If You Know Where to Look…
January 30, 2008
And moments after Twitter came back up, Chris Brogan pointed to this post on Inside the Rabbit Hole that pretty much answers most of the questions I asked in my last post.
But I’m still trying to figure out how I’m going to fit Seesmic and other video sites in there too.
I guess I should be happy that I have some resources to look at! Never reinvent the wheel, just ask the guy with the car where he got his.
Social Media Currency – If Time is Money, How Do You Spend Your Online Time?
January 30, 2008
Twitter’s down for updates. Buttercup is down for the count – asleep with her new kitten sleeping at the foot of her bed. GeekDaddy is somewhere in a plane, en route home from a business trip to Philadelphia. What better time to update the blog?
And there’s the thing tonight – Time. When does anyone ever have the time to do anything online?
These past few months, I’ve been going slowly past just dipping my toes into the vast pool of Social Media and wading in deeper, in the hope of learning to swim in what is rapidly becoming a veritable sea of choices.
The faster I get up to speed, though, the more choices there are to spend my time on.
Earlier today, I was reading Jeremy Pepper’s blog post on The Question of Community and thinking “geez… that’s just a sampling of the places I could spend my time online today – and it doesn’t include so many of the places I already visit daily – and even if I did nothing but spend my time online, I couldn’t get through all of those in one day.”
Then I was on Twitter and reminded by a friend in time to catch part of Jeff Pulver’s broadcast today on PulverTV. Unfortunately, I ended up missing Loic Le Meur’s interview because I was driving a pajama-clad Buttercup & her best friend to preschool, but I was there for long enough to hear Jeff talk about the intention of PulverTV to become a 24/7 online independent TV station full of indy content.
Later, I managed to get over to Loic’s blog to catch the video from his presentation yesterday at DEMO. I had to miss that live yesterday, but wanted to see what was up with Seesmic and it’s new threading and conversation features.
Then I drifted over to Justin.tv to see a bit of a Ronald Lewis chatting with Jim Turner in part about social media.
Okay, are you over the play-by-play linkage yet? Me too. But imagine then, the time I invested in doing all of those things. At the same time, I was keeping up with my email, Twitter, and a handful of other daily sites I visit. I didn’t include the half-dozen blog postings I visited, read, and commented on. I didn’t include the time spent creating new accounts or modifying old ones at social networking sites to reflect my current status. I didn’t include dozens of things done online worth noting, but unmentioned because I’m afraid this is already too lengthy. I didn’t mention fitting in the offline adventures of parenting a 5 year old.
It got me to thinking about how people make choices regarding Social Media. How do they choose which blogs to read, which videos to watch, what sites to interact on?
There are folks I see working in this field who seem to spend more time doing it than is really humanly possible. They’re online when I give up in the small hours of the morning and force myself to bed knowing that my daughter will be up and raring to go far earlier than my body thinks is practical. If I get up 5 hours later and manage to find a moment to open a browser between waking and breakfast, they’re back at it again. They seem to have an omnipresence I can’t begin to fathom. Managing blogs, Facebook, Twitter, streaming video, showing up at conferences and trade shows, knee-deep in every event I hear about.
I’m utterly mystified as to how they are doing it – but I’m somewhat convinced that they must be following Thomas Edison’s famed ‘polyphasic’ sleep habits. Maybe cloning themselves as well, so that their families and loved-ones don’t miss them while they are busy living the Web 2.0 Life.
So as my forays into this Social Media field increase, I’m finding that I’m going to have to make choices. I’m going to have to budget my online time as carefully as I do my money. Because while I might win the lottery one day and not have to worry a bit about spending too much on shoes – I’m pretty certain that I’m not going to get more than 24 hours out of every day any time in the near future.
What I want to know, though, is how to start prioritizing these things?
Whoops… Timing! Now the news on TV in the background has cut over to Bill Clinton, live, about 5 miles from my house… and the 25-hour bean soup I’m making in the crockpot needs stirring and I’d better wrap this up before Twitter comes back up again.
Brother, can you spare an hour?
Swimming in Social Media – Comment as Blog Post
January 29, 2008
Ike Pigott’s post “One Size Fits None” with regard to Social Media, Companies, and Twitter Packs got me thinking even more about this whole concept. I wrote a comment over there that I would really rather post as an entry over here – so with a few tweaks…
The more I think about Chris Brogan’s analogy of the “starter pack” of Magic gaming cards, the more I understand what he was trying to do with Twitter Packs… and also how it’s really only something that would help someone getting into Twitter for the social aspect, rather than as a business strategy.
