Access Denied

I can recount now what happened last fall.  The dust has settled.

With the last entry I had correctly predicted that my ex would try something with the school arrangement.  Things were going too smoothly to leave alone. She now lives with the boyfriend who is a couple miles further away from the school and the 10 minute school drive time annoys her.

The first hint of trouble was when my daughter mentioned to me, during the summer, that Mommy wants her to go to the other school—the one closer to the boyfriend, in another district.  My daughter had been briefed on all the reasons why the other school was so wonderful.  But even that didn't overcome her worry of losing contact with all her school friends.  She didn’t want to change schools.

I didn’t want her to change schools either.  She has been with the same group of kids for years now, since kindergarten.  And some of the kids are neighbors.  I understand that it is an inconvenience for her mother, but it was her choice to move to another district, and she did that three years ago. So I think it is too late to be switching schools. 

In order to avoid a major fight (yeah, right) I called her up and asked nicely about the school rumor.  She assured me over and over that it was just a discussion and she isn’t really going to try that.  In fact, a few weeks later, my ex showed up at the summer tour of the new school building (in my district) so I was a little more at ease with this issue.

But the rumors kept coming.  My daughter said that Mommy is definitely switching her schools.  Again she was distraught.  So this time I asked my lawyer to write her a letter reminding her that we are supposed to make those decisions jointly. It says so in the divorce agreement.  (One letter = $150)  I hoped that was the end of it.

Of course, it wasn’t.  My ex called me and told me that I wasted my money on the letter.  The school choice was her decision and not mine, and she would transfer our daughter if she wanted to.  Again, I reminded her that she is prohibited from making the decision alone.  If we can’t agree, we are required to go to arbitration.  Blah, blah, blah.  She was unimpressed.

Just in case, I went to both district registration offices and gave them copies of the divorce order, just so they would know the situation and the terms of our custody.  The new district officer assured me that they would be on the lookout for an attempted transfer.

But in the end, it didn’t matter what I said, or what the lawyer or divorce order said.  When I took my daughter to school for the first time in the fall, the office administrator made a frowny face as she looked for the class assignment.  “No, she was transferred out,” she told us.  My daughter waved to her friend in the hallway.

Here we go, dammit.  Apparently, Mommy had transferred her out the day before school started in my district.  And the registrars of both schools had allowed it without even notifying me.  All I could do was talk to the counselor at my school.  She was nice enough, but she seemed to have the attitude, that well, the mother has made the decision and that is that. Fathers don’t really have a say in it.

We left the school and her friends and returned home.  I started collecting copies of papers, made lawyer appointments, and counted how much money was in my checking account.

My lawyer dragged his feet some and days went by while my daughter started school in the new district with all new kids and new surroundings.  She wasn’t the least bit comfortable.  Eventually I changed lawyers and insisted that we do something.  I had prepared everything that was needed.  I had all the papers, and I had the rationale as to why this was a violation of the agreement. I wrote it all up into a neat little package.  The new lawyer agreed with it all, but didn’t hold out much hope in getting things reversed.  Still, we made an emergency request for a hearing that day.

Two hours later I was driving to the court house when I see my ex in my rear view mirror.  Even at a distance I could see that she was on fire with anger.  It scared me a little.  But the situation was forced upon me.  She should have just followed the divorce order.

We sat for a short while in the court room, while she glared at me, wishing I would drop dead, when the judge finally came out.  The judge was a no-nonsense African American woman who wanted to be home and not at an emergency hearing.  She sat down and quickly got down to business.

Let me get this straight, she started.  You were both married, divorced, and have this agreement, right?  The agreement says that you both have to participate in school decisions, right?  But one of you transferred the child to a new school even after it was made clear that this was not agreeable to the father, right?

I liked where this was going (but I didn’t dare show it).

My ex had an opportunity to say why she made the decision, but didn’t really have any good reason.  So after the facts were all revealed for everyone, the judge made her decision so she could get out of there.  The parents will go to arbitration, as required.  And the child will immediately go back to her regular school until that process is completed. AND, the defendant will reimburse me for my legal expenses.  Awesome!  I couldn’t believe it.

