"DEAR MOUNTAIN ROOM PARENTS", by Maria Semple.
(Originally appeared in the New Yorker. I read it at the back of Maria's book, Where'd You Go, Bernadette? - GREAT book.)
(This made me laugh so hard I not only cried but I was also literally rolling on the floor. I'm not kidding.)
'Hi, everyone!
The Mountain Room is gearing up for its Day of the Dead celebration on Friday. Please send in photos of loved ones for our altar. All parents are welcome to come by on Wednesday afternoon to help us make candles and decorate skulls.
Thanks!
Emily
Hi again,
Because I've gotten some questions about my last email, there is nothing "wrong" with Halloween. The Day of the Dead is the Mexican version, a time of remembrance. Many of you chose Little Learners because of our emphasis on global awareness. Our celebration on Friday is an example of that. The skulls we're decorating are sugar skulls. I should have made that more clear.
Emily
Parents:
Some of you have expressed concern about your children celebrating a holiday with the word "dead" in it. I asked Eleanor's mom, who's a pediatrician, and here's what she said: "Preschoolers tend to see death as temporary and reversible. Therefore, I see nothing traumatic about the Day of the Dead." I hope this helps.
Emily
Dear Parents:
In response to the email we all received from Maddie's parents, in which they shared their decision to raise their daughter dogma-free, yes, there will be an altar, but please be assured that the Day of the Dead is a pagan celebration of life and has nothing to do with God. Keep those photos coming!
Emily
Hello.
Perhaps "pagan" was a poor word choice. I feel like we're veering a bit off track, so here's what I'll do. I'll start setting up our altar now, so that today at pickup you can see for yourselves how colorful and harmless the Day of the Dead truly is.
Emily
Parents:
The photos should be of loved ones who have passed. Max's grandmother was understandably shaken when she came in and saw a photo of herself on our altar. But the candles and skulls were cute, right?
Emily
Mountain Room Parents:
It's late and I can't possibly respond to each and every email. (Not that it comes up a lot in conversation, but I have children, too.) As the skulls have clearly become a distraction, I decided to throw them away. They're in the compost. I'm looking at them now. You can, too, tomorrow at drop-off. I just placed a "No Basura" card on the bin to make sure it doesn't get emptied. Finally, to those parents who are offended by our Day of the Dead celebration, I'd like to point out that there are parents who are offended that you are offended.
Emily
Dear Parents:
Thanks to their group email, we now know that the families of Millie and Jaden M. recognize Jesus Christ as their Savior. There still seems to be some confusion about why, if we want to celebrate life, we're actually celebrating death. To better explain this "bewildering detour", I've asked Adela, who works in the office and makes waffles for us on Wednesdays, and who was born in Mexico, to write you directly.
Emily
Hola a los Padres:
El Dia de los Muertos begins with a parade through the zocalo, where we toss oranges into decorated coffins. The skeletons drive us in the bus to the cemetery and we molest the spirits from under the ground with candy and traditional Mexican music. We write poems called calveras, which laugh at the living. In Mexico, it is a rejoicing time of ofrendas, picnics, and dancing on graves.
Adela
Parents:
I sincerely apologize for Adela's email. I would have looked it over, but I was at my daughter's piano recital. (Three kids, in case you're wondering, one who's allergic to everything, even wind.) For now, let's agree that email has reached its limits. How about we process our feelings face to face? 9 A.M. tomorrow?
Emily
Dear Parents:
Some of you chose to engage in our dialogue. Some chose to form a human chain. Others had jobs (!) to go to. So we're all up to speed, let me recap this morning's discussion.
- Satan isn't driving our bus. Little Learners does not have a bus. If we did, I wouldn't still need parent drivers for the field trip to the cider mill. Anyone? I didn't think so.
- Ofrenda means "offering". It's just a thing we put on the altar. Any random thing. A bottle of Fanta. Unopened, not poisoned. Just a bottle of Fanta.
- We're moving past the word "altar" and calling it what is really is: a Seahawks blanket draped over some cinder blocks.
- Adela will not be preparing food anymore and Waffle Wednesday will be suspended. (That didn't make us any new friends in the Rainbow and Sunshine Rooms!)
- On Friday morning, I will divide the Mountain Room into three groups: those who wish to celebrate the Day of the Dead; those who wish to celebrate Halloween; and Maddie, who will make nondenominational potato prints in the corner.
Dear Mountain Room Parents:
Today I learned not to have open flames in the same room as a costume parade. ... I learned that I will be unemployed on Monday...