I’m going to push the Magic ’starter pack’ analogy a bit if you don’t mind… Because I’m making a certain assumption that anyone reading this either has a passing familiarity with the game (as in ‘knows what it is’) or the ability to look it up and grasp the concept fairly quickly.
In games of strategy, like Magic, you can sit down with a ‘ready made’ deck and play the game reasonably well enough for enjoyment. But if you’re really deciding to get into it, you aren’t going to go that route. You’re going to learn how to build your own deck – learn what cards have what strengths and weaknesses, and what your opposition plays and how they approach the game. Because when you’re committed to it, you are playing to win, not just for the enjoyment of a few hours of entertainment.
So, too, if you are a business committing to Social Media as a marketing and networking strategy, you need to set out to win, not just to amuse yourself for a time. You need to learn the ins and outs of the game – where your strength lies and where your weaknesses are. You need to know what your competitors are doing and how they’re approaching the Social Media waters – and what cards they already hold in their hands.
Social Media as a tool for someone sitting in his/her office late at night seeking interaction from like-minded individuals can be jump-started nicely with those ’starter packs’ Mr. Brogan conceived of.
But for a company or business that is about to jump into the Social Media waters, that’s not a good long-term strategy. You have to start at the shallow end and wade in to get a feel for the sands underneath and to see where the sharks go.
Tempest, I am Your Teapot
January 28, 2008
Call me the mouse that roared.
Or Cassandra.
Or just someone who was standing in the middle of the theater shouting “Wait! This could result in a fire!” and causing a small amount of pandemonium in the seats around me.
I still don’t like the concept of TwitterPacks being in wiki form. I still don’t like the term pack. But I will state as clearly and for the record as I can right now:
The intent behind Twitter Packs was a benevolent one and a good one and I don’t think it was some nefarious plot. I just don’t believe that the implementation was/will be ultimately as beneficial or successful as it could’ve been had it been done otherwise.
But you know what? Chris Brogan is a generally good guy. He was trying to help people to hear that conversation I’ve been raving on and on about in Twitter. So can we get away from my (and anyone else’s) misconstrual of the word “pack” and move on to other important things?
Honestly, it’s not like my refusing to participate matters a whit to anyone in the bigger scope of things. I’m an intermittent blogger with a really cool Twitter circle – but you can have that too, and if you don’t know where to start, well, maybe TwitterPacks is for you… it’s not my cup of tea, but not everyone drinks tea.
It’s not the way I’d recommend going about it, but maybe if I have a way, it would be best if I blog about that, rather than about perceived issues with someone else’s way, eh?
Here’s Your Sign…
January 28, 2008
If you’ve read this blog at all, you know that I’m presently entranced by Twitter.
Or at least, I have been. But I’m afraid that obsession may be coming to a premature end. Strangely tho, not due to anything the folks at Twitter themselves have done.
The thing about Social Media is that the users really determine the experience. You might have the best platform, design, and concept around – but if you haven’t got the people, you haven’t got anything but a URL.
Likewise, apparently, the users can take a site in a direction that can prove its demise. I doubt the founders of MySpace ever foresaw it as the blinky, noisy, child-predator-ridden eyesore that it has become.
Today, the flurry on Twitter is all about TwitterPacks, a wiki that purports to allow the creation of “packs” for the expressed purpose of telling new Twitters whom they should follow based on interest or location.
While I get the intent, and agree that it’s only well-intentioned – trying to create a way for new users to ‘hear’ the Twitter conversation rapidly – I can’t help but believe this is the worst idea to crop up yet.
Why? Well, predominantly because I survived high school – but spent 4 years working diligently to avoid getting labeled in a sea of labels. Are you a jock? a band geek? a cheerleader? a drama queen? a punker? a stoner? a nerd? Pick a label, any label – and try not to stray out of your section of the lunch room, will you? It’s much simpler if we just deny your complexity and put you in a box.
Hardest of all was trying to avoid the box of “rebel – just like all those other rebels – tries to pretend she’s not part of any clique, so we put her in the antisocial clique.” No, I don’t want to be ‘different, just like you.’
If I didn’t put up with it at sixteen, when it’s damned hard not to “go along to get along” – I’m certainly not going to play ball when I’m in my forties.
