First Person

Parent blog: Why the wait for class lists?

In this Confessions of a Partially Proficient Parent blog post, Julie Poppen, an editor and writer for Education News Colorado and the mother of a fifth-grader in the Boulder Valley School District, questions the last-minute posting of class lists at her daughter’s school.

The wait is over. At precisely 1 p.m. the day before school started this week, we found out what teacher my daughter has and who her classmates will be.

Families showing up for the first day of school.

I don’t know how it happens at your school but the parking lot of my daughter’s Boulder campus was full, cars jockeyed for spaces, kids jammed their bikes in the racks, and throngs of parents and kids milled about for several minutes before the door was officially opened. The energy in the air was by turns nervous  and excited.

My daughter, now officially a fifth-grader, had trouble sleeping the night before “the list” was posted.  It’s only posted for an hour, by the way, so if you miss this window you better have a stand-in check it for you because the front office won’t tell you. It’s confidential – so confidential that the entire school community can enter the school and see it during that precious 60-minute period.

Question: Why can’t schools publish this information – or even inform parents by e-mail – much earlier in the summer?

Let’s face it, the beginning of any school year is pretty stressful for kids and parents. Transitions are hard for most families. The daily schedule is tossed on its head. Students must adapt to structure once again and yet another teacher’s expectations. Teachers must get used to 30 new personalities and learning styles.

Now I realize these lists probably get tweaked up until the bitter end. And I also know the school leaders don’t want to give us parents too much time to make a stink if we aren’t happy with our child’s class placement.

But put the kids at the top of this equation for a minute. The start of school would be much less anxiety-producing if a child had several weeks – or hey, even a few days – to digest the knowledge of who her teacher would be, and maybe even the names of some of her classmates. Then the throngs of people could show up the day before school with that knowledge and with the sole intent of meeting the teacher in a relaxed fashion.

Meanwhile, it seems teachers are given a bit more time to mull over his or her class roster. When we showed up in my daughter’s new classroom, the teacher addressed students by name. I was impressed and am expecting a great year. I just wish my daughter had had the same opportunity to get her head around the beginning of her final year of elementary school.

I’d love to hear from some teachers and principals about this last-minute, list-posting phenomenon.

First Person

With roots in Cuba and Spain, Newark student came to America to ‘shine bright’

PHOTO: Patrick Wall
Layla Gonzalez

This is my story of how we came to America and why.

I am from Mallorca, Spain. I am also from Cuba, because of my dad. My dad is from Cuba and my grandmother, grandfather, uncle, aunt, and so on. That is what makes our family special — we are different.

We came to America when my sister and I were little girls. My sister was three and I was one.

The first reason why we came here to America was for a better life. My parents wanted to raise us in a better place. We also came for better jobs and better pay so we can keep this family together.

We also came here to have more opportunities — they do call this country the “Land Of Opportunities.” We came to make our dreams come true.

In addition, my family and I came to America for adventure. We came to discover new things, to be ourselves, and to be free.

Moreover, we also came here to learn new things like English. When we came here we didn’t know any English at all. It was really hard to learn a language that we didn’t know, but we learned.

Thank God that my sister and I learned quickly so we can go to school. I had a lot of fun learning and throughout the years we do learn something new each day. My sister and I got smarter and smarter and we made our family proud.

When my sister Amira and I first walked into Hawkins Street School I had the feeling that we were going to be well taught.

We have always been taught by the best even when we don’t realize. Like in the times when we think we are in trouble because our parents are mad. Well we are not in trouble, they are just trying to teach us something so that we don’t make the same mistake.

And that is why we are here to learn something new each day.

Sometimes I feel like I belong here and that I will be alright. Because this is the land where you can feel free to trust your first instinct and to be who you want to be and smile bright and look up and say, “Thank you.”

As you can see, this is why we came to America and why we can shine bright.

Layla Gonzalez is a fourth-grader at Hawkins Street School. This essay is adapted from “The Hispanic American Dreams of Hawkins Street School,” a self-published book by the school’s students and staff that was compiled by teacher Ana Couto.

First Person

From ‘abandoned’ to ‘blessed,’ Newark teacher sees herself in her students

PHOTO: Patrick Wall
Jennifer Palumbo

As I sit down to write about my journey to the USA, all I can think of is the word “blessed.”

You see my story to become Ms. Palumbo started as a whole other person with a different name in a different country. I was born in Bogota, Colombia, but my parents either could not keep me or did not want me. I was, according to my adoption papers, “abandoned.” Abandoned is defined as “having been deserted or cast off.” Not a great start to my story, I know.

Well I was then put in an orphanage for children who had no family. Yes at this point I had no family, no home, not even a name.
I spent the first 10 months of my life in this orphanage. Most children at 10 months are crawling, trying to talk, holding their bottles, and some are even walking. Since I spent 10 months laying in a crib, I did none of those things.

Despite that my day to be chosen arrived. I was adopted by an Italian American couple who, after walking up and down rows of babies and children, chose to adopt me. My title just changed from abandoned to chosen.

But that wasn’t the only thing about to change. My first baby passport to leave Colombia is with the name given by the orphanage to an abandoned baby girl with no one. When I arrived in America my parents changed that name to Jennifer Marie Palumbo and began my citizenship and naturalization paperwork so I could become an U.S. citizen.

They tried to make a little Colombian girl an Italian American, so I was raised speaking only English. Eating lots of pasta and living a typical American lifestyle. But as I grew up I knew there was something more — I was something more.

By fourth grade, I gravitated to the Spanish girls that moved into town and spent many after-schools and sleepovers looking to understand who I was. I began to learn how to dance to Spanish music and eat Spanish foods.

I would try to speak and understand the language the best I could even though I could not use it at home. In middle school, high school, and three semesters at Kean University, I studied Spanish. I traveled to Puerto Rico, Mexico, and Honduras to explore Spanish culture and language. I finally felt like the missing piece of my puzzle was filled.

And then the opportunity to come to Hawkins Street School came and as what — a bilingual second-grade teacher. I understood these students in a way that is hard to explain.

They are like me but in a way backwards.

They are fluent in Spanish and hungry to obtain fluency in English to succeed in the world. I was fluent in English with a hunger to obtain it in Spanish to succeed in the world. I feel as a child I lost out.

My road until now has by far not been an easy one, but I am a blessed educated Hispanic American. I know that my road is not over. There are so many places to see, so many food to taste, and so many songs to dance too.

I thank my students over the past four years for being such a big part of this little “abandoned” baby who became a “chosen” child grown into a “blessed teacher.” They fill my heart and I will always be here to help them have a blessed story because the stars are in their reach no matter what language barrier is there.

We can break through!

Palumbo is a second-grade bilingual teacher Hawkins Street School. This essay is from “The Hispanic American Dreams of Hawkins Street School,” a self-published book by the school’s students and staff that was compiled by teacher Ana Couto.