But since I understand what isn’t better than what is I remember this: her tiny pink cheeks and brown eyes wedged between the slats and her fists clenched like a prisoner on the black bars of the kindergarten play yard fence.
The teacher sighs, this battle between her & Beach is now 2 ½ hours old, “I suppose they could, but Beach we are working on our vocabulary not grouping.”
Beach corrects her, “But those aren’t words they are pictures and photographs.”
Beach in action her internal sense of justice kicking in, “Yeah-but I already know all this.”
“Beach would it break your heart to not go to school anymore?” I asked on the 15 minute walk home past wild chickens, polygamist communes, and abandoned crumbling houses.
So what have we done? The right thing for the right kid, who calls public school ‘do this do that school’ and thriving at home with me.