Am I a Social Media guru? No. But I’m interested in Social Media and I’m busy studying it.
Am I a Network Security guru? No. But I know more about it than your average bear – because it interests me.
Am I a Blogger? No, not really – despite this little corner of the internet, I don’t consider myself a blogger, because I don’t do it with any level of regularity or professionalism. At best, I have a blog. That doesn’t make me a “blogger” any more than writing an essay makes me a “writer.” It’s not what I do for a living.
Am I any of the other “fill-in-the-blank categories” rapidly popping up on the wiki? No, not really and Yes, all of them. Except possibly the geographic ones. I live where I live.
But that’s another point. One of the things I really enjoyed about Twitter was that it was Web 2.0 based, not geographically based. We’re on the internet here folks – my Timeline includes people from all time zones and many countries. If geography is important to me, it’s only to know who happens to be somewhere I may visit so I can meet them face-to-face… but to follow someone based on where they live? That sort of defeats the purpose.
And please don’t get me started on the term “packs” – okay, never mind that warning, I’m started. Packs. Packs are things that have leaders and followers. Alphas and Betas. Male dominated. They aren’t individuals – they act according to the will of the one over the many. The truth is, you can’t run in ‘many packs’ – you can run alongside them… but packs are not inclusive – they are exclusive.
I’m just don’t understand it. Most of the people I’m following are very smart, savvy, caring individuals. But that last word in the previous sentence is just as important as the three that precede it. They are individuals.
I think maybe there’s the initial fun of ’signing up’ on the wiki… and it’s just the rush of “ooh, you know, I love chess – I’m going to join the chess club – and I love singing, so choir is in, and the computer club, and I think maybe I’ll look at sports…” without the realization that there’s the propensity for getting squished into a box and never let out.
Then again, perhaps I’m being alarmist. There’s the possibility that somehow this community will rise above the tendency to self-segregate.
I was terribly impressed with how the Frozen Pea movement managed to stay open to everyone and anyone… that they managed a sense of community without becoming one of exclusion. If this “TwitterPack” concept goes that direction, then it would prove to be a good thing. The concern I have with regard to that is that I’ve never seen a “list of names” when it comes to those who can and do support the PEAs…
At what point does having an open access mean someone deleting someone else’s name from the list? Or someone adding someone else’s name without their willingness? When does it become “we needed to remove access because some Joker went through and deleted a bunch of stuff…” and thereby become “if you want your name on here, you have to go through these people…”?
I suppose I’m sounding a tad like Cassandra. But all good intentions aside, I just don’t see this rolling out well. If it moves forward as I rather expect it will, I think there’s a good chance that this will be the point where Twitter stops being an open community and starts being terribly clique-ish. And that will be a sad, sad thing.
Edit to Add: the “pack” issue has been addressed fully in the comments… and I have acknowledged that the intent was not that of a “pack” as it relates to animal behavior but a “pack” as shorthand for “package.” So before you decide that you will ignore the main thrust of this post to jump on one miscommunication, rethink. It will only make YOU look silly for not reading what wiser minds have said before you.
Not the Best Ambassador
January 25, 2008
Presidential politics and Private school… what have they got in common?
Well, if you’re me, then you’ve been having this frequent conversation about how the next President of the United States must be someone who can restore America to a position in the International community wherein we aren’t perceived as just as scary as “the Bad Guys” and who can somehow regain the trust and good will of our allies.
Foreign policy is a big deal these days – but it’s not as focused on as some of the other political hot topics. Health care, the War in Iraq, taxes, education, economy… those are the buzzwords on the political campaign trail.
But we also all know how much damage the U.S. has taken with regard to our reputation the past 7 years. Not unlike Britney Spears, when the U.S. messes up, it makes all the news sources – worldwide. Life on the front page means that there’s less room for error.
So even though it might not be a good topic for “campaign sound bites” – it certainly is going to be critical for the next President to address the Foreign Policy issues ASAP after his/her inauguration. That means if s/he doesn’t have the most extensive background in International Relations, getting the best ambassadors and advisers in that arena to help out.
Now let me backtrack to my original question – what does that have to do with private school?
Well, if you were bored enough to read my previous lengthy post on the process of applying to private/parochial preschools (seriously? you read all of that?) then you probably got the impression that it’s pretty much a one-sided decision. That would be my error, because the truth is that many folks forget that just like in a job interview, the candidate is also ‘interviewing’ the company and the applicant is ‘considering’ the school.
