Dazed and Confused
Applying to high school in NYC is no joke, no matter how much I want it to be. Plus, Taylor Swift, why Dad and Buried exists, and a Spooktober update!
You might have noticed that a few of my recent newsletters have been a bit more intense than usual. Allow me to explain.
Typically, I prefer to keep things lighter online, even when things are heavy as hell in my real life. But I have a teenager now, and it’s harder to keep things light as your kids get older. And aside from making jokes about the challenges of raising kids, being “authentic” and “realistic” and “transparent” about the pitfalls of parenting is the other primary reason I started Dad and Buried.
Right now, the primary pitfall is my 8th grader’s high school application process.
If you’re a parent in New York City, you probably already know what I mean. If you don’t live in NYC, you’re probably thinking “ooh, fancy, they’re applying to private schools!”
Hell no.
In NYC, there are so many neighborhoods, so many kids, and so many schools that you can’t just go to the building down your street. You actually have to apply – every public school family is required to – to up to 12 schools (out of 400+) and cross your fingers that you get into a decent one that’s well-suited to your kid and doesn’t require an hour-plus ride on the subway every morning and afternoon.
Admission is based on a variety of criteria. Depending on the school, those criteria can include grades, your kid’s randomly assigned lottery number (!!!!), an audition (for talents like dance or theater or musical instruments), an application essay, and even a high school version of the SATs (the SHSAT) that kids take months-long courses to prep for. In 7th and 8th grade!
The entire process is complex and overwhelming, and everyone knows it, including – and especially – the administrators that guide families through it.
The amount of work this requires for parents is insane, and the amount of pressure this puts on middle-schoolers is even more insane. Not every middle-school kid is super dialed in to school, or to the concept of “the future,” and the balancing act here is both allowing them to remain kids for a bit longer while also making sure they know the stakes, all without panicking and/or burning them out before they turn 14. Fun!
The good news is we don’t have to pay to get into these schools, unless you count a SHSAT tutor, or an audition coach, or all the booze we need to survive the next three months. (This morning we attended an info session at my son’s school, and the principal literally suggested having wine to try to assuage your anxiety. Unfortunately, she didn’t pass any out.) The bad news is we’ll only have a few months to move to a different area if things don’t break or way. Gulp!
The best “glass half-full” tidbit they offer to families drowning in the stress? That it will make the eventual college application process feel like a breeze. Gee, what a relief.
But I get it. This is just one of many gauntlets my teenager—and yours too, whether you live in NYC or not—is going to need to survive over the next few years, all culminating in applying to college (I say “culminating” as if the parenting gauntlets will suddenly end and everything will become peachy-keen once he hits 18, and we all know that isn’t true, but I’m hanging on by a thread here so let me be!) At the very least we’ll be pressure-tested by the time we get there. If we survive.
So, yeah. Apologies if my last few newsletter posts have been a bit much. These next few months/years aren’t going to be a lot of fun.
But when have I ever pretended that any of this parenting stuff is fun?
Quick Reminder
There are many, many newsletters, blogs, and social media accounts out there that focus on the fun stuff and the bright side and the joys of parenting, that encourage and inform, that offer hacks and tips and inspiration.
But that’s not Dad and Buried.
Dad and Buried isn’t about encouraging people to be better, it’s not meant to inspire, it isn’t about offering advice or expertise.
It’s about two things: solidarity and resignation, because we’re all in this shit-show together and we ain’t getting out of it anytime soon!
I don’t want you to ascend, I’m not here to elevate you. I’m here to be realistic and to make you feel better about being overwhelmed and repeatedly blowing it because I’m overwhelmed and repeatedly blowing it too! And so is everyone else, more often than not! It is what it is, and that’s A-OK!
We are who we are and we’re as good as our kids are gonna get and you know what? That’s fine. Just so long as we keep giving them all we’ve got.
Social Media Round-up
Pop Culture Stuff
We’re on day 11, and we’ve been crushing Spooktober. Detective Munch has been along for much of the ride so far, and after showing him The Conjuring last week, he is all-in on the Conjuring universe. We’ve since watched Annabelle, which I hadn’t seen and didn’t need to, and The Conjuring 2, which is too long but pretty effective, and had both Mom and Buried and the Detective covering their eyes like widdle babies.
The kid is dying for The Exorcist, which I am willing to show him, but I’m worried he’ll find it boring (it’s a bit of a slow-burn, and has some actual characterization and substance to it, as opposed to scare-a-minute schlock) and dated. I suppose we’ll see. Mom and Buried and I finally got around to The Strangers, which unfolded far differently than I expected (there was much more lead-up and much less in-the-home stuff than I anticipated), but the overall premise is definitely creepy. I also watched Lake Mungo and wasn’t super impressed, though it has a foreboding vibe and some definite moments. It sort of undercuts itself halfway through, which I found odd, but it’s ultimately more about grief than the supernatural.
The next big on on my list is this past summer’s Talk To Me, which I’ve heard great things about. I hope to rent that Saturday night, because on Friday night Mom and Buried and I are going to see the Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour movie!
As you know, I’m a bit of a Swiftie, but I wasn’t planning to go to the theater to see the movie - until we were invited to see it at the drive-in on the water here in Brooklyn, which pretty much seems like the most fun way to experience a concert flick. The crowd is encouraged to sing along and it will get loud and raucous and I will be the oldest person there!
I’ll try to report back on how it goes but if the movie’s setlist doesn’t include “Cornelia Street” I might end up in jail so cross your fingers!
You know, you nit trying to elevate anyone is one of my favorite things about you (and MaB). Also, this whole high school application process sounds horrible, even to my german brain which is pretty used to bureaucracy...