“But!” my ex said.  “It isn’t legal for her to go to that school,” suggesting that the mother’s greater parenting time trumps all—which it doesn’t.

Wow.  She just told the judge what was legal. In the back of my head I heard myself say “ouch.”  I think I took another step away from her direction, just in case. 

The judge paused, looked over her glasses at my stubborn ex-wife and said sweetly, “Honey, if I say it’s legal, it’s legal.   Court dismissed!”

I was instantly thrilled and terrified.  How would I get out of here alive?  When I got to the hallway, my ex was in my face immediately.  “You’re such an a__hole.  I’m going to make you pay more child support, retroactive back to the beginning!”

I tried saying something about how I really had no choice, but it was no use.  She was already on the phone to her lawyer, or somebody--maybe a hitman.

The next day I took the signed court order to the old school registrar and asked them to re-enroll my daughter.   I thought it would be an easy process, after all, I had a court order signed by an irritated judge, and they still had my daughter’s records here.

But I was foiled again.  My ex had called the mean lady at the registration office and told her that I was trying to pull one over on them.  I was trying to break the law.  The mean lady was ready for me before I even got there.  She told me No.  She took the order, looked at it like it was an old wrapper that had been stuck to her shoe, and then tossed it back on the counter.  She made some calls to someone and then came back and said that I can’t register her.  The law says that the child goes to the district of the primary parent. 

I tried to explain over and over that there is no primary parent in this case.  It says so right in our papers.  We’re equal. “See?  Right here. It says so.  And here is the court order.”  Nope, she tells me, without looking at the papers.  She says I don’t know what I’m talking about and she has been doing this for 20 years. (It was easy to see that being a jerk for 20 years had made her a pro.) Come back Monday and talk to her boss.

Frustrated and annoyed, I left.  On Monday I returned and this time things were different.  My good friend had talked to the superintendent and explained it all.  It didn’t take much for the super to understand that the court order must be followed.  So this time, just as the mean lady was about to insult me some more, she got a call from the superintendent.  “Yes. He’s here now,” she says into the phone.  “Well yes, of course,” she says and hangs up politely.  She collects herself, turns to me and asks me to please fill out a form and they will take care of everything immediately.

“Thank you so much,” I tell her with a smile that completely hides that fact that I really hate her.

My daughter went back to school that day.

Now the arbitration.  We met with the same guy that helped us with our divorce agreement.  We went over the whole issue, and I came prepared.  I had mapped out on paper exactly how the school location affected each of us.  Turns out, the total drive time (for both parents combined) for school was shorter with the old district.  After all, Mommy drove by the school on the way to work.  And of course the primary reason for staying put is the familiar environment for my daughter. 

We both argued our cases.  We both wanted more time with our daughter in addition to the school question.  And after an hour, we were out of there. 

It took a week or more, but the decision finally arrived in an email.  I sat at work and read though pages of legal talk and rationales looking for the final decision.  Finally, the statement I was looking for.  Since the parents had already agreed on the old district for the past few years, there was no compelling reason to move her out.  She can stay with her friends in the same school.  Yay!  Finally!

That was great.  I was very pleased with that decision.  Then the arbitrator went on to decide on other issues.  On parenting time, he gave Mom the Wednesday night dinners I enjoyed, and then decided I alone would pay his fees—about $1,500.  That sucked, but at least the school thing was settled.  It was a victory.  The child’s wellbeing was more important than Mom’s convenience.

I have to say that even now, months later, my daughter is still thrilled to be going to this school.  She is eager to go every morning, and very happy to play with her friends in the after-school club.   When I pick her up or drop her off, she is all smiles.  I never did get my legal reimbursement, but I didn't have my child support bill raised either.

In the past four years, almost every negotiation and decision went against me.  But this time, Good prevailed over Evil.  At least that is how I like to think of it.