When trying to narrow down schools to apply to, one of the biggest considerations aside from academics, cost, and location is “would we, as a family, like being a part of this community?”
Now, private schools run the gamut when it comes to student population these days. Gone are the days of strictly white, financially well-off, homogeneous student bodies comprised of offspring wearing the same uniform and using the school campus as a way to avoid the ‘other classes and ethnicities’ by hiding in their enclaves. Most schools strive for diversity and depth. All ethnicities, cultures, and economic classes are represented. Of the schools we opted to apply to, approximately 15% of the students receive financial aid. Even so, it’s still school-to-school when it comes to feeling like you will ‘belong’ there as a family even if you don’t fit the ‘traditional mold’.
The moment of truth, as it were, for finding out where you fall on the spectrum of parental types for each school usually comes during either the school tour, an open house, or the ‘parent socializing’ during the time that your offspring is off interacting with the other potential classmates and the teachers.
The reasons parents opt to send their children to private schools are as myriad and varied as why they choose one vacation over another or why they choose one pediatrician over another. Some actually send their kids there for the status “My Suzie goes to Academy X!” they also tend to drive cars based on name and clothes based on label. Some are academically motivated, some religiously, and some just want to give their children opportunities they didn’t have.
Standing around drinking coffee out of paper cups and ignoring the outlay of pastries while making smalltalk is the best way to find out what the other parents are like. I mean, barring relocation or something, you are likely to spend at least the next 9 years, possibly 13 if it’s a K-12 school, interacting with these folks. If they’re all devout members of a church you don’t attend, or if they all were Debutantes and East Coast preppies, you probably want to know that in advance.
Today was Buttercup’s 5th birthday (yay!! But I’ll address that separately.) This morning was Kindergarten Roundup number two of three. Before today, this school was top on GeekDaddy’s list and doing well on mine. If customer service alone determined where we sent her to school, this one would be it. They have gone over the top with communication, enthusiasm and positivity. She even received a birthday card from them!
But today we got to the campus in freezing temperatures and shuttled Buttercup off to her hour plus of ’roundup’ time and then plunged into the mid-morning parents-trapped-in-a-room-waiting social opportunity.
Oddly, there was no one from the school in the room with the parents. Every place else we have done this, at the very minimum Admissions folk were mingling about keeping tabs on everything. Here, we were just sort of thrown in a room and retrieved an hour later when the kids were done.
Now, I’m used to working rooms socially. Despite a touch of agoraphobia that is ever present, I’ve learned through my past experience how to bring people out and mingle and include the fringes so that eventually everyone is chatting – and that’s exactly what I did. In the absence of a hostess, my little light-switch clicks into the “on” position and I get down to being the social hostess my Nana raised me to be back before I turned down the opportunity to be a Deb. Most of the parents seemed relieved that someone was willing to start the ball rolling, so GeekDaddy (also amazingly good at this, despite his innate geekitude) and I separated and started working the poorly set-up room. Note to the organizer: putting a couple of dozen people in a room with 4 conference tables forming an impenetrable square in the middle of the room is a bad idea. This forces groups to clump in the corners and get stuck unable to go around.
About half way through this process, I was talking to one of the nicest women, who had just moved to the area from Louisville KY. Before I could even get to the point where I mentioned that we had almost ended up relocating there a few years back for GeekDaddy’s company, we were joined by Her.
Her has a name, and while I’ll leave her last name off to respect her privacy, it was oddly inapt that her name was Stephanie. She was the least stereotypical Stephanie I’ve ever met.
What I know, after 30 minutes of being literally trapped by Stephanie is that if I have to spend 9 years in the same school community with that woman, I’m likely to end up criminally liable for something.
If I thought that maybe there was a chance she wouldn’t be there, or that she might not stay if she were, that hope was dashed when she told us repeatedly that she was there for her third son. The other two were in 8th and 4th grade respectively, and the 8th grader had been there since Kindergarten. She has every intention of being there until the 3rd one is off to high school. Ugh.
I could go into detail about why I detested her so – but what’s the point? You know people you detest, and you don’t necessarily have to outline why – you just think ‘ew.’ In this case, just go with the fact that the ‘ew’ factor was strong enough that I found myself starting to goad her. Another potential mom joined us and made a somewhat innocuous comment that she replied to with something snotty. I couldn’t help myself, I found myself saying the exact thing I knew would set her off and at the same time, make her look bad. She rose for the bait and then seemed to catch what I had done and shook her head like a dog trying to get water out of it’s ear. No, she didn’t shake it off. From that point forward, it was the same pattern. She’d snark, I’d pounce, she’d fall for it and look bad, then she’d get snarkier.
