An Acorn Parent Reflection Written By Kate Tarsi
I don’t know if it’s a coincidence but every year at the Work and Play, my husband and I get asked to put up the potty tent in the Garden. I could look at this request in one of two ways: The first, with raised eyebrows. Do we look like the type of people who get all hopped up on a good porto-potty puzzle? This chore always puts us back on our heels at first and the concerns are always the same: “Are we missing pieces?” “Is this tent broken?” “What does it say about us that we always somehow end up with this task?”
The second way we could interpret this is that we get asked to do this every year because Ms. Sue knows we would pretty much do anything for this place. Like anything. Why is that? Well, metaphorically, because my family has seen their share of “crappy” situations and this Acorn community has always shown up for us. They’ve always jumped in to help us tackle our own version of the toilet tent of life.
September always reminds me of my now 8 year old’s first year here as a Chipmunk in 2020. At the Chipmunk Open House, I secretly cried through the whole thing, hoping my mask would hide the tears. At the end, when Charlie broke free from Ms. Sue and ran straight into the busy parking lot, I knew we were in for it. Crippled with separation anxiety, my daughter would hide under our bed and cry every day before school. Her little body so afraid, her nervous system so amped that when I actually did get her in the car, she would have to nervously pee every few minutes on the drive. There’s nothing like having to stop six times on your way to school to pee in some stranger’s yard!
Over the next two years, with the help of so many, specifically Ms. Shelly and her anxiety resources, the change in my girl was shocking. She completed her Mighty Oak year, ready to tackle public school. It was the biggest transformation of her short little life and I still marvel at how far she’s come every single day that she grabs her back pack as a second grader and walks eagerly into her elementary school. Acorn did that.
We have experienced some of our most painful and personal heartache while lucky enough to be at Acorn, the kind that life deals out without warning. As we mourned the loss of a baby in 2023, our community enveloped us when we needed it most. Homemade bread, warm hugs, casserole dishes of food. I can remember Jendiss and her words of momma wisdom, holding me as I cried. I can remember the sign Ms. Sue made for us when our third and final little rainbow baby was finally born in 2024: “Welcome to the world, Landry.” It still hangs in his room, with its blue sky background and the hand-painted flowers sprouting.
As my middle son, Graham, starts his Mighty Oak year, it actually IS all rainbows and butterflies. And not because there isn’t thunder or rain, but rather because we’ve found a way to sustain ourselves through hard times. This place, this school, and this community is a testament to that. And this is exactly why we will jump at the chance to help this place when the Work and Play rolls around. Why we want to hog all the volunteer opportunities when they come up in the classroom. It’s why we happily drive 25 minutes every day from our home in Maine to bring our kids here. We would do anything for this place. Absolutely anything. And when my kids are long out of Acorn School, and Mike and I show up to the Work and Play childless, you will find us in the Garden. We'll be the ones with the potty tent bag, laughing, and questioning whether we actually do have all the pieces to assemble that potty tent, all the while, so very grateful and so very honored that we get to do it.