PC WARNING: This post was inspired by Louis C.K’s “mild racism” riff on last week’s SNL. It got me reminiscing.
In case you aren’t from Chicago, this is Francis Parker School. From pre-K to high school, it is one of the premiere seats of learning in Chicagoland.
Founded in 1901, it is located at 330 West Webster Avenue.
According to its website, “Parker seeks a diverse group of students to join our community….Our students benefit from an accomplished and inspiring faculty, an exhilarating curriculum and a vast array of arts, athletics, student clubs and activities…In a quickly changing world Parker students remain intellectually agile, connected and discerning about what is important.”
It is a private day school.
Tuition this year for grade 11 is $34,270.
This is Paul Robeson High School.
Formerly known as Parker High School. (It changed its name is 1979.)
It is located at 6835 South Normal Boulevard in Chicago.
According to its website, “Paul Robeson’s mission is to provide a high quality and comprehensive college-preparatory experience to every young man or woman who attends our school…While most of Robeson’s students come from economically and socially disadvantaged households and trailing in many subject matters, Robeson remains in the forefront for preparing each student for post-secondary success and beyond!”
It is a public day school.
The tuition is free.
Back in 1969, my parents and my then-fifteen year old brother had just moved back from California. My dad’s job had vanished- along with his promised stock options- when the company where he worked sold out to a bigger corporation.
At fifty, he figured that starting over would be easier back in his old home town. He had lifelong business connections here and a ton of good will.
And my mother missed her family, Kenny wasn’t enamored of Birmingham High and I was getting married in July.
So they moved into the Belden-Stratford Hotel on Lincoln Park West to map out their futures.
(My brand new bridegroom and I also moved in there as we waited for our apartment to be finished. My very first days as a bride- learning to cook, hosting dinner parties, keeping house, feeling so grownup- took place in an apartment on the eighth floor.)
While my father plotted out his new career, my brother needed to enroll for his junior year in high school.
My mother wasn’t too sure if she wanted to move back to the suburbs so my brother could go to New Trier as I had done. He wouldn’t turn sixteen until October, and she wasn’t keen on the prospect of driving him back and forth to school every day.
Her thoughts now turned to high schools in the city. And back in those days, that meant private schools.
Given the proximity to the Belden-Stratford, naturally her first choice was Francis Parker. It was only 0.10 of a mile away. Kenny could walk that easily.
She shared these thoughts with Kenny and my dad. My dad was okay with it- provided he could swing the tuition. Kenny was willing to look into it, too.
And so my dad got deputized to check out Parker and look into the enrollment process.
He dutifully did as he was bid. He went to the school, checked out the campus, met with the principal there and asked about Kenny’s chances of being accepted.
(And how much it would cost if he did get in.)
The principal was confused. Really baffled by my father’s questions.
And rightly so.
My father had gone to the other Parker.
It finally got straightened out and a good thing, too.
My father could afford it alright but I don’t think Kenny could ever have made the team.
Ellen — Living at the Belden-Stratford Hotel at least gave you proximity to the great old Belden Deli, home of great matzoh ball soup and corned beef sandwiches. There are some advantages to hotel living, like clean sheets daily.
True, Jack. And Al Farber’s was right down stairs. Thanks for the politically-correct comment this morning.
After attending Francis W. Parker’s 50th reunion, I finally got to see how “diverse” Joy’s class really was.
She has fond memories of going to the Belden Deli every free afternoon for delicious French fries swimming in ketchup.
My New Trier class of 1200 kids in 1967 was probably just as “diverse.” Um not. Reverse Diverse. Thanks, David. (Back in the day, I liked my fries with ketchup and mustard.)
And so I say with great laughter and cheer
Up with South Shore and down with New Trier!!
You finally got me. I’ve been “Berned.”
Funny story. All’s well that ends well. I’m glad I went back to New Trier!! Great fun in high school.
Yes, I’m glad you went to New Trier, too. But who knows? If you had gone to the other Parker, you probably would have made the baseball team.
I had been led to believe that Kenny would be more interested in “Field of Dreams” than “Hoop Dreams.” BTW, Ellen, thanks for the heads-up about Louie CK, whose birth name, Google informs, was Louis Szekely. In other words, just another insanely talented Hungarian.
So true, Doc. Kenny also went in for soccer in a big way in high school. Maybe he should have tried out for the cast of “Ladybugs?” And yes, re the Hungarian connection, I guess it takes one to know one. Thanks, George.
True, I was born in Hungary, but all my schooling since kindergarten was in the USA, and I have not been back since we escaped after the Hungarian Revolution (I was a toddler; my brother in utero. My parents retained the accents over the a’s in the last name, but the younger generations dropped them.
As for my Hungarian language skills, I can still count from 1 to 10, but not in that order. Plus, all of my crossword puzzles are in English.
All I can say is “Koszomom szepen. Viszlat!” (You trying typing that with auto-correct.)
That’s hilarious.
Köszönöm = thank you!
Köszönöm szépen! = thank you very much!
Viszontlátásra = goodbye
No retyping necessary, just google, cut, paste
This should come in very handy on my next visit to Zsa Zsa’s home town.
As a proud graduate of the Parker which your father did not visit, I can assure you that, diversity or not, Kenny would have been welcome; and would have played.
Yes, I wish my dad had seen the “right” Parker. I’m sure he would have been a fine addition to the team. Thanks, Bob.
Do you remember the guy at the front desk at the Belden? The blond haired, blue eyed man who looked like the most beautiful women I had ever seen. He/she was gorgeous and friendly.
I don’t! Not a glimmer of a recollection. He/she must have paid more attention to you. Interesting. Thanks, X-1.