No – I don’t need 9 years of that. I’m a generally nice person, but some people do bring out the worst in me and Stephanie is one of them. Best to remove myself from the temptation altogether.
Meanwhile, GeekDaddy got trapped on the other side of the room – due to the strange table configuration – but at least had a nicer conversation. When reunited, he looked at me and said “uh oh… I can tell you’ve got something on your mind. You’re not mad at me, are you?” He’s so sweet! “Nope, not mad at you – but we’ll talk about it later.”
In the end, that school has dropped to the bottom of my list. Because of Stephanie. At one point, one of the other moms asked me about the other 2 schools we had applied to, and before I could get a word in edgewise, Stephanie piped up with “oh they’re not nearly as good as this one – you’re daughter is into the Liberal Arts, right?” Trying not to go too deeply into the fact that no one really knows if a 5 year old is “into Liberal Arts” I replied with “well, yes, she’s got that creative side to her…” and was met with “well, see, then you know this is the right school – those others I’ve heard aren’t as good as this for Liberal Arts…” The Devil made me do it, I swear, as I replied with “huh, you know, my niece has attended one of those schools for10 yeas now, and actually, its Liberal Arts programs are stronger than those here, but there you go…”
True? Maybe, to a point. Define “Liberal Arts” (and no, I can’t hear that in my head without quotes around it now, thanks.)
My point is that for all of its amazing customer service and friendly atmosphere, the school kind of messed up here. Since no one from admissions was in the room – the sole ‘ambassador’ for the school itself was the one person in the room who already had children going there. Was she a good ambassador? No. In fact, I could see she had a similar impact on at least one other mom there. Had this been an event I was actually responsible for, somewhere around the point where I started baiting her, I would’ve dropped over and escorted one of us away to another group saying “Oh, have you met so-and-so? She’s got X in common with you!”
The last of the 3 KR’s is coming up next week. It’s the school my niece attends. This makes the third year we’ve done this part. One of the things I look forward to is watching their head of admissions work the room just like I described above. I’ve seen her do it. I’ve seen her direct one set of parents to another and defuse potential conflicts. Much as I’m still mildly annoyed at them for other reasons, it will be a relief to see that aspect handled professionally.
There’s a part of me that, should we end up not going to school #2, wants to contact the Admissions folk and say “you know, for all you did right, it only took 10 minutes for us to have that image ruined by an obnoxious parent. Maybe you ought to consider doing what school #1 does, and having a question and answer session with the school head and the parents rather than letting them mingle unattended.”
Then again, I guess I benefit from knowing now what I will have in store for me should we go that route.
Now if only it were as simple to figure out which Presidential candidate is savvy enough to not leave our allies alone in a room to talk about us…
What You Didn’t Know About the Private School Kindergarten Process (and neither did we once)
January 15, 2008
There was a point in time where I laughed at sitcoms showing nervous parents trying desperately to get their children into private schools that were tougher in their admissions process than Ivy League colleges. Oh the humor in watching parents jump through ever higher hoops and ever more stressful situations in the hopes of getting little Johnny or Suzy into the ‘right’ preschool or kindergarten!
That was, of course, before GeekDaddy and I gave birth to Buttercup and agreed that we’d sooner cut off our own arms than send her to most public schools.
Given that we don’t live on either coast, I didn’t suspect that we’d be subjected to quite as rigorous a process as might be expected in areas where the wait-lists for preschools start at birth, and a year’s tuition is comparable to a semester at Harvard.
Still, the experience has been enlightening and it has its brighter moments. Or at least, its moments of humor.
This is actually our 3rd year in the process. The first two years involved only one school. In the hopes of avoiding the masses that start showing up at Kindergarten level, we applied to the private school my niece has attended for the past 9 years for preschool when Buttercup was just turning 3 years old. Gritting our teeth and telling ourselves that it was an acceptable price to pay 2 1/2 times the tuition we were already paying at her then preschool if it meant assured enrollment at one of the better schools, we began the dance.
