Had lengthy email convo with art department head at Neo's high school re: admission to advanced art class.
He agreed to look over her portfolio and said she's most likely be a good fit for "Art 2" or possibly for AP Studio Art, which is a two-year class.
Being a good mommie, I took her art portfolio to school during her lunch break and sat in the office while she was meeting with art department head.
She returned saying she could get in to AP Studio Art, and that he was a good teacher and gave her good feedback on her work, but oh yeah. "I can't take this art class next year anyway. They took away the second elective period, so it's language or art, but not both."
Holy crap. She's absolutely right.
I've spent hours looking over her schedule and devising schedules for outgoing years. To fulfill UC admittance requirements, she can take either three years of language (recommended by UC) OR three years of art (as designed by the art department), but she can't take both. Oh, and she'll never be able to take AP Bio, taught by her favorite teacher, if she takes the right amount of language. She could take language over the summer at a community college, but then she can't take any art classes over the summer.
I agree with my husband -- what is the point of advocating for these kids when all they end up with is a mediocre education anyway. I wish I could afford private school for them. Blergh.
In other news. I had a great experience with Saul the other day. He's taking part in a large group class at the elementary school his special program is aligned with. In other words, he's mainstreaming one class every day. He loves it.
We went to the bookfair the other day. We haven't been to a school function with him in at least two years, certainly not the bookfair staffed by snoopy fussbudget mommies who made his life miserable at his old school. As we're heading out the door with our purchases, the parent volunteer standing in the doorway, a dad, stops him.
"Hey Saul. How you doing? You like the book fair?"
"Uh HUH! It was great!"
"That's so neat. Hey, are you coming back here next year, or are you off to middle school?"
"I think I'm going to middle school."
"Makes sense; you're too smart for us anyway. We're so proud to have you here." Then, turning to me as Saul skipped out of earshot over the blacktop, "He's a great kid. So SMART. I'm so happy I met him this year." I could only nod because I was very close to crying. It was such a small thing to do, to acknowledge him. And I only noticed it because it just never happened at the old place.