7,8,9,8...New Math for a new school.

I lost my first student this week. In my analyst brain, I knew this would happen. If for no other reason than things were going WAY too smoothly to suit certain principalities and powers, I recognized this coming. But analysm and realism only go so far with me, and now my much stronger idealistic, passionate, emotional side has taken over. Now I'm reacting the same way my Kindergartener does every morning when I devastate him with the news that yes, he actually does have to watch the class on TV again today. "IT's NOT FaIR!"(Somehow in his mind Mrs. Bere the sweet, paisley-covered, poofy-sleeved video teacher doesn't compare with Diego for desirable programming. I don't get it.) This boy, this sweet-tempered, VERY ill-educated 11-yr. old NEEDS to be here! Any other school would have eaten him alive for his 2nd grade reading level, zero math skills beyond basic addition and the use of a calculator, barely being able to write, and so on. Here my kids ushered him in with no judgment or scorn, only excitement over their prayers being answered for another boy to be enrolled. In turn he gave us not only a better gender balance, but befriended our lone wolf, our Abject Princess (not her real name, but it suits) that so desperately needed someone. It was the start of a beautiful thing. Now he will not only miss out on the opportunities of this great environment, he was taken back to instability and no schooling whatsoever. Anyone that spends 2 minutes talking with me knows that I ardently advocate a parent's right to educate their own child however they wish. Yet I abhor the abuse of children caused by the misuse of this right (not to mention the indignance I have for sucessfully homeschooled children who constantly have to defend themselves in this regard - not speaking from any amount of experience, of course) But dillusional mothers strike again. Now I'm left fuming (Not to mention this boy's awesome aunt who had taken him in, enrolled him, hired a tutor, bought him books, put notes and paper airplanes in his lunchbox, etc.) and maybe just coming down a little from my start-of-the-year high.