The numbers at 3 and 4 year preschool in terms of applicants versus acceptance at that point was only 8-to-1. Apparently, in Kindergarten, the numbers go up anywhere from 10-to-1 to 25-to-1 or more, depending on the year and the school. I’ve been told from a reliable source that one of the local private schools (where she works) has a 40-to-1 applicant to availability ratio starting with first grade.
Despite everything I won’t bore you with here, we were wait-listed the past 2 years at that school. Buttercup was the first non-sibling, non-faculty-member’s-child, girl on that wait-list. If she had been a boy, apparently, she would’ve gotten in. But as it was, we breathed a sigh of relief at not having to pay the tuition for a couple more years, and still having the familiarity with that school. At least because she was wait-listed, we don’t have to pay the application fee again, just say “yep, put us in the pool for this year…” and get her teacher recommendation and go.
But this year has been a little different. And by ‘different’ I mean ‘more stressful.’ Most of the private schools around here pretty much start accepting kids at 5 years old. Whether K-8 or K-12, they leave the preschool to ‘feeder’ schools and the big influx starts at kindergarten. So we began the process as early as we could – starting the investigations of the potential schools last Spring.
After much research, we narrowed the field down to 5 schools to tour in the Fall, and after touring – 3 to apply to. I’ll spare you the details on how that was decided – but suffice to say, even when you are just ‘touring’ the schools pre-application, there is much scrutiny on the part of the school as to whether or not you are the type of family they would welcome an application from or not.
Of course the vetting process begins long before the formal application/interview/selection process does. From the first moment you are on the phone with an Admissions person, you are being assessed. No, not your child – you. Private schools aren’t all about the child, you see. They are also about the family. Unlike public schools, private schools rely on a sense of community to further their school’s success. Tuition doesn’t cover the actual costs of running these schools – there are fund-raisers, donations, and fees as well. It’s important to have a community of families that is willing to work together to make sure the school thrives. Much of the process is about the prospective student, but believe me when I tell you that the parents are just as scrutinized.
Late September and early October begins the touring process. In most cases, this means both parents coming in to meet with someone in Admissions and get shown the campus (sans child) and have the school’s philosophies, practices, and environment explained. This might be done with or without the child (mostly without) and it might be just you, or you might be grouped with another couple or two, depending on the number of applicants. In October and November come the Open Houses. Despite having already toured the campus, parents show up (again, whether or not child-friendly depends on the school) and re-tour it with large hordes of other parents. This is done when they can meet with faculty and administrative types and wander about ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ when the children aren’t busy using the facilities themselves.
Once the touring and Open House hopping is done, parents must begin the application process. This means pages of applications filled out, teacher recommendation forms delivered to the current teacher(s) with stamped envelopes and instructions to return them in December (after they’ve had time to get to know the child), photos, parent statements, and if you have a child over 1st grade applying, testing.
Oh, and check-writing. Did I forget to mention the check-writing? Even here in the middle of the country each school has a ‘non-refundable application fee’ that is anywhere from $35-$150 but averaging about $75 per school. This makes sense when you realize that it keeps the number of ‘well let’s just apply to all of them and then decide later’ types down. But it still kind of hurts to write a check to a school that might never even consider letting your child go there, or knowing that it’s just money that you spent as a backup in case your first choice didn’t come through.
January. Ah, January! We’re in January now – and this is when the dance starts in earnest. At this point, we have gotten all of the applications, teacher recommendations, checks, photos, statements and whatnot completed. And so begin the “Kindergarten Roundups.”
If the term “roundup” conjures to mind a cattle-drive, I suspect that is not entirely unintended. These are group dates – wherein all those little would-be Kindergarteners come and visit the classrooms and the prospective teachers (and other evaluators) en masse. This is to see how your little Suzy or Johnny interacts in the classroom environment. It’s all well and good that you said on your application that your child was not only as brilliant as Einstein, s/he was also as angelic as Mother Teresa, and as sweet as honey… and that your child’s present teacher wrote glowing lines bordering on poetry about how s/he was a delight to teach and the light of each day… They want to actually see whether or not Johnny or Suzy is prone to eating glue, kicking other children in the shins, or emulating their favorite WWF character.
My heart goes out to some of these kids when we do this. It’s clear that there’s always a handful who are terrified when they face this ordeal. Clearly, they’d rather be anywhere other than a classroom full of prettily dressed but terrifyingly unknown other children vying for coveted spots in this school. To say that we’re lucky is an understatement. Buttercup seems to have a knack for this sort of thing and is her own best ambassador. We’ve watched her walk over to a crying child trying desperately to cling to her parents’ legs in hope of not being left and say directly in front of the teachers “it’s okay, this will be fun, why don’t you come play with me? Look, here’s a horse!” Wilting violet she is not.
