My Child in an Envelope

No, I did not try to stuff my child in an envelope as the title suggests. But I felt like I did when I handed in the manila envelope at Ella's school this morning stuffed full of documentation as to why she should be in the advanced academic program next year. That plain brown envelope felt like a labor of love and whether she gets accepted or not, my eyes have been opened to the treasure I call my daughter.

Ella is not perfect. Far from it. She still sucks her thumb, she whines, she gives me an attitude when she doesn't like the way things are going. Sometimes she hits her brother. Sometimes she stomps her feet and slams her door. I don't even want to think about what she will do when she's a teenager. She is not perfect but I wouldn't want her to be. Perfection is kind of boring - the little flaws are what make us interesting.

Last week I decided that we should submit a referral for Ella to be considered for the program. Now, I'm not one of those parents who has dreamed of the day that their child would be considered for this advanced program. In fact, I had no idea that I had to submit this material until just a few days ago. But once I realized what needed to be done I spent hours scouring through her school work, her various pieces of paper hidden in the recesses of her room, every tiny scrap of evidence that her mind works at a higher, more intricate level. At first I grumbled about it, seeing it as ONE MORE THING that I needed to fit into my busy day.

But as I collected the artwork, the writing samples, the commendations from her piano teacher and soccer coach, I came to realize that I was collecting pieces of Ella. As I related anecdotes on the parent questionnaire I was reminded of the many wonderful little parts of Ella: the way she sits and reads for hours, the way she delights in creating art with her grandmother, the way she takes everything literally and makes us shake our heads with the things she says. As I worked my way through the task it I realized that it was an exercise in itself and not necessarily a means to an end.

So I copied everything, paper clipped it together and slid it into the nondescript envelope and dropped it off today. She may or may not get accepted into the program. It really doesn't matter because I know she'll go far in life, advanced academics or not.

A teacher told me about a parent who offered their second grader 140 dollars if he scored at least a 140 on one of the standardized tests that automatically puts the children in the pool of qualified applicants to the program. I find this disturbing. As our children grow I've come into contact with parents like these, who offer their children ridiculous bribes to do well and who chastise their children when they don't perform at a certain level. I cringe when I hear stories like this. How will these kids learn to do their best just for the sake of doing their best?

I hope that whoever opens that envelope sees what I see - a beautiful little girl, inside and out, with a vivid imagination and the potential to go places in life, no matter how she gets there.