Slips into the sea eventually”
In the early 1980s I won the junior division of a sand castle contest. My partner and I beat out our nemesis and several other teams with a stunning interpretation of Point Loma. The funny thing is, we didn’t set out to build Point Loma. In fact, our original design (the one we’d practiced and planned for weeks to do) was the space shuttle. Point Loma was our Plan B.
The theme of the contest that year was something like “dream big” so we thought space shuttle and the moon. The shuttle seemed big so we planned and practiced to be ready. Our nemesis (if you’ve seen any teen movie with an arch rival you get the idea) had a team of people and parents who bought him every tool and product to use. We had some brushes, a few trowels and shovels, a few buckets, and some bottles of hairspray and water mixtures. They gloated and commented on our rag tag operation, we got to work. They reminded us constantly that their rendition of Space Mountain would crush our bush league operation.
When our plans fell through, we started to believe them.
Things started out well but went south when we started adding detail to our shuttle shape. With 90 minutes to go in the contest all we had was a moon looking circle of sand with a mound of sand that looked vaguely like a banana someone left in their backpack too long. The others relished our setback. It seemed that glitz and fancy tools would take the glory once again.
My teammate Brian and I sat on the beach staring out past the waves. Our grown ups knew enough to leave us alone. Should we quit and skulk off? Should we try our shuttle again or maybe start on something new in the time remaining? We opted for Plan B. Now we just needed to figure out what Plan B was…
I don’t know how we decided on Point Loma as Plan B, but it was do-able so we got to work. Our shuttle morphed in the peninsula. Gradually we added texture and color to the sides using different color sands. We reconfigured our moon into the iconic red roof of the Hotel del Coronado. In the closing minutes we added the lighthouse onto the point. We wrapped up with something we were proud of and waited for the judges.
As the judges approached our nemesis and his cronies snickered. The judges' enthusiasm for our product surprised them as much as it surprised us. A judge asked us if we had set out to make Point Loma… Brian and I looked at each other and told the judges our story. Instead of diminishing their enthusiasm, our honesty stoked it even more.
Somehow we won. We got a huge gift certificate to 31 Flavors and our picture on the front page of the local paper (above the fold even). As much as I enjoyed coming out ahead of What’s His Name’s fancy, well financed operation, I’m psyched we didn’t crumble like our space shuttle. In our time of need Plan B revealed itself. Sometimes Plan B is just waiting for its chance and it turns out sometimes Plan B is the way to go.
Last Friday I shut down Do.Think.Learn’s office. After our corporate landlord added several “convenience” fees to our monthly tab which essentially doubled our rent we needed to change it up. Commercial rentals in Calabasas were already ridiculous and when that rent alone exceeds 70% of your gross it’s time for some new. I’m not sure what that something new will be yet, but I have an amazing student whose parents understand the situation and support DTL beyond what I could ever expect. So while I wait for Plan B to emerge, we will base DTL out of a student’s home for the time being.
I’m not sure what the future holds, but I keep coming back to that sand castle contest. Like Brain and I, DTL doesn’t have the resources of other schools. For better and worse we have kept to our DIY ethos. On the plus side, I don't think we have any nemeses in the microschool world, but we’ll probably never be the cool kids. DTL wasn’t planning to be in this situation, but I reckon it’s time to let go of what was and start reshaping the present to build the future.