Enotes

Labor Day was always my least favorite holiday. I'm sure I was hardly alone. Of course, I'm talking about when I was a kid, and so just about every other kid likely joined me in that sentiment. Labor Day meant the unofficial end to summer, though the calendar says that the season runs until September 21. No matter. The calendar didn't give us kids that long; classes in Livonia, where I grew up, always commenced the day after Labor Day. It was a final three-day weekend before the baseball mitts and swimming suits were to go back into mothballs, in favor of notebooks, pencils and rulers. There was one day of excitement, however, in the weeks leading up to the first day of school, and that was the day the class lists would be posted in the school window by the front door. This was for grade school, not beyond. I'm not sure how we found out that the lists were posted. Probably some sort of loosely designated sentry or Paul Revere type would spread the word. This w...

Timberlake Christian School (TCS) in western Virginia buried the lead in their letter to the guardian of eight-year-old Sunnie Kahle. The last sentence was the most true and the most telling. "We believe that unless Sunnie as well as her family clearly understand that God has made her female and her dress and behavior need to follow suit with her God-ordained indentity, that TCS is not the best place for her future education." No kidding, it's not the best place for Sunnie's future education. Like, I'd pull that child out of there yesterday. Sunnie is an eight-year-old girl, but by her own admission and her grandmother's (Sunnie's legal guardian) own acknowledgement, Sunnie likes a lot of "boy stuff"---such as autographed baseballs and hunting knives, according to CBS-TV affiliate WDBJ. But Sunnie also digs jewelry and stuffed animals, too. "It's fun," Sunnie says of her varied interests ---some of which don't seem ...

I don't know that I have ever been more frightened in my life, as I was when I had to sell candy bars. I was 11 years old. It was a school-related fundraiser, natch, I believe for an after school program I was involved in where my grade school partnered with the YMCA. They sent a bunch of us munchkins out to sell candy bars---door-to-door. The bars came in cardboard boxes with convenient handles. Yippee. So I'm 11 and I'm going door-to-door, unescorted, and you could never get away with this now. Can you imagine the dangers in today's world of sending children to strange people's houses? Of course, those dangers were there in 1974, but I suppose we didn't pay as much attention. Or maybe the world wasn't as mentally bent then as it is now. Anyhow, I hated the gig. I had a script I was supposed to follow, but I'm sure I strayed from it---like, as soon as the door opened. I'm sure I mumbled something about candy bars and supporting us, and t...

Our daughter, a high school senior, gets to watch movies in class on occasion. I can tell you two things: the films are a lot more entertaining than the celluloid we viewed in my day; and yet I kind of pity her, because the whole movie watching thing for her is rather humdrum. I shall explain. Anyone over the age of 40 should remember what it was like when there was going to be a movie shown in class that day. It was a big deal. Who can forget the rumble of the big cart rolling down the hallway, on which was the seemingly huge film projector, being wheeled into the classroom by the "A/V geek," who was nothing more than a fellow student who somehow wrangled his way into such a gig. Then the anticipation of the movie itself, which wasn't a feature film like the kids in school are privileged to view nowadays. Rather, it was very instructional in nature---like about science or social studies, etc. Perhaps it was a movie about how we use oxygen in everyday life. Or how they ma...

A less scrupulous parent might encourage his daughter to drop out of high school before her senior year. Or a poor one. I'm about to be the latter, because I'm not the former. Confused? Sorry. Our daughter is entering her senior year of high school, or as it's otherwise known to parents, The Shakedown. The schools have us senior parents between a rock and a hard place, and don't think they don't know it. My wife registered our daughter this morning for the school year, and being a senior is not only a very special year, it's also very expensive. There are the senior photos, of course. Those were taken this summer and while the proofs are absolutely beautiful, the packages begin at over $500. I graduated high school in 1981, and I remember making a very understated trip to the Olan Mills studio in Livonia in the summer of 1980 with my polyester, three-piece suit and a comb. We snapped a few head shots and I was probably on my way back ...

I'm not a fan of football played under the lights, as a rule. And it has nothing to do with the Lions being shunned by "Monday Night Football" every year. I know it's done for the almighty TV dollar, but night college football games especially rankle me---especially those played on days other than Saturday. College football games have been popping up all over the dial on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays. That's not college football---that's just competitive "ER". But there is some night football that tickles my fancy. As the parent of a marching band member, one of the duties is to attend the home football games on Friday nights. There are far more daunting tasks. High school football in prime time is OK by me because that's tradition. Once the stadiums around the country began installing lights in earnest in the 1960s, it was only natural to keep the high school gridders to a predominantly Friday schedule, and leave Saturday for college and Sunda...

