The Private/Public School Dilemma

I was raised in the...well, let's just say a while ago. The California public school system was one of the best in the country...I think it was ranked #1 or #2 thanks in no small part to Gov. Pat Brown's (Jerry's father) commitment to education. I went to elementary, junior and high school at LAUSD (Los Angeles Unified School District) schools. There were after school programs for free, special music, drama and art programs, books and general supplies were provided, some field trips took place and major teacher involvement. Parent-Teacher conferences were held in the evening after a full days' work. Everyone got two weeks vacation at Christmas time, one week in the Spring, four days at Thanksgiving and a few other days for National holidays like Memorial Day...but that was about it. There were no half days, pupil free days, writing for teacher days, splash fun days, camping trips (other than if you were in the Girl or Boy Scouts) or anything else like that. You went to school with your friends in the neighborhood, did your work, got a report card at the middle and end of every semester and you had the summer off for camp, family vacations or whatever. Sure, there was an active PTA and the occasional bake sale/fundraiser but it was not a prominent part of the school experience. It was all pretty straight forward. Private schools in those days were for the very elite or mostly for those who got kicked out of the public schools and HAD to go to a private school to get an education.

I also went to UC Berkeley getting a fabulous university education that cost A LOT less money then the one nearby at Stanford in Palo Alto. Us Cal Bears used to have a good laugh about that from time to time...no offense intended to Stanford students or alumni! As I understand it, Berkeley is still ranked the #1 public university in this country.

But, something changed along the way. Ronald Reagan became governor of California and initiated cut backs that began to dismantle the California public school system in the most egregious ways. I remember my mother complaining loudly about it because all four of her children were attending local public schools. Bit by bit the schools fell apart. Bit by bit scores and literacy fell. Bit by bit the system became an almost unfixable shambles...which is how I encountered it as my son, Joshua, got ready to attend kindergarten.

It made me sad to know that the wonderful schools that I had attended were no longer wonderful. And even though I didn't live in the district for those schools, the one I did live in presented the same problems. To be honest, actually, the elementary school in my district is a good charter school but the middle and high schools (once great schools) are disasters. So, I was faced with a dilemma. Do I send Joshua to the neighborhood charter school and then go the private school route at 6th grade or do I bite the bullet now, opting for a private school that goes through 12th grade and be done with it. After many serious inner monologues with myself I decided to check out the private schools within a reasonable distance from my home and see what they had to offer. I also told myself that if Joshua didn't get in to a private school that I felt was really worth the money it would invariably cost, that he would go to our charter school and we would just deal with the 6th grade transition when we had to.

The Reader's digest of this saga is that my son and I (because they truly do look at each child and their family) did get into our first choice...a terrific, liberal, progressive school that I thought would not only give Joshua a great education but also a great foundation for being a productive and compassionate member of society. I bit the bullet big time and dove in to this very new and strange world...at least for me.

Joshua is now in the 5th grade...his last year of elementary school before he moves up and over to the middle/upper school campus a few blocks away. My son knows nothing else...this is the only education he has been offered and is experiencing...for the most part, it has been a perfect match for him and our less than conventional family. Me, separately on the other hand, do have something else to compare it to. I find that it often baffles me...this whole private school world. It just seems sometimes to be so surreal...because even though the student/parent population is quite diverse economically, ethnically, religiously, socially (all unusually rare for most private schools) there are still plenty of people that feel very entitled and who seem to have forgotten that not everyone breathes their particular brand of rarefied air. It also costs a small fortune and often seems to me that the more you pay the less these children actually go to school!

To be clear, there are many advantages at my son's school and others like it that don't exist in even the best public schools. The attention to each child's emotional life, issues and ways of learning are truly extraordinary. The ratio of teachers and faculty to students, also extraordinary. The sense of community and fun, not to mention the throngs of specialists that round out the academic/arts/sports/technology programs, again extraordinary. Yet, in addition to paying the ridiculously high tuition, the school demands that you practically give your blood. There are constant demands for your money for one thing or another, for your volunteer time, for your involvement in all the minutiae that daily goes on...it can feel very overwhelming, exhausting and intrusive at times.

And then, of course, I wonder, if in the end, does it really matter? Will Joshua's life in general be that dramatically altered by being at this particular school as opposed to the public schools he would have otherwise attended? The honest answer is, I don't know for sure and probably never will because this is the direction we chose and this is the path we're on. But, I do wonder...I do still wonder...

xoxo Nanci

P.S. Considering that I am now known as "The Baker Mom" (baking being one of the ways I've found I enjoy volunteering) here's a great recipe to make for your school's next party or fundraiser...S'MORE NUT BARS. I guarantee you that it's a sure winner!

Red Velvet Cake, Red Candies, Red Everything!

