September 01, 2014
A Finely Woven Tapestry
It's been a tough couple weeks. T's schedule worked out with the school pulling strings and letting him take classes online that would not fit into his schedule . It's not the best solution, but it's better than he not get his classes.
Bones... it has been a horrific year to start. I'm still nervous, but if it works out, I understand why.
He got his schedule and it appeared that someone just shoved him in classes. It didn't help that he failed the Algebra EOC... AGAIN. And unbeknownst to us, he had an anxiety attack during the reading portion of the FCAT and failed it.
Even though he reads on a college level.
So they put him in remedial reading and remedial math. That would be on top of the other screw ups.
My hands are tied. There is nothing I can do for him for the math until he passes the EOC and he may be able to get out of reading if the State ever gets their act together to get him to test out.
It was supposed to be last week. Time is ticking. Now we don't know what will happen.
Meanwhile, he's not singing. They didn't give him any vocal classes.
At the beginning, when all this happened, he went into a deep depression. It was bad enough that I was concerned. He holed himself up in his room and read. (He's reading the Glass Castle.) Meanwhile, I was emailing the vocal teacher and guidance and was getting nowhere.
I got a call last week from guidance finally. She said that Bones was in a good place and that the last time she's seen him, he'd been on total freak out. But this time he was good and he understood he couldn't stay in the class some jerk gave him that is for Seniors... even though he loved the Seniors.
And that is when she said, "I'm going to put him in Spanish." It was not our path. Bones was supposed to take French. I can help him with French. I cannot help him with Spanish.
She checked and said the teacher was good and we got buy in from Bones.
And this is where the path ends up taking an odd turn...
Bones walked into his Spanish class, a class he was never supposed to take, a class we fit in because his schedule was so screwed up even guidance didn't get it.
The Spanish teacher looked at him and said, "Bones Russo". (I used a different last name in my husband's family... not our real name.)
Bones looked up and said, "Yes."
She continued, "Are... you the grandson of Lucia Russo?"
And for those who do not remember, my mother in law, died 14 years ago, while leading the Rosary, on the altar, of the local Catholic Church. She had a stroke right there and died. Bones was 6 months old.
Bones replied, "Yes, that was my grandmother."
She got silent and then said, "Bones. I knew your grandmother. I taught with her at JD Middle School. She was my best friend."
And here is the thing... Bones never wanted to take Spanish. He is not going to do well. Languages are going to be tough for him. I had hoped to help him along.
But, deep down, I think that all this happened because Spanish was an inevitability and Ma is looking out for her grandson.
In the end, the hardest class he will take this year... is being taught by her best friend.
Hear the Voices»
Wow. Amazing how things work out.posted by vwbug on September 2, 2014 04:25 AM
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