At the end of the school year a flyer came out asking if anyone was interested in a youth basketball league. I imagine that they got quite a good response, given that our park basketball courts are always full, we are literally across the bridge from Philly, and who doesn't love basketball? Even I love basketball, and I don't really love any sport. They soon sent out a follow up email asking for ages and contact information and then sent out a little over a month ago an email announcing two free clinics, one of which was suppose to be this Saturday. I marked my calendar.
Yesterday, just a few days short of the clinic, I get an email saying, casually, that they are changing the day to Sunday. No explanation as to why, just that it was switched. My boys can't go, and I wonder how many other kids can't go. And so it begins, the last minute changes and disorganization. The turn out they originally anticipated isn't there, and suddenly it's the community's fault and the phrase "cancelled due to lack of interest" is thrown out there. But, it's not lack of interest. It's lack of getting your shit together. With a fledgling organization, you have to cross your t's and dot your i's. People will give up on you and won't give you a second chance if you drop the ball. And to drop the ball on your first event?? Well, it's discouraging to say the least.
I realize that this is not a problem unique to my area of the country. It's just another disappointment in a long string of disappointments. We believed our district started instrument lessons in the third grade, and when they didn't, we had assumed it was fourth grade, only to find out it's actually fifth grade, which is far too late. My friend's kids in a different state are playing classical pieces by the fifth grade, while our concert was "Hot Cross Buns" (I'm not even exaggerating.). They cut the foreign language program at the elementary level, not to save money, but because they didn't see its import and reallocated the money elsewhere. We are fighting right now to keep the local Scout troop viable because over the past few years it was so poorly run they nearly lost all their members. My husband has stepped up and is leading a den and is also trying to be a force with the organization of the entire troop, but the word is out there that the program is a dud and recruiting new members is difficult. He also stepped up and volunteered to assistant coach our oldest son's soccer team because two of the coaches left the team when their sons tried out for the "A" team and made it. The second soccer team was formed because, according to the coaches, there was a group of boys who wanted to play and didn't have a team and any kid who is eight years old and wants to play soccer, should be able to play soccer. We were told that the team would stay together and build their bonds as a team through the years growing a sense of loyalty and pride, but the first opportunity to try out for the "better" team, they took it. Luckily two other dads and my husband volunteered to keep it going.
I just feel that there is nothing we can get behind here. We are willing to volunteer and help out in anyway we can, but with every organization I feel it's a struggle to just survive it. At any moment it feels as though it could be pulled from under our feet. It's exhausting to try and be apart of so many things at a "keep it going" level, and with the lack of opportunities at the school district level, where there is nothing we can do, no matter how heartfelt your speech at the school board meeting is, it's downright infuriating.
So we sit at home, put the kids to bed early, and order takeout to have some quiet time and discuss our current predicament with basketball or soccer or scouts or how will we pay for private music lessons, just as we did last night. And here comes the good part...the food in South Jersey. It's plentiful and 100 percent authentic. I fell in love with Damascus, but there were about four, maybe five eateries in town, only one of which was a real restaurant. There were a couple cafes and one taco shop whose proprietor's name was Joe Killian. Now, we didn't eat there and Joe could have a Mexican mother who married some Irish dude and they somehow settled in the mountains of Virginia and they could have been the best tacos I had ever eaten. I'm not knocking Joe's, remember. I'm trying to find a reason to like where I live now, and my Mexican restaurant is two minutes away and the lady who owns it is named Juanita and my favorite dish is the dish her village in Mexico is know for.
We have pizzerias galore, and while not all of them are as great as their North Jersey counterparts, which I grew up eating, they can still be classified as real pizza. I have a sushi joint on speed dial and the whole Japanese family who runs the place knows me by first name. Our favorite family restaurant for a special celebration is actually an Indian restaurant about twenty minutes away, and any Indian restaurant in South Jersey is pretty much guaranteed to have an Indian chef. My favorite Italian place just up the rode from the Indian place is operated by a family right off the boat and is Zagat rated as one of the best Italian restaurants in the country! I've eaten Greek, Brazilian, Vietnamese, and even Burmese, all authentically cooked and served and all delicious.
There aren't too many places that offer such a selection of cultural tastings in such a compact space. And I like food...all. kinds. of. food. So in that respect, South Jersey and I are a perfect fit. And when disappointments arise, as they often do, there is always some comfort food awaiting us just minutes away.
I realize that this is not a problem unique to my area of the country. It's just another disappointment in a long string of disappointments. We believed our district started instrument lessons in the third grade, and when they didn't, we had assumed it was fourth grade, only to find out it's actually fifth grade, which is far too late. My friend's kids in a different state are playing classical pieces by the fifth grade, while our concert was "Hot Cross Buns" (I'm not even exaggerating.). They cut the foreign language program at the elementary level, not to save money, but because they didn't see its import and reallocated the money elsewhere. We are fighting right now to keep the local Scout troop viable because over the past few years it was so poorly run they nearly lost all their members. My husband has stepped up and is leading a den and is also trying to be a force with the organization of the entire troop, but the word is out there that the program is a dud and recruiting new members is difficult. He also stepped up and volunteered to assistant coach our oldest son's soccer team because two of the coaches left the team when their sons tried out for the "A" team and made it. The second soccer team was formed because, according to the coaches, there was a group of boys who wanted to play and didn't have a team and any kid who is eight years old and wants to play soccer, should be able to play soccer. We were told that the team would stay together and build their bonds as a team through the years growing a sense of loyalty and pride, but the first opportunity to try out for the "better" team, they took it. Luckily two other dads and my husband volunteered to keep it going.
I just feel that there is nothing we can get behind here. We are willing to volunteer and help out in anyway we can, but with every organization I feel it's a struggle to just survive it. At any moment it feels as though it could be pulled from under our feet. It's exhausting to try and be apart of so many things at a "keep it going" level, and with the lack of opportunities at the school district level, where there is nothing we can do, no matter how heartfelt your speech at the school board meeting is, it's downright infuriating.
So we sit at home, put the kids to bed early, and order takeout to have some quiet time and discuss our current predicament with basketball or soccer or scouts or how will we pay for private music lessons, just as we did last night. And here comes the good part...the food in South Jersey. It's plentiful and 100 percent authentic. I fell in love with Damascus, but there were about four, maybe five eateries in town, only one of which was a real restaurant. There were a couple cafes and one taco shop whose proprietor's name was Joe Killian. Now, we didn't eat there and Joe could have a Mexican mother who married some Irish dude and they somehow settled in the mountains of Virginia and they could have been the best tacos I had ever eaten. I'm not knocking Joe's, remember. I'm trying to find a reason to like where I live now, and my Mexican restaurant is two minutes away and the lady who owns it is named Juanita and my favorite dish is the dish her village in Mexico is know for.
We have pizzerias galore, and while not all of them are as great as their North Jersey counterparts, which I grew up eating, they can still be classified as real pizza. I have a sushi joint on speed dial and the whole Japanese family who runs the place knows me by first name. Our favorite family restaurant for a special celebration is actually an Indian restaurant about twenty minutes away, and any Indian restaurant in South Jersey is pretty much guaranteed to have an Indian chef. My favorite Italian place just up the rode from the Indian place is operated by a family right off the boat and is Zagat rated as one of the best Italian restaurants in the country! I've eaten Greek, Brazilian, Vietnamese, and even Burmese, all authentically cooked and served and all delicious.
There aren't too many places that offer such a selection of cultural tastings in such a compact space. And I like food...all. kinds. of. food. So in that respect, South Jersey and I are a perfect fit. And when disappointments arise, as they often do, there is always some comfort food awaiting us just minutes away.
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