Oh, RED is just my very favorite color and has been for as long as I can remember. I had a red velvet dress that I loved, loved, loved when I was a little girl and wore ALL the time so doesn't it make perfect sense that one of my very favorite cakes is RED VELVET CAKE?! Well, of course, it does. And that doesn't even begin to take into account all the RED CANDIES that I love...Licorice, Dots, Juicyfruits, Jujubees, Swedish Fish, Cinnamon Bears, Red Hots, Hot Tamales, Jelly Beans, Salt Water Taffy (just to name a few) or the red popsicles, red fruit punch and the famous (or infamous) red dixie cups of my preschool days. Also, is there anything more stunning then a sunset drenched in red hues, burnt red leaves on an autumn tree, a scarlet red evening gown, ruby red stilettos or blood red nail polish and lipstick? I don't think so. Trust me this list really could go on and on and on.

4th of July Red Velvet Cake

So, what's a girl to do with her RED obsession? Well, I say feed it for goodness sake! So, that's what I've done my whole life. As far as those candies go...I used to save the red ones (the best ones) for last until I realized that that was exactly when everyone wanted me to share and have a taste of my fabulous goodies. Well, I fixed that right away. I began (and have never looked backed) eating the red candies FIRST (why save the best for last, life is short!) and now I have no moral dilemmas whatsoever when I have to pony up and share. I am perfectly happy to give away the other colors, no offense intended to the rest of the rainbow.

Valentine's Day Red Velvet Cake

RED, for me, represents fiery passion and beauty not to mention delectable, delightful and often gorgeous sweet treats...but no matter what your favorite color may be, ENJOY it to the fullest...wear it, decorate with it, bake it, drink it, eat it, meditate over it...do whatever you want with it!

xo Nanci

Sunday afternoon at Aunt Irene & Uncle George's circa a long time ago!

P.S. OK, admittedly, not the most flattering look for me, but as you can see I am wearing my adored RED VELVET DRESS underneath the lovely and classy improvised bib. I wasn't kidding, this "RED THING" started young. Have a good laugh...I certainly did!

My soul sister and best friend, Penny

It's hard to explain how Penny and I became best friends because we didn't grow up together, we didn't go to school together and since meeting in our early twenties we have rarely lived in the same city. Yet, from the moment we met in Doug Rivera's Jazz dance class in Sherman Oaks, California, there was something special going on, even if we didn't quite realize it at the time.

It all started with Doug calling me Penny and her Nanci. That confusion has continued throughout our entire friendship extending to just about everyone that meets/knows us...including Penny's own mother, Ruth, who recently looked at a picture of me and my son, Joshua, on my refrigerator and said, "Pen is looking more and more like you." and her youngest son, Ethan, who once declared after looking at a picture of us, "Two mommies!"

Pen and Me back in the day!

People are genuinely shocked to find out that not only are we not biological sisters, we're not even cousins of any sort...well, at least not technically. Pen and I like to see each other and our friendship on an even higher plane. We always say that I am the sister she never had (she has one brother) and she is the sister I got cheated out of (my sister died almost 21 years ago). Perhaps we have found each other again after a thousand other lifetimes separated us...our souls reconnecting effortlessly...just so happy to be back together. Whatever the explanation, we don't really care...we are just so grateful for 30 years and counting of a magical friendship that has dramatically changed each of our lives.

Penny came in from Chicago unexpectedly Sunday night to visit her mom for a few days dragging along her brother and cousin from the east coast. We spent Monday afternoon eating the most luscious piece of coconut cake at my friend, Jane Lockhart's bakery, Sweet Lady Jane, on Melrose Avenue. Two happier women you could not have seen than us eating that cake. The frosting alone made us swoon. We devoured every morsel all the while laughing our heads off as we regaled each other with the most recent stories of our lives.

Then, we headed to XIV Karats Jewelers in Beverly Hills (the owner, Cheryl Alpert is a longtime family friend) because Pen wanted to get some gold chains. After looking at like a hundred different ones she picked out four truly spectacular chains...3 gold gold, 1 white gold...a well deserved treat to herself. Cheryl gave her the special "Nanci" price and off we went leaving Cheryl eating the Jacques Torres chocolate chip cookies that I had brought for her. She was supposed to share them with her daughter, Caryn, but Penny and I had our doubts that Caryn would ever see even one of them!

Back at my house we had a little time left before Penny had to pick up her brother, cousin and mom for dinner. We absolutely NEVER have enough time together but we sure as hell appreciate every single minute that we do have. We have accumulated countless memories over the years...from me surprising her for her 40th birthday (her husband, Bob, and I kept the secret for a month - oh, you should have seen the look on her face when she opened the door!) to her flying out for all my opening nights (you should have seen the look on my face!) and to everything in between. We have remained steadfast in our devotion to one another, grateful for the blessing of our two woman sisterhood and to the enormous joy we share of being together whether we are laughing or crying.