However, whilst the children are being corralled at said roundup, the parents are lead elsewhere on the campus. There’s always coffee and food involved. Sometimes there’s a presentation. Sometimes there’s just socializing with the other parents. Sometimes it’s a Q&A session with the head of admissions or the Headmaster of the school. Again, depends on the school. But let not the unwary drop his or her guard! This is yet another time for someone at the school to assess the parents. Who showed up? Just Mom? Both parents? Are they talking to anyone? Are they staying at the fringes?
In some cases (but not all) there is yet another step – the ‘parent interview.’ We’ve been through 2 of these now – one 3 years ago at school number one – and one today, at school number two of the three. This is definitely a non-child event, and requires both parents to be there if there is more than one parent.
The ostensible purpose of this is that you, the parents will ’shed further light’ on the nature of your darling offspring. Having read your application, parents’ statement, and seen your child in action – you will be asked questions to help them to get a better picture of your potential scholar. Essentially? It’s a job interview. But you’re being asked more about your child than yourself.
Don’t get me wrong here – these people know what they are doing – they do it every year. They learn quite a bit about you without asking about you directly. Questions like “how do you spend your time together when you are with your child? Would you say it’s structured or unstructured?” tell more about your parenting style than the child’s readiness for kindergarten.
The thing is – whenever we’re there, going through these arcane processes and hoop-jumping, I can’t help but be reminded of those sitcoms I mentioned above. It makes me laugh… and you know, laughter is a good thing. It reminds you that while none of us like to feel that we are being judged and perhaps found wanting, at least there’s some good to be gleaned from the experience.
Apparently, most parents forget to laugh in their driven determination to assist their offspring in overcoming the competition and gaining the coveted invitation to enroll. I know this because every time we end up laughing or kidding around, there’s sort of this awestruck look on the face of those on the other side of the equation. I suspect they are far too used to dealing with tense, stressed-out parents on a regular basis – and not unlike traffic cops who are always met with anything other than friendliness when they pull someone over – they get accustomed to steeling themselves against the waves of emotional turmoil emanating from prospective parents. When met with genuine laughter and humor, there’s usually an initial look of confusion replaced by relief.
Take, to whit, what happened on our way out of School #2 today. We were leaving just as school was letting out for the day – and so, ensconced in a heaving mass of scurrying schoolchildren, we found ourselves coming out the front door of the main building just as the Headmaster was coming in.
He greeted us warmly (points to him for remembering!) and said “oh! Are you here for the interview? How did it go? “
I looked at him and said, wryly “Oh, fairly well – probably would’ve gone better if we hadn’t spilled coffee all over her and called her names there at the end…”
Which warranted me a confused smile and a momentary pause, until GeekDaddy chimed in deadpan with “Yep, fortunately, we were able to keep the Tourret Syndrome under control this time!”
The Headmaster looked back and forth at us, caught the gleam in our eyes and the grins starting to form that we couldn’t help and burst out laughing himself. “A sense of humor!” he said, “That’s a very good thing to have around here… Very good!”
And we smiled and replied “and we’re glad to find out that you have one as well, sir!” and took our leave.
Next week, school #3 – the Catholic one. Should be fun.
Twittering, Rhymes With Frittering – Is That Where My Time Goes?
January 14, 2008
I know I promised to move on to Seesmic soon – and I will, just as soon as I dredge through the backlog of other things I said I’d blog about. You’ll have to forgive me – I’m not even up to blogging consistently here yet. I still haven’t quite found my voice here, or the direction (plural?) that this space will be taking. It’s rather an organic blog as yet.
That said, there has been a lot of discussion on Twitter lately about the nature of Twitter itself. And I just have this burning desire to write a bit more about it, so I’m giving in to temptation and taking a few moments to indulge myself. I suppose it’s less fattening that conceding to my craving for chocolate, so we’ll pretend it’s okay.
Laura Fitton, also known as Pistachi, posted a blog last week talking about Twitter as a Village that struck a chord with many of us. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more resistant I am to the “village” analogy, and the more stuck I am on the cocktail party analogy I presented awhile back here.