Happy Halloween!
Emily'
(Originally appeared in the New Yorker. I read it at the back of Maria's book, Where'd You Go, Bernadette? - GREAT book.)
(This made me laugh so hard I not only cried but I was also literally rolling on the floor. I'm not kidding.)
'Hi, everyone!
The Mountain Room is gearing up for its Day of the Dead celebration on Friday. Please send in photos of loved ones for our altar. All parents are welcome to come by on Wednesday afternoon to help us make candles and decorate skulls.
Thanks!
Emily
Hi again,
Because I've gotten some questions about my last email, there is nothing "wrong" with Halloween. The Day of the Dead is the Mexican version, a time of remembrance. Many of you chose Little Learners because of our emphasis on global awareness. Our celebration on Friday is an example of that. The skulls we're decorating are sugar skulls. I should have made that more clear.
Emily
Parents:
Some of you have expressed concern about your children celebrating a holiday with the word "dead" in it. I asked Eleanor's mom, who's a pediatrician, and here's what she said: "Preschoolers tend to see death as temporary and reversible. Therefore, I see nothing traumatic about the Day of the Dead." I hope this helps.
Emily
Dear Parents:
In response to the email we all received from Maddie's parents, in which they shared their decision to raise their daughter dogma-free, yes, there will be an altar, but please be assured that the Day of the Dead is a pagan celebration of life and has nothing to do with God. Keep those photos coming!
Emily
Hello.
Perhaps "pagan" was a poor word choice. I feel like we're veering a bit off track, so here's what I'll do. I'll start setting up our altar now, so that today at pickup you can see for yourselves how colorful and harmless the Day of the Dead truly is.
Emily
Parents:
The photos should be of loved ones who have passed. Max's grandmother was understandably shaken when she came in and saw a photo of herself on our altar. But the candles and skulls were cute, right?
Emily
Mountain Room Parents:
It's late and I can't possibly respond to each and every email. (Not that it comes up a lot in conversation, but I have children, too.) As the skulls have clearly become a distraction, I decided to throw them away. They're in the compost. I'm looking at them now. You can, too, tomorrow at drop-off. I just placed a "No Basura" card on the bin to make sure it doesn't get emptied. Finally, to those parents who are offended by our Day of the Dead celebration, I'd like to point out that there are parents who are offended that you are offended.
Emily
Dear Parents:
Thanks to their group email, we now know that the families of Millie and Jaden M. recognize Jesus Christ as their Savior. There still seems to be some confusion about why, if we want to celebrate life, we're actually celebrating death. To better explain this "bewildering detour", I've asked Adela, who works in the office and makes waffles for us on Wednesdays, and who was born in Mexico, to write you directly.
Emily
Hola a los Padres:
El Dia de los Muertos begins with a parade through the zocalo, where we toss oranges into decorated coffins. The skeletons drive us in the bus to the cemetery and we molest the spirits from under the ground with candy and traditional Mexican music. We write poems called calveras, which laugh at the living. In Mexico, it is a rejoicing time of ofrendas, picnics, and dancing on graves.
Adela
Parents:
I sincerely apologize for Adela's email. I would have looked it over, but I was at my daughter's piano recital. (Three kids, in case you're wondering, one who's allergic to everything, even wind.) For now, let's agree that email has reached its limits. How about we process our feelings face to face? 9 A.M. tomorrow?
Emily
Dear Parents:
Some of you chose to engage in our dialogue. Some chose to form a human chain. Others had jobs (!) to go to. So we're all up to speed, let me recap this morning's discussion.
- Satan isn't driving our bus. Little Learners does not have a bus. If we did, I wouldn't still need parent drivers for the field trip to the cider mill. Anyone? I didn't think so.
- Ofrenda means "offering". It's just a thing we put on the altar. Any random thing. A bottle of Fanta. Unopened, not poisoned. Just a bottle of Fanta.
- We're moving past the word "altar" and calling it what is really is: a Seahawks blanket draped over some cinder blocks.
- Adela will not be preparing food anymore and Waffle Wednesday will be suspended. (That didn't make us any new friends in the Rainbow and Sunshine Rooms!)
- On Friday morning, I will divide the Mountain Room into three groups: those who wish to celebrate the Day of the Dead; those who wish to celebrate Halloween; and Maddie, who will make nondenominational potato prints in the corner.
Dear Mountain Room Parents:
Today I learned not to have open flames in the same room as a costume parade. ... I learned that I will be unemployed on Monday...
Happy Halloween!
Emily'
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