Worst Case Scenario

So, I pulled my kid from her fantastic private school and enrolled her in the fantastic community elementary school down the street. My friends have all told me that I am crazy, and by that I mean making the “crazy” sign and using language like, “you are making a terrible mistake and you will be sorry.” I know there is a very good chance that in January I will show up at the door of the private school, the school where I am keeping my son, where he is flourishing, with my hat in my hand and a giant helping of crow to eat, begging them to take her back. And they might not. And yet I pulled her.

I said it privately, and I’m saying it publicly: the school is a great school, they handled the situation with the boy who was picking on her as well as they could have. His mother is a prince among women, and I can only hope that if I were in her situation I would show as much class as she has shown. I hope she and I can salvage a friendship out of this; I think we can. If I had it to do over again, I’d pick the same school.

The principal is someone whose judgement I would trust with anything. Her teacher is fantastic, like a teacher in a movie, and I mean the kind of movie I never see, the kind where no one sprouts extra legs or eyes or turns into a flesh-eating robot 20 minutes into the film. The kids in her class are all great kids, even the one who tried to push her off the bleachers. It might well have been my kid pushing another kid off the bleachers. I don’t blame my friends for telling me I am crazy.

But still, I pulled her.

She was horribly unhappy. I could tell. She’s been unhappy all year. We couldn’t put a bead on it until a few weeks ago, but she was miserable and terrified, and I made the choice to believe her, and to believe in her.

Chris explained it like this: “It’s almost impossible to evaluate a scenario with an extremely low probability and an extremely high cost.”

He and I might be wrong. We might be a hysterical mother and overprotective father with a paranoid and delusional daughter. I am sure we are — but what if we’re not? I hope we’re wrong, and I’m glad we will always be wrong and that we will never be proved right.

If I pull her, the worst case scenario is that she leaves a wonderful learning environment where she is unhappy to face the unknown of a very different learning environment which people I know and respect tell is is great. The worst case scenario is that I have hurt the feelings of her wonderful teacher and principal, and pissed my friends off. And even in a worst case scenario, I can’t imagine my friends not forgiving me.

If I don’t pull her, the worst case scenario is too horrible to contemplate.

So I pulled her.

I’ve already been through a highly improbable worst case scenario once already, and so I no longer have the luxury of thinking that the improbable is impossible. Even so, I can’t go through life making major decisions based on the lesser of two worst case scenarios. It’s a horrible way to evaluate options.

Nevertheless, I pulled her.

I pulled her to teach her that when you are unhappy, and you have tried to make it work and it’s not working and you can’t see a way for it to work, you make a change. I pulled her to show her that I believe her, and that I trust her judgement. I pulled her because I want her to know that it’s better to be safe than right, and that when she is mortally afraid of a boy who she feels has been cruel to her and who has hurt her, the best choice — the only choice — is to leave.

Do I think her fear is warranted?

I don’t think it matters.