You see, the word ‘village’ to me has connotations I’m not sure I really want to associate with Twitter. Villages are small communities. Twitter is an ever-growing network of thousands. Villages have identities. Twitter is about as schitzophrenic as it gets.
In my travels, I’ve noted that the smaller the community, the more tight-knit it becomes. It’s hard to move into a small community. They are fearful of outsiders and resistant to change. New & different is pretty much viewed as scary & bad. But one of the things that appeals so much to me about the community on Twitter is that it is exactly the opposite.
Six months ago, before I joined, I knew maybe a dozen or two of the folks currently listed on my Twitterpage. Certainly, I knew of many of the folk I follow now – because many of the leaders in the Social Media and Web 2.0 arenas are on Twitter. But talk to them? Interact with them? Have dialogues? Nope.
The reason I likened Twitter to a cocktail party wasn’t the level of conversation… it was the accessibility. There are literally dozens of conversations going on in my timeline feed every day. They vary in depth from tech news, to politics, to television shows or movies, to personal events, to outright playful silliness. I find that reading my timeline is rapidly replacing scanning headlines for important news. Where I used to pull up Reuters.com, I now first listen to what my Twitterpals are discussing. It might be football. It might be a situation in the Middle East. It might be who has the best new dance video on Seesmic. Whatever it is, if it’s blogged about concisely somewhere – or streamed – someone will link to it. But more than that, a discussion will arise over it.
I like the playful tone that Shel Israel (and others) have taken over things like “Who should be the Mayor of Twitter?” but I like best that there is no hierarchy. You might sign up today, start following some of the more ‘popular’ Twitterfolk, and find that in a very short time you come to know them as people you really care about. Friendships are forged there in brief conversations.
I do understand the appeal to define it as a village - as it sure is nice to know your Twitter neighbors, and to have a good chat with them at the 140 character fencepost – but I’m a stubborn sort, and prefer to shy away from the negative connotations of the term as well. Twitterville (as some have taken to calling it) isn’t filled with wary townsfolk who give strangers a leery look when first they appear – it’s full of fun, chatty, interesting, intelligent folk who put the “social” in Social Media. If you’re willing to make with the conversation, and to listen to the songs being sung around you, you’ll find it quite the nicest party you’ve been to in a long time.
It’s True – It is Another Planet
January 2, 2008
Buttercup is going through a “What if?” stage. Granted, she’s also going through a “repeat everything Mommy says to see if you can annoy her” phase, but I’ve already figured out how to defeat that strategy, and it’s not relevant to this post.
So, anyhoo… What if…
“Mommy. What if you had 20 hands and I had 100 hands and you had 20 feet and I had 100 feet?”
“Mommy. What if tomorrow the school opens but they don’t tell us and everyone goes but me?”
“Mommy. What if when I go to sleep I forget how to dream and then can’t see fairies in my dreams?”
“Mommy. What if on my birthday I don’t get older but I turn into a baby instead?”
Apparently this happens to GeekDaddy as well. Last night he was telling me about his reply to this – something to do with “Buttercup. What if white fuzzy bunnies came and took over the Earth?” Evidently her answer was that we’d have to move.
This afternoon, after a dozen or so “Mommy. What if…” statements I looked at her and said “Buttercup. What if white fuzzy bunnies came and took over the Earth?”
On cue she said “We’d have to move to another planet.”
“Another planet?” I said, “What other planet?”
Without missing a beat she replied “Mommy… California.”
Well yep, that made sense to me.
First Post of the New Year, Last Funny Story of the Old
January 1, 2008
Earlier tonight:
Buttercup: Yay!! New Year’s at last!! Yay!! Mommy… it is New Year’s tomorrow, right?
Me: Yes dear. Tonight is New Year’s Eve, and tomorrow is New Year’s Day. Tomorrow is the first day of 2008.
Buttercup: I can’t wait!!
Me: (suspicious) Um, can’t wait for what? What exactly are you expecting to happen on New Year’s Day?
Buttercup: We get toast!!
Me: Toast?
Buttercup: New Year’s Toast! Yum!!!
This set GeekDaddy and I into gales of laughter before we explained to my darling Buttercup that the ‘clinking’ thing we do with our glasses is toasting. Apparently, my child, who hates bread and has never eaten toast to save her soul was under the impression that there was some sort of “magical, new, and different” New Year’s Toast that she would be partaking of tomorrow.
I really hated to let her down.
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