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| A trip on the new 2nd Ave Subway after his interview at Hunter |
After reading about my son’s miraculous transformation into a meowing kitty the exact morning of an important school interview months ago, some of you have been asking, “How’s Peter? Meow.”
Peter’s great. Really great. His mom and I, however, are kind of a wreck. I've spent the last three days stress-eating an entire platter full of homemade lemon bars. "You didn't save me one?!?!" The baker-in-charge and my beloved wife asked me tonight. My bad?
Peter’s great. Really great. His mom and I, however, are kind of a wreck. I've spent the last three days stress-eating an entire platter full of homemade lemon bars. "You didn't save me one?!?!" The baker-in-charge and my beloved wife asked me tonight. My bad?
The search for Kindergarten in NYC is not for those easily wearied. Sarah and I have visited 21 schools, and about half of those 2 or 3 additional times each. Peter had his share of visits too.
We counted 10 “playdates”–a slightly weird and inaccurate term that the private schools use for these evaluation sessions. Generally speaking, upon arrival, parents are herded into a conference room, while our children are whisked away, brought into rooms (that we can only assume are actual, or closely resemble, classrooms), where they spend 45-120 minutes being the perfect combination of unquestionably charming, obviously brilliant and decidedly desirable to an audience of school teachers and administrators.
But let me repeat. PETER HAS BEEN GREAT. He’s always first in line, remembers to ask the new-to-him teachers if he can wear his Santa hat, and comes back after "class" ready for the next adventure.
We don’t know exactly what happens in these mock classes. Peter, for all his charms, is still a frustratingly terrible historian. And the schools either tell you nothing about what happened, or bore you with vague details (trust me, "vague details" is a thing) that mean nothing.
And so, YOU MUST USE THE FORCE. Or come up with an impossibly specific question about a scenario you can only imagine....that a kid will also answer. So, yeah, just go ahead and use The Force. It’s easier.
And so, YOU MUST USE THE FORCE. Or come up with an impossibly specific question about a scenario you can only imagine....that a kid will also answer. So, yeah, just go ahead and use The Force. It’s easier.
On a chilly Saturday in January we embarked upon the GREATEST TEST OF THEM ALL. Hunter College Elementary School. Hunter is a selective K-12 public school with a progressive educational philosophy that has the resources of NYC private schools that cost upwards of $45,000 a year. If I had gone there, for example, I might not need a calculator app to tell you that getting in is like winning $585,000 lottery ticket. Or I might be performing on Broadway like alumnus Lin-Manuel Miranda. Because Hunter is magic. Obviously.
Given the high-stakes of this particular school interview, we briefly thought about asking him to keep the Santa hat he had been wearing all day, all night, every day since the 26th of December at home.
But we couldn't. We wouldn't. Peter is his own person, packed with an adventurous, bold personality that frequently has us questioning from where exactly he came. We love that he spent weeks after Christmas asking if we like this or that then proudly exclaiming, "My elves made that!" We only hoped that the teachers at Hunter would be charmed by the boy with the Santa hat too.
Given the high-stakes of this particular school interview, we briefly thought about asking him to keep the Santa hat he had been wearing all day, all night, every day since the 26th of December at home.
But we couldn't. We wouldn't. Peter is his own person, packed with an adventurous, bold personality that frequently has us questioning from where exactly he came. We love that he spent weeks after Christmas asking if we like this or that then proudly exclaiming, "My elves made that!" We only hoped that the teachers at Hunter would be charmed by the boy with the Santa hat too.
Because this is no ordinary admissions process. It’s Thunderdome. Thousands apply, and only a few hundred 4-year-olds pass the Stanford-Binet V test and are invited to round two interviews.
Can't make your interview date? TOO BAD. NO HUNTER FOR YOU. Arrive a few minutes late (as we heard one poor parent did that Saturday). TOO BAD. NO HUNTER FOR YOU.
Can't make your interview date? TOO BAD. NO HUNTER FOR YOU. Arrive a few minutes late (as we heard one poor parent did that Saturday). TOO BAD. NO HUNTER FOR YOU.
It’s cut-throat. After my wife and I shared a brief and genuine moment of sympathy for the tardy parent, I wondered, did she come with a boy or girl? Because only 25 boys and 25 girls get spots in the school, and one less boy in the mix is good for us.
Hey, did I mention, IT’S THUNDERDOME?!?! Actually, it's worse.
“Six men enter, one man leaves. SIX men enter, ONE man leaves.”
Regardless of how it turns out. We are both so incredibly proud of how our meowing, Santa Claus hat-wearing son has been handling all of this.
