grammar?  The First Impression?   Oh Heavenly days, what has happened to the trademark of profession? Of pride in leadership,  and of recognizing your faults and CORRECTING them?  I suppose it goes hand in hand with the fact that Ms. Teacher kept referring to my son as "Colin" – and on correction, she told me "That's your son!" I allowed her to be enlightened as to the fact that seeing as how I participated in the naming of such a child, I would know his name and it was. Not. Colin.   Anyway, it has brought new light to the case-scenario of being assigned this grab-bag of a school system.  All things come to light with enough patience – in the meantime, I think that I'll join the PTA.  Take a controlling stance on what's circling the school about me.