World’s Worst Mom Week End, Part 3: Racist Frustrations

On Friday, I tried for a hail-mary pass to try to get Kelly into the presumably (but not guaranteed as such) better environment of the magnet school she was waitlisted for. Peter, ever the optimist, thought there might be merit in keeping Kelly within the district until after Christmas, when more places at the magnet school might open up.

After all, the economy is slowing, and construction jobs are likely to dry up. That could mean a lot of local families–particularly those being aggressively recruited into the magnet schools– may be returning to live in Mexico at Christmastime. And yes, I am a nasty, screwed-up, foul racist for supposing so, but I’m also a disgusting elitist for not wanting my daughter in the classroom of the living dead, and I’m already going to hell for having put her there. So call me anything you want, but I love my children, and I do resent having them put into substandard positions for political reasons.

I called a teacher at the school who we’d adored, and who we know had liked us and Neil. But she didn’t call back, and even if she did, I doubt she could have done more than give me a shoulder to cry on.

I called the district’s assignment center and asked them, with my daughter currently being #34 on the waiting list, what her odds are, if any, of getting to the magnet school during this school year. They told me my chances were next to nil. Anyone left is someone still holding out hope, like me. And I do suspect if someone more “worthy” of placement, for reasons of ethnicity, income, or neighborhood, gets added to the list, they’ll quietly get moved in.

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