A 4x4 pastel floral journal offered me the insight and hope America needed. Over twelve years ago, I uprooted my pregnant self to relocate for a better life. A single family household living under my mother’s roof with no foreseeable income, but still a better place. Why? Because staying would be unsafe, stressful, and a sad atmosphere – the absolute opposite of what a baby needs. Someone else or everyone else may think it’s hopeless but the alternative was far from an option. This led to the creation of my post pregnancy grateful journal. It’s amazing how a few lines on paper can enlighten one’s spirit. If there ever was a time that myself, my family, our community, and our nation needed hope, welcome 2011!

Locally, the biggest example lies in the public school corporation.  The 1980s heavy metal band, Cinderella, “You don’t know what you’ve got til’ it’s gone” ballad couldn’t have said it better. The quoted lyrics can be words to live by. A great analogy for our grateful journal’s theme.  Take it from me that a decent let alone good public school is not the national norm. In fact, before we arrived in the Midwest, that concept was a myth or something I merely heard about in passing when discussing my Massachusetts and Connecticut cousins. For my Southern upbringing, public education didn’t exist. Instead, parents sent all of their children to a coed or all boys/girls private institution for the full twelve years. In fact, when I became a mother, I scrambled to find a way to pay my son’s tuition.

Fast forward to Indiana living and I find myself having an epiphany. The light bulb that appears above Road Runner’s head turns on above mine. Eureka! Private is not the only answer. The first day I enrolled my son into a Bloomington elementary school, I accidentally provided the comic relief to the office faculty. How? Well, it was simple. When the office asked if my child would be riding the school bus daily, I merely inquired about the cost. The faculty sat there bewildered. It was as if I’d just stripped down to my birthday suit.  What a foreign concept for them? As far of a foreign concept as my thinking something related to education would be free? To be specific, in 2005, a private Louisiana pre-school tuition started at approximately $12,000. Those five figures represent a mere baby step towards full enrollment. Parents must still pay for school uniforms (with shirts costing $22 a piece), bus transportation (at $2,000/year), a cafeteria plan (tack on a few extra thousand), after school care (add more $$), and (God forbid) tutoring. However, after all of the above, a decent education still wasn’t a guarantee. Ludicrous right?

So, MCCSC school textbook prices may increase annually and certainly the elimination of foreign languages in middle schools crushes me as a parent, but the positives overshadow the thoughts of the alternative five figures. Be grateful! New Orleanians would kill for an above average public education. Be grateful Monroe County taxes get allocated to MCCSC. Be grateful students in need will find mentoring and support in their actual school. Be grateful for all that’s available and not focus on what may be lacking. Be grateful teachers offer assistance and don’t believe that’s beyond the realm of their job description.

In fact, Monroe County stands behind their residents in several additional ways. Before Bloomington, I’d never experienced a city focused on families. Be grateful Parks and Recreation is an actual facet of the local government. Be grateful you don’t have to own a pool or join a country club to take the kids swimming. The same can be said regarding working out. New Orleans requires parents to exercise either in their living rooms, outside, or at a high priced fitness center or private club. An enormous 5,000 square foot YMCA would be a fairytale in my hometown.

I implore my fellow Bloomingtonians to step back and absorb the bigger picture. In comparison to NOLA, Monroe County lavishes its residents with amenities. Regarding family dynamics as a whole, Bloomington resembles a five star hotel when my hometown embodies La Quinta.

Don’t get me wrong. I adore my Louisiana roots and miss several aspects of my beloved city including the amazing food and music plus the priceless history. However, I could forever live without the poor excuse for higher learning. Unfortunately, the NOLA education process will remain a dysfunctional constant until there’s a mutiny on the government’s privatization of benefits. Last I checked, the upper crust weren’t covering all the taxes, but still reaping all the rewards. Be grateful Bloomington lies miles away from Hurricane valley and the fish bowl I call home. Just think – New Orleans actually acknowledges a fifth season – Hurricane season. Frankly, after living in the Midwest for five years, I’d choose hurricanes over “black ice” any day.

I understand my words may seem outlandish to the native Bloomington Hoosiers. And in fact, if I only knew this fair city, I couldn’t agree with you more. I only hope at least one person gains a better perspective on how far different American cities standards can be. Be grateful the education platform here stands far above the bottom of the barrel. New Orleans and its sister cities could garner a wealth of knowledge if the politicians in control would take a page out of Bloomington’s playbook.

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