Allow me to toot the horn of my alma mater for a second. Maybe you've seen the billboards, or read it in the newspaper. (Does anyone read newspapers anymore?) By billboard, you'll notice it by the three big, fat zeroes under the words Tuition, Room, and Board. Eastern Michigan University, my haunts circa 1981-85, is doing something no Michigan university has done in some 25 years. It's holding its rates of tuition, room and board flat for the 2010-11 school year, from the current year. They're calling it the "Big, Fat Zero" campaign . This after one of the smallest rate hikes in the state last year---just 3.82 percent. "We recognize how desirable an affordable, quality college education is," EMU President Sue Martin said. "I applaud the Board of Regents for taking this necessary risk." The "risk," of course, is financial on EMU's part. A zero percent increase means you can't count on additional dollars in the budgeting pro...

I'm willing to meet Mike Feinberg halfway, but I'm not so sure the feeling would be mutual. Feinberg is co-founder of the Knowledge is Power Program (KIPP), as well as being the superintendent of KIPP Houston. KIPP is a network of 82 high-performing public charter schools serving 21,000 children in 19 states. Feinberg's program is rooted in the premise that the school day is too short. And the school year, too. But Feinberg takes it to another level. His KIPP schools' classes run from 7:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., and the kids attend school two Saturdays a month, and they have three weeks of mandatory summer school. Feinberg has a gob of stats that say his extended school days and years are the best thing since sliced bread. You can read that laundry list in his editorial for CNN.com . I'm a parent, so I'm concerned about my child's education as well. But I have different concerns than Feinberg, I think. You see, I'm also a former child, as I'm pretty sur...

It's been said that the only thing that could survive a nuclear holocaust is the cockroach. That, and the Warren Consolidated Schools. I suspect that Warren Con, as it's so aptly called for short, would steadfastly refuse to shutter its doors even as nuclear winter rained down and the air was as toxic as a Rush Limbaugh/Glenn Beck lunch. Over 420 school districts said "forget it" this morning, as a winter storm bulled its way through the metro Detroit area overnight and throughout much of the day today. Big districts, little districts, and the ones in between--they all decided to live to teach another day. Not Warren Con. They've pulled this nonsense before, and as you've guessed by now I have a child in that district. For whatever reason--maybe a curious, strange desire to be known as the District Least Likely to Close for the Day--Warren Con has been stubborn in the face of snowstorms, extreme cold, and ice. They're more bullheaded than the U.S. Mail in ...

As a child/youngster/youth, if there was anything better than finding out school was canceled, then it was most likely something you'll never own up to publicly. There might be a "snow day" on Wednesday---and not just for the kids. Some of the big people might get the day off, too. It's nothing like what's been going on along the Mid-Atlantic Seaboard, which has been pelted relentlessly since late last week, but the folks who should know are calling for anywhere between six and ten inches of the white stuff to cover us between Tuesday and Wednesday. You remember the moment, I'm sure---the precise moment when you heard that school was called off for that day. It was early, early morning---likely before 7:30---and you begrudgingly got ready for school despite the blizzardy conditions outside. Grumbling, you pulled on your clothes and trudged with a snarl to the kitchen for breakfast. Or, you were still in bed, stubbornly refusing to even consider going to school...

The day after Labor Day. Time for those three little words. Back to school. Three words that inspire either angst or elation---or retail dollar signs, depending on your perspective. Back to school. Another school year has officially begun---some districts began before Labor Day---and with it comes nine more months of the unknown. For the parents of a 16-year-old girl---that would include my wife and me---the next nine months are likely to be a roller coaster ride. Driver's ed somewhere out on the horizon. Boys. Teachers. Catty girls. Homework up the ying-yang (and if you've ever had homework up the ying-yang, you know how painful that can be). Back to school. The alarm clock gets set again for 6:00 a.m. Another nine months of trying to get the kids to eat breakfast---you'll even settle for cold pizza from the fridge if that's the ticket. Our daughter's stomach doesn't open for business in the wee hours, so we're thinking about buying her an IV. (Just kidding...