School Bored Meeting

Mark's Scout Troop is working on the Citizen in the Community merit badge. One requirement is to attend a community meeting, so the Scout leaders picked a school board meeting.

I attended a meeting in May, and seriously thought I was going to go insane from the boredom. So I warned Mark beforehand it's a little...slow.

"Oh," he said, and nodded knowingly. "So I should bring something to play with."

"No, no toys," I said. "You have to sit there and listen. I'm just telling you it will be incredibly boring, so you're prepared for it." And suddenly, an image of the crying room at church popped into my head. My mom dragged us there when we were little, but made us actually listen to the sermon--no playing around like the other kids. Complete. Torture.

We got to the meeting right at 5, but it was already full! The guard directed us to the overflow area in the cafeteria where we could watch the meeting on a big-screen TV.

The boys sat down and immediately started arm-wrestling. I did my best mom impression, shushing them, and pointed to the screen.

"You're going in there as soon as there's room," I told them. "Pay attention!" They started  arm-wrestling again, just a little quieter.

There were 50 other families there, all carrying bright neon signs. I asked what they were protesting, and a mom told me, "Nothing, we're here to support our charter school."

The first order of business was a retiree; I think he got an award or something. After shaking hands with all the board members, the chairman suggested he go celebrate with his family (i.e., free up some chairs, buddy!).

After the retiree's family left, a guard came back and announced there were 12 seats available. The charter school mom gathered up her supporters--about 40 of them--and headed out. Maybe they don't teach counting at the charter school.

The room grew much quieter after that. Even our Scouts, now 10 of them, settled down.

I watched the charter school lady appear onscreen at the podium. I still don't know what she was there for--she didn't ask for money, or to prevent any budget cuts--she just wanted to talk about the school while all the other parents waved their homemade signs. Which they did, for the allotted three minutes. And then they left. The take-away lesson I got was that school board meetings are for saying your piece, then splitting. Seems kinda...selfish.

More seats were freed up, 5 to be exact, the guard said. I grabbed my Scouts, then gave up my space, since I wasn't earning a merit badge and they were. I returned to the overflow area so I could play on Facebook and not be rude during the meeting.

The meeting finally ended, but the boys weren't quite done--they still had to interview the school superintendent. I was a little worried about what they would ask, but they did great! They asked why the board closed 5th grade camp ("Come on, tell the truth--was it really a fire hazard or just budget cuts?") They asked why the board would close nearby schools, and what'll happen to those affected students. They asked about classes that were cut, and if the band program was safe (it is, hooray!).

Mark asked about middle school sports, and whether they would be cut next year (no! It's been budgeted for the next three years--woot woot!). Another kid asked why they had to do P.E. when it was soooooooo cold outside. I thought to myself, "Man, that is definitely a California kid if he thinks 50 degrees is too cold for P.E.!"

I was actually very impressed by the questions--they were well-thought out and very relevant.

Until the last kid raised his hand. He was indignant that there are different standards between the genders during P.E.

"How come the girls don't  do the same stuff in P.E. as the boys?" he asked. "Like, say the  boys have to do 60 sit ups, and the girls only have to do 10. It's not fair!"

I cringed and sunk into my seat. Turns out the little rabble-rouser was none other than my own kid.

"What?" said the school board member. "There aren't different standards, thanks to Title 9. We will check into that," she said to the superintendent, who nodded in agreement.

And with that, the meeting ended. I popped Mark lightly on the head, and asked why he sold out the girls like that.

"You'll never get a date that way!" I told him, and his friend Jonah burst out laughing.

"So?" Mark said. "I don't care!"

"You will someday," Jonah told him.

On the way out, the boys high-fived each other for getting on TV. Jonah fretted that the camera caught him yawning several times. Mark said he and Sean flipped their hair every time the camera panned over them.

I was just proud they behaved. Of course, the minute they stepped outside, all bets were off--the three younger Scouts took off running through the empty parking lot toward my car.

"Why are they doing that?" asked Jonah's big brother, Ben.

"Because they're spazzes," I said. But I didn't mind. Every community needs a few indignant, high-fiving, hair-flipping, sleepy citizens--and I'm happy to share mine.