School Lottery: You Have To Play To Win

Or, like the real lottery, you play and still don’t win.

I’m learning that my kids certainly didn’t get the luck of the Irish when it comes to school lotteries. When Cordy was entering kindergarten, we applied for the school lottery to keep her at the school where she attended pre-K, knowing it wasn’t her home school but was a good fit for her. We were allowed to lottery for up to three schools, and so I picked two others that had a curriculum that might work for her.

That year, she didn’t get any of her three choices. It was only through an IEP loophole that the school principal made it possible for Cordy to stay at her current school, which has overall been a good place for her.

As much as I try to deny it, Mira will be starting kindergarten next year. (WHERE DID THE YEARS GO?) We had the lottery option again, and chose to select three schools for her. One of the choices – and really our top pick – was Cordy’s school. It only made sense to have them both at the same school, so I would no longer have to coordinate two different school arrivals and then wait an entire hour between bus drop offs in the afternoon. One pickup, one drop off = simple.

Just to be safe, we also listed two other schools in the district with excellent reputations. Our assigned home school is OK, but doesn’t have the academic report card and word-of-mouth recommendations that the other schools do. One of the other choices was a school close to Cordy’s, so at least they’d be close to each other if not at the same school.

I convinced myself that this was just a formality and Mira would likely be accepted to Cordy’s school. After all, the district does state that they have sibling preference as some part of the lottery algorithm.

Proving that my daughters should avoid any games of chance in their lives, the letter arrived last month stating that Mira did not get a spot in any of the schools we tried for. She was so far down on the wait list for each school that they’d have to accept two new classes of kindergarteners before she might even be considered. In other words: no chance at all.

I’m disappointed. Having both girls attend the same school was my ideal option. Not only because it’s an excellent school with teachers and administrators I like and respect, but also because it would have been amazingly convenient for me. If I needed to pick them up, they’d be in one location. There would be only one bus schedule to follow.

If Mira attends our assigned school, it means my kids are on opposite ends of Columbus for the school day, making picking both of them up at the end of the school day impossible without cloning myself or developing transporter technology.

But unlike Cordy’s loophole, there really isn’t a loophole for Mira. She’s not already attending Cordy’s school, and she won’t have an IEP. I’ll keep exploring all options, but everything at the moment points to me accepting disappointment. I can’t take Cordy out of her school – the disruption would be very hard on her – but there’s no way to get Mira closer to her short of moving to a house closer to Cordy’s school. (Which we’ve considered, if it wasn’t for that whole housing market crash.)

I’ll attempt to plead with the principal to see if she knows of any way to make it happen. With Cordy it was easy – the principal and all of the staff were enchanted with her, so they wanted her there. Maybe I’ll take Mira with me to talk to her. Then again, considering Mira and her bossy nature, maybe leaving her at home would be best.