Lucky, maybe? Fate, maybe? Karma, maybe that, too? WHATEVER it is that brought us to each other all those many years ago I say, Thank Goodness and Thank God for my Pen!

Sexy Stiletto Cake Server

P.S. Look what Penny got me for my birthday this year along with a huge tub of my favorite Costco granola...couldn't be more perfect, don't you agree? Now that's a BEST FRIEND!

The life and times of my sister, Gloria

I don't know why, but my sister, Gloria, loved the candy Swedish Fish. Personally, I was more of a Juicyfruit, Dots and Jujubes kind of gal, but Gloria won me over and I, too, became a fan of her Swedish Fish. She liked all the colors but especially the red ones, my favorite as well. I could always bring a smile to her face if I brought her or sent her (as I often did when I lived in NYC) a big bag of those candies. It just made her day.

My sister died almost twenty-one years ago. Still, all these years later, whenever I see Swedish Fish in a candy store or buy some to eat myself I simply cannot help but think of her and laugh. I like to believe that it makes her happy, wherever she is, to see me continuing on her tradition of Swedish Fish enjoyment.

The older I get, the more I want to honor my sister's life and struggles. I want to be her voice. I want to stand along side her...remind her that she is not forgotten, that her life mattered, that she is still very much loved. In that spirit, I have gotten involved with NARSAD (National Alliance for Research on Schizophrenia and Depression), a world leading charity dedicated to mental health research.

The following is a tribute I wrote for *NARSAD's Gloria Neidorf Memorial Lecture on Bipolar Disorder that took place at UCLA on May 1, 2010.

Gloria's High School Graduation Picture

My sister, Gloria Ellen Neidorf, was born January 3, 1958, a big, beautiful baby with soft light brown hair and hazel brown eyes, the second of what would eventually be four children in our family. She was smart, charming and funny; a very happy go lucky child with a mischievous laugh that made everyone laugh uncontrollably along with her. She displayed an early talent as an artist and became an avid equestrian competing in the English style throughout her adolescence. There was nothing in her early childhood that signaled the torment that would become her life.

The doctors believed that the onset of her bipolar disease (a chemical brain imbalance that is a heredity illness much like diabetes) began in adolescence, probably around the age of twelve to thirteen. At that time, Gloria started to display disturbing rebellious behaviors - lying, drugs, excessive partying, numerous car accidents and early sexual activity. There were school and friend changes, unsuccessful attempts at therapy, much screaming and crying...all to no avail. At no time did anyone think, "Oh, this child might be mentally ill." It was 1970. Gloria's behavior was in keeping with what many of her friends and other kids of her generation were doing plus she had a big mouthed, but goody two shoes of an older sister, to contend with. It just looked like she was a normal teenager trying to figure herself out and forge her own path.

Despite her drug use, her school truancies and her increasingly erratic behavior, Gloria managed to graduate high school with good enough grades to get into UC Santa Cruz where she spent two years (always at the top of her class). She then transferred to UC Berkeley getting into the prestigious Haas Business School graduating with honors on time two years later. This was an absolute miracle and testament to my sister's fortitude as her disease was now raging out of control. She continued to carry on after college; getting a job and her own apartment but it all came to a crashing halt when a failed suicide attempt at age twenty-three finally brought to light a correct diagnosis.

Unfortunately for Gloria, her pain was about to get even worse. It was determined that she was a "rapid cycler", an even more devastating subset of the disease. No amount of talk therapy was helpful and no matter what medications the doctors prescribed (and there were so many one could no longer count them), nothing was able to stabilize her. Her life descended into a nightmare of epic proportion with events too horrible to describe here. She became unrecognizable to herself and to those that loved her most. And as frustrating and maddening as it could be to deal with her then, it is now obvious to me how courageous and tenacious she was as she fought to regain her life as she had previously known it.

Gloria lost her battle with bipolar disease on October 23, 1989, committing suicide when she was thirty-one years old. I have often marveled at how she lasted as long as she did considering the daily torment she had to endure. My sister has become one of my heros for her bravery in the light of the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the impossible. It is my hope and that of my family that Gloria's valiant struggle with mental illness will inspire and educate others...that the bright light she was born with will live on.

*The afternoon at UCLA also included other lectures in an effort to illuminate the many mysteries of mental illness. 100% of all donations to NARSAD go directly to research, an amazing accomplishment for a non-profit.

Which color is your favorite?

On a lighter note, the next time you see Swedish Fish candy, think of my sister, Gloria. I know it will bring a smile to her face...