Not long ago there was a time when I came dangerously close to ‘death by PTA’.  There were a few deciding factors that had delivered me from this fate, but it is the friendship of Suzie Case that I recall most fondly.

I spent several years participating in volunteer opportunities that were related to our kids’ education and extra-curricular activities.  My motivation grew from a desire to enrich the experience of my own children and that of their peers.  I sought to demonstrate the absolute value of community service.

As a former member of the all-or-nothing club, I went full-scale with PTA.  By the time that the youngest of our three children had entered kindergarten, I had been on the PTA board of our elementary school for 6 years, serving as committee chair, secretary, vice president and president.

As is typical in any organization, I developed many ongoing relationships with other grown-ups.  The bulk of these relationships remained mostly superficial out of pure necessity.  The process of working efficiently in any environment that includes a sizable number of adults requires mindful leadership.  In order to complete the tasks at hand I found myself stroking egos, listening to complaints, squelching gossip, repairing trysts, and generally employing every available tactic at my disposal to keep people motivated.

We got a lot done.  We initiated several new programs and improved upon existing ones to enhance the experience of our kids’ public school education.  Teachers were happy, parents felt proud of their accomplishments, administration loved us, and the kids were enjoying their school.  I was tired.

It was a Sunday evening.  I was standing on a ladder trying to finish painting the few remaining clouds on the ceiling of the school cafeteria.  As part of an ongoing beautification project, a group of us had dedicated several nights and weekends to redecorating the interior of the dining hall to reflect a castle courtyard theme, complete with faux stone walls, a huge friendly dragon, and expansive blue sky.  There were a handful of parents and one teacher who had been there with me since early afternoon.  We were trying to complete  the project before school started Monday.  I had brought my son James along with me while Mr. Bean stayed home with the girls.  I looked down from my marathon perch atop the ladder to notice that James was standing with one foot on the bottom rung.  “Mom,” he spoke softly.  “When can we go home?”  I looked around and could see through the windows that it had already gotten dark outside.  I had been so intent on getting those clouds done that I had barely noticed how late it was.  Exhaustion blended with a fair amount of frustration swept over me ever so gently and I felt myself begin to cry.  I was overcome with a heavy-heartedness.  I have no idea how long I was weeping up there on top of that ladder with my head firmly planted in the crook of my arm until I felt Suzie Case reach up and take the paint brush out of my hand.  She had situated James and her daughter Kate at a nearby table where they were sharing some fudge bars that Suzie had obviously procured from the school’s kitchen freezer.  “Let’s go outside,” she stated plainly.

Suzie and I sat on the stoop just outside of the cafeteria door long enough for me to always remember how peaceful and comforting that moment was.  We didn’t talk much.  She displayed no reaction when I lit a cigarette that I had dug from a well-hidden location in my purse, there was no judgment in her voice when I expressed my revelations on volunteer excess, and she didn’t flinch when I started to sob more.  She just sat there with me, guarding my solitude for as long as I needed her to be there.

I still run into Suzie on occasion.  Her youngest daughter and mine remained the best of friends throughout elementary school and Suzie and I spent many of those years involved in their school related events.  As our girls gradually grew apart in middle school, it seemed that Suzie and I gradually eased out of the parent volunteer scene.  Younger and more exuberant parents have taken the helm and I am thankful.  On the rare occasions that I do see or talk with Suzie now, it is always a genuine and heartfelt encounter.  I’ll always treasure that time we had together on the stoop that one Sunday evening when Suzie Case had delivered me from PTA hell.

We did finish that damn cafeteria, too.

Tags: death by PTA, parent volunteer, PTA