Dear Parents,

Thirty-five years ago - almost to the day, I was on the floor at a small house on Bay Street, sanding and applying Varathane to the floors, getting ready to open the doors of The Child Unique Montessori School. The doors opened in fact, on July 3rd - a date no one understood ("Why open a school the day before the 4th of July?" I was asked). However, for me, it was an important day - July 3rd was my mother's birthday. A fond memory that I like to share is that my mom liked to celebrate her birthday on July 4th because then it would appear that the fireworks were all about her birthday. Since my father was illiterate and wanted me to be well educated, and my mom was born on July 3rd, it seemed appropriate that I would begin a school in a way that reminded me of my parents. My mother, who was seriously afraid of freeways and bridges, had someone drive her to the Encinal and Pacific campuses about once a year. She used to make gumbo for a fundraising event to pay for fences at both campuses. My father didn't live to see The Child Unique, but he would have been proud. The first campus on Bay Street had a fruit bearing apricot tree, which the children loved. Years later, after we moved to the Pacific campus, a parent donated five fruit trees and other parents cultivated a garden in the front yard, dedicated to my dad. It has a small seating area, where I still sometimes go to sit when the weather is nice.

One of the elementary children asked me last week, what will happen when The Child Unique is no longer around. I told him that The Child Unique will always be around - it will just keep getting better. Thirty-five years ago, our first families included the Hollinger-Jackson family, the Standke-Braun family, the Rosko family, and later the Ilacqua family (whose grandchild has gone through TCU/MESA and will return for the summer). I remember people who passed away: Megan Waters, who passed away as a high schooler (I wish I could find her parents); Boreas' baby sister (whose family I think about every time I wear the TCU sweatshirt that bears my embroidered name); Phoenix Toth-Gross's mother Jamie, who passed away so suddenly, that Encinal parents stood in the courtyard, consoling each other while we met with children inside; Kristen Wirth, whose mom was a teacher here while she was a student; the father of Chloe Sherman, who spackled the walls upstairs when elementary was there; and Richard Friend - our first elementary teacher, whose Montessori albums are still here.

Thirty-five years later, I remember the hamster, who fell down the heater vent and ate herself through the wall in the Cultural Room, emerging unharmed. I recall the PE teacher who quit because I wouldn't reprimand the children for ignoring her at the park to help a baby bird who fell from a tree. I remember the many children who were in the care of their grandparents, because of various personal circumstances. I remember the family who fled California fearing deportation. I remember Jailene, whose family arrived undocumented, but who persevered (and she graduated from high school last week).

Thirty-five years later, I recall the kindness of the man at the house on Bay Street, who rented it to me without enough for a deposit. I recall Denise Rosko, TCU parent and realtor, who found the house at Encinal, and through her, restored my love of Victorian architecture and ballet. I remember the ten families who loaned the school $1,000 each, so that we had the down payment to secure the building, lift it up and build the school on the ground floor at Encinal. I remember the kind owner of the Encinal building (the original owner, whose family came to visit - and the recent owner) who sold the building and designed the floor plan for the school itself.

Thirty-five years later, I recall Cassandra Wilder, who came to TCU as an aide, and emerged as one of the most outstanding toddler teachers - to be equaled only by her sister, Verise Jackson, who is one of the kindest and strongest people I know.

Thirty-five years later, I continue to feel honored to be in the presence of staff who are people of excellence, character and love. Sometimes I look at Mari and I just want to grow up to be like her. Through my staff and because of my staff, I am a teacher and student.

Thirty-five years later, I am enlightened by the dialogue with amazing parents who share their experiences and their opinions. I took way too long to change the code at the Encinal campus, but I woke up daily with Caryn Hoadley's admonition - it just took me forever to figure out how to do it (I learned later, after contacting the company in frustration and dismay, that the system is designed to only allow change from the headquarters....)! I am humbled by the many photos that I haven't taken, but the moments which have been captured by Emmanuelle, Jazmin, Fatma, Karen, Laurie and others. I have been supported by the Parent Council, who laugh when I want to cry, give me counsel when I have needed it, and ask the difficult questions, and advise me on some difficult decisions.

Thirty-five years later, I have learned there are some people that I can just count on for certain things: Giselle will ensure that each child's name is properly spelled on certificates. If there is an event, Emmanuelle will be there with his camera taking photos (and he will be able to call them up for years gone by). If we can create a reason to celebrate something on staff, Tiffani will come up with an idea.

And thirty-five years later, I am reminded of the quote: "Never give up on your dreams." We have changed locations, added younger toddlers, increased to elementary and then middle school, moved into the west end in an empty building, and added more grants to improve quality. We have won awards for solid education, good programming and social justice. Our children have been the first to obtain recycling for private schools in Alameda, the first to bring the AIDS quilt to this city, the first to work in businesses for a day, the first private school students to place in the speech contest. We piloted the farm program on the base, performed at Piedmont Gardens (music and dramatic performance) and were the first to send private elementary school students to the Ninth District Court of Appeals. That's a little bit of a 35-year snapshot.

I came up with the name The Child Unique, sitting on my kitchen counter, mulling words over to capture the specialness of children who are sometimes lost in the shuffle of large class sizes, stifled curriculum, or single modal learning. I wanted to be reminded every time we said the words - that every child is not any child - but that amazing child before us - that we have the honor to care and educate.

We are not perfect, and we still have a lot to learn. But after 35 years, I have learned that I don't have to have all of the answers - because we are a village, dedicated to our children. They are unique, they are wonderful, and for 35 years, we have been believing in them, and we won't stop now.

Peace,

Cindy