Ballard Christian School sat nestled on a hillside overlooking Puget Sound near Golden Gardens park on the West side of Ballard. It was an urban school but absolutely gorgeous. Truly. It was a wonder a kid like Jordan had the chance to be a student at such a fancy place. Even though her dad was the leader of a company, it was a non-profit that served homeless people for Chrissakes, he often said. Not exactly a well-to-do segment of the population and typically not a lucrative career. However, as Ted had learned, in the non-profit world it was possible to bring home a modest salary while at the same time enjoy certain perks afforded by powerful people who’s influence and salaries were larger than life. Ballard Christian School was heavily subsidized and endowed by a number