The Queue

This morning I arrived at 6:55am to find that I am number 28 in the line-up for late French Immersion, class maximum is 30. I wiped the sweat from my brow, phoned the next mom on my list, and settled in for a 24 hour wait. Lawn chairs, blankets, coffee mugs of epic proportions surround me. I take a moment to let it all sink in. I wonder not only if my 10-year old has any appreciation for what I'm doing for her, but also if half of Salmon Arm is shutting down today. I see construction workers, a doctor, a counsellor, two music teachers, a speech pathologist, a dance instructor, a financial advisor, and another couple of dozen people whose profession will remain a mystery because they are so deeply involved with their laptops that they may never speak. Perhaps tonight when the poker game breaks out and everyone's support network starts delivering prohibited substances we'll get to know each other a little more. Right now, the early and late immersion parents are just happy to have a secure spot for their kid in the program, a decision that may or may not have anything to do with their dedication to the French language. Many are just seeking alternatives.