A whole year?

The beginning of the end of high school

It's near the end of the school year and school career with all that entails: award ceremonies, prom, graduation parties, registering for university courses, figuring out what to bring to the dorm room, trying to avoid thinking about saying goodbye, wondering just how much I can change her bedroom without her feeling like she's been cast aside the second she leaves for college.

As I glanced at the program at the latest award ceremony, I quickly gathered that I wouldn't have to pay too much attention to the first several categories: Art, Science, Math. Nope, not much chance of needing to scootch my legs in so Chloe could get by to walk to the front of the commons to receive a photocopied certificate. Band, Drama, Debate, Military and Athletic. Negative again. Likewise, we can relax during the Vocational & Technology Education Awards.

One is invited to the Achievement Awards only if one has received an award (they don't tell you for what), but Chloe joked that she was certain her invitation was a mistake. Whew, toward the end and before we had to leave early to catch the ferry home, she had to stand up for the International Awards (essentially any student who has been to, or is from, another country - alas, no photocopied certificate), then a couple for Honor Society (which we've also heard nothing about, but she's wearing the gold cord and small medal at graduation nonetheless). She's happy because she has some decoration to wear on her graduation gown. And because she deserves it.

If only we'd known the details of these awards at the start of Chloe's high school career we could have directed her to more lucrative extracurricular activities. A group of people in the community formed a foundation to collect scholarship money offered by people in memory of loved ones, former students and teachers, from businesses on the island, etc. To date they've distributed over $1 million, and last week they gave 89 seniors in Chloe's class over $100,000. Keep in mind that this is an island with a population of only 11,000, and this is only one of the many extraordinary things these people do.

Any senior who submits a scholarship notebook (small binders and detailed instructions are provided), and who doesn't have their notebook yanked because of a grievous infraction, gets money. When Christopher was a senior I suggested he not submit a notebook because he worked only as hard as he had to in school and there were other people who deserved the money much more than him. Some kids don't submit notebooks because they have plenty of money for college and want to leave a bigger pie for the rest of the students to divide. Christopher readily agreed (the notebooks are a lot of work to put together), but Chloe has worked hard and she was excited to participate.

I've heard that they try for a minimum of $250 for each student. Some kids get much more than that. One of the scholarships, in memory of a much-loved, youngish teacher who died a few years ago, is for $4,000. Another family gives 5, $1,000 scholarships each year. After the ceremony, along with their thank-you notes, the students return a form to the committee that gives the details of their chosen school (or that they choose to defer the award until they choose a school) and the committee forwards the money to the school on the student's behalf. No, they don't get checks to finance their summer adventures.

After attending the scholarship awards I now know where the big money is: art, science, music, and athletics. Being an overall genius helps, too, and there are a couple of those in Chloe's class. Chloe collected $750 from two scholarships, which she is deferring until St Andrews. I come from a background that tends to believe that higher education is something that rich people get: it's nice to have, but is not necessarily obtainable. Consequently, I've gone a little overboard on ensuring that our kids know that a college degree is not an option for them: they can pump gas if they want, after they get their degrees. So it still surprises me a little when I realize that most people don't consider high school the end of their formal education, and enough people think it important enough to give lots of money to kids they'll never meet to help make higher education possible.

College

I've been going through the Rotary and visa application materials trying to find documentation that we need for college registration. Both kids' vaccination cards misplaced themselves but, of course, it will be on Chloe's Rotary application. Except it's not: It's the only part of the application that is blank. I have copious copies of every document I put my hands on during that time (many of them useless) and I can't find the damn immunization record or the application copy with that section filled out. Now I vaguely remember having to call the school to get her record faxed to me in order to complete the Rotary application. Except they don't have it, either, so I have to try to catch the school nurse on the one day a week she's at school. If she doesn't have it Chloe will be getting two measles shots in the next several months.

Chloe was accepted to the schools she applied to, even St. Andrews in Scotland. So much for "warm and dry." Living in St Andrews will be wetter, colder, darker, and windier than here, which is plenty wet, cold, dark, and windy. But she'll be a quick discount-airlines flight away from warm and dry. She's certain that the English spoken and written in Scotland is enough of a foreign language for her while attending university classes.

Our plan was that she wouldn't get accepted there and even if she did we couldn't afford it so she wouldn't be able to go, but hey, what the heck. What the heck indeed. Acceptance has exposed our plan for the folly that it was, so we have a new plan. She's going to Western Washington University next year while we spend the year trying to figure out how to make St. Andrews work for four years after that. If we could afford to send her there now, we would, but she's really not ready to leave again (she's really enjoyed her year back here) and a year spent a few hours away from home will be good preparation for four more years abroad.

Most of what I've read about college admissions is that it's a crap shoot, especially if you're an above average but not outstanding student. One college admissions officer said he'd rather read an entrance essay that explained what the applicant learned about people while working in a neighborhood grocery store than how the applicant learned all about diversity when he spent the summer in Panama building a school. I agree, but there's no doubt that Chloe's year in Spain was a factor in her college acceptance. Her essays mentioned her experience and how it opened her eyes to other cultures, but also how she dispelled some myths about her culture to the people she met in her host country. And probably reinforced some - now they know for certain that all Americans wear flip-flops year round, even - horrors - when they aren't at the pool.

All the paperwork associated with Chloe's exchange seems like it was prepared a lifetime ago. I'd forgotten the excitement when we found out where she was going. The many bureaucratic disappointments and frustrations along the way. The realization that this was going to happen when we got the itinerary and plane tickets. Every part of the exchange-student experience, from the application to the initial rejection to the return home, has made the prospect of attending university in another country viable. Many people, when they hear that Chloe's planning to go to school in Scotland are surprised. Because of last year, we aren't. Why not? What is so magical about borders that we're surprised when people cross them?

Stop the world, I want to get off

Having to take the required American history and English classes that she missed last year along with all of the required senior classes means lots and lots of work for Chloe and she doesn't even have math this trimester. Although she complained about all the studying she had to do last year, those seem like the good old days of no assignments and no long-term projects. On top of that is the SAT and ACT tests that she couldn't take last year (SAT is tomorrow, ACT is in two weeks, same day as the Homecoming dance). Next week she's taking the first part of the state test to become certified as an interpreter for the state social services agency. Also next week she starts her community service project helping a native Spanish speaker with her English. And the seniors at her school have to compile scholarship notebooks which require a lot of work and reflection.

And, she has to think about college which means applications to complete, essays to write, and recommendations to request. It's going to be an intense few months for Chloe. Today was a field trip to the college fair in Seattle so she got lots of information about potential colleges but is worried that she doesn't have a plan (even though we've told her she doesn't have to have a plan today). Tonight she said she's not sure if she really wants to go to a "real college with sororities and fraternities and all of that." At a loss for what else there might be, I asked what the alternative to a "real college" is: "Not growing up?"

So much work to produce

Last year Chloe complained about all the studying she had to do, but she had almost no assignments or projects. I don't know what it's like in other parts of the country, but my experience with school-age kids is that they aren't required to do much studying (and, like me, no one has ever taught them how to study), but rather lots of projects and papers that require research and hands-on learning. Rote memorization is considered bad because it doesn't engage the students and so they don't retain enough of what they learn. Maybe so, but in the short term it's beginning to look preferable to being responsible for daily assignments and multiple projects to work on requiring research and - horrors - critical thinking. And then there's the SAT and the ACT that she couldn't take last year (which means she's missing one year of American education going into the tests) and scheduling a community-service project. Even though it's not a good idea, it's so much easier to be told what to do and then do it without having to think about it too much.

Before last year I would have agreed that engaging students in a subject teaches them much more than simply studying, memorizing, and passing tests, after which much of the information is forgotten. But we had a smart exchange student who is a product of the memorization system and was much more well-rounded - and more advanced - in her knowledge than most students I know here who are a few years older. It's become a cliché, but school here (in her third language) was much easier for her than school at home. She was shocked that Chloe didn't know Dali or his work: "But those paintings are famous!" Were she and her equally-as-smart sister anomalies? We hear all the time that European students are much more advanced than Americans, but then why do so many of them come to America for their university educations? It's hard to compare because exchange students are not representative of all students.

I have discovered, though, that if I had to chose between producing a critical thinker and one acquainted with surrealist artists, I'd chose the critical thinker. It's easier to learn about art at a later date than it is to learn to think critically.

Nothing learned is ever wasted

The older we get, the more we wish we would have paid closer attention to history classes in high school and college. Who knew at sixteen that we'd be at the Roman Forum when we were adults, wishing that we could remember what they did among all those Ionic and Corinthian columns? Traveling through Europe and visiting major attractions before coming home gave Chloe an opportunity to use what she'd learned last year in school. She'd had to memorize all the popes and was excited to be able to use that knowledge to better understand what she was looking at while at the Vatican. That was also a good lesson in understanding that learning about religion is not necessarily religious education, and that it's impossible to talk about world history and avoid talking about religion at the same time. None of what she learned in school last year counts as prerequisites for required classes here (which makes school this year a little harder in the short term), but the general knowledge she learned has made her a more well-rounded person who is able to see things from a broader perspective than before she left, and gives her a sound base to rely on when learning about many disparate subjects.

Reality still bites

Without Abby, Chloe will have one less reason to say nice things about her school (the other American exchange students go to different schools). She said that even other Spanish kids express sympathy when they find out what school she goes to. It's very rigorous, which is usually a good thing, but not so much when you're there mostly for the culture and there are no extra-curricular activities to soften the blow of the grueling workload in a foreign language, one you didn't know seven months ago. She's learning a lot and anything learned is never wasted, but she won't get a strictly academic benefit from her hard work this year.

She'll get high school credit for this year (many exchange students are not so lucky), but she will be, effectively, a year behind in most subjects. She can't take physics next year because she has to take chemistry first, which she would have taken this year. Same with calculus, because she's missing the prerequisite math class she'd be taking now. Likewise, she has one less year of American education going into the SAT.

What she's gaining this year far outweighs what she's missing at home, but it makes school there that much more of a chore (because she has to pass for credit, and she doesn't want to make her teachers angry) and will make school here next year a lot harder than it would be had she stayed home. In the grand scheme of things, a small price to pay for the opportunity she's had this year, but that doesn't make it any more fun in the moment.

Next year

If your exchange-student child will be returning to his or her home high school next year (like Chloe, who is a junior this year), make sure that you're still on the mailing list. Most students have to unenroll from their schools during their exchange year so it's easy to get booted off the list - no sense in sending pertinent school-related things when the kid isn't registered. You may think that the school would never forget that your fabulous child is on this exciting adventure and would, of course, remember that you need to get important information, but, ha! Out of sight, out of mind, and no mail for you. Another reminder that your kid's home world is spinning just fine without him or her.

At the beginning of this school year I asked that I be kept on the list and the secretary had me write a note reminding her of such. At first, I got two of everything that applied to the whole school: one for the parent/guardian of Chloe, and one for Alicia. Because it's hard to prove (or notice) a negative, I wasn't aware for several months that I wasn't getting things from school addressed to the parents of Chloe anymore. After the first few weeks of sorting out new students and old students who've moved and not unenrolled from school, the schools will update their registration lists and the note I wrote on the back of something out of the recycle bin, at the behest of the secretary, must have gotten lost in the shuffle. And there's always the ever-popular catch-all excuse, "moving to a new computer system."

Because Chloe goes to a school that is out of our home district, we have to get a waiver from our district (because state and federal money follows the student to their new district), and then apply for out-of-district admission at the other school. This has always been just a formality, but now there are so many out-of-district students who want to go to the school (even though they have to take a ferry from one of three separate and disparate counties to get to the school), that the school might have to start denying admittance to some kids who don't live on the island, which is the entire school district (there's only one of each school there: elementary, middle, and high school).

The school sends the necessary forms home in January. I get them signed and in the mail the next day. It didn't occur to me that I hadn't received them this year (out of sight . . .) until a friend, a fellow commuter-student parent, reminded me in March. I got that done, but not until later did it occur to me that if Chloe is enrolled in the school next year, it would be a good idea to be registered for some classes. So, I left a message that I'll need to get the registration forms, too. And I'm still not on the mailing list.

There's also the whole SAT business to be concerned with, but I've been remiss in getting that figured out and every time I say the letters S, A, and T in close succession, Chloe plugs her ears and starts singing "lalalalalalalala" and mentions that she's not interested in hearing about real life just quite yet. All I know for sure is that it isn't offered in the summer: the last test date until fall is June 4. I see also that the basic SAT is $41.50. The last time I paid for an SAT (about four or five years ago), it was either $26 or $29.

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Here's a search string I wouldn't have thought would result in hitting this blog:

why is it necessary to peel the skin from the potato before doing osmosis?

I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that. And all this time I've been leaving the skin on before doing osmosis with my potatoes.

Flexible is good

Yesterday Chloe calls her friend's cell phone (here) to say happy birthday. It's during school, so she knows she'll be leaving a message because, of course, the phone will be off during class time. But it wasn't and Maren answered.

If I was a teacher and a cell phone or pager went off during class, I would own the cell phone until class was over. If it happened more than once, there would be dire consequences to pay. In this class, the former principal of the middle school (he retired a year or two ago) was subbing for the teacher. He's universally regarded as one of the best middle-school prinicpals in the history of American education. I don't know what Maren told him, but I'm assuming it was something like "Chloe's calling from Spain" (he knows every kid who ever walked through his halls, and he probably knew that it was Maren's birthday) and he let her step outside to talk to Chloe. For more than a few minutes. How cool is that?

Getting it home

How to get mountains of stuff home for less than all the stuff is worth? It's not uncommon for family or friends to visit an exchange student. One way is to have them fill in the empty spots (ha!) of their luggage with some of your kid's treasures. Or, if they don't bring their allotted luggage allowance, they can bring one of your kid's suitcases home. That's what we're hoping will happen with Chloe. My mom and her friend will be visiting in May and will be leaving Pamplona for Madrid and their return flight home. Because they'll be at the end of their trip, Chloe's suitcases won't be too much trouble (I wouldn't ask them to schlep her suitcases around Spain and Portugal).

One idea now is that Chloe would accompany them back to Madrid, where they'd spend a few days and she'd be able to act as translator and amateur tour guide and help carry her luggage to the airport. She'd take a bus home to Pamplona after they left. Even if they do end up bringing their allowed two suitcases over with them, having them bring home Chloe's suitcases and paying the extra-baggage fee is cheaper than shipping or mailing the same amount home. We can't bring them with us because we won't be returing to Pamplona before we leave for home. One thing to consider when planning to use discount airlines (EasyJet, Ryan Air, etc.) is that they have much stricter luggage allowances. Ryan Air, for example, limits you to one 15-kilo bag (33 pounds) and one carry-on. Chloe's hair care products alone weigh half that.

I told Chloe about the plan and she said:

Remember that I can't miss too much school so it would have to be on a weekend.

It wouldn't be on a weekend because they fly home on a Wednesday.

Oh. Okay. I'll just miss school then.

Glad to know that she can be so easily swayed from her academic focus.

School will only partially suck

Most of the exchange students I know about (admittedly not that many) have already graduated from high school, so they can academically relax this year. They still have to go to school (most countries don't offer a hang-out-for-a-year-and-goof-around visa without some serious scrutiny and proof of independent wealth), but they don't have to worry about the credits they earn this year counting at home, or the requirements they're missing. A state requirement in Washington for juniors is American History. Chloe is missing that class and, even though she'll have enough credits, it's a requirement for graduation no matter how many credits the student has. Until today we thought she'd have to take it on her own. She won't be home in time this summer to take it, so I thought she might have to do it online in addition to her full schedule at school.

I talked to the principal today and she said it's no problem. Chloe will get credit for her year in Spain, plus she'll get a notation on her transcript about being a foreign exchange student and that apparently counts for something, or at the very least explains some things. She'll have to take the history class - in lieu of an easier elective - with the required senior-year government class so her trimester won't be a lot of fun, but she's had a year of no fun in her Spanish school, so it shouldn't be that bad. A year in Europe in exchange for some extra homework for several months. It could be worse. Like writing characterizations of protagonists in fifteenth-century Spanish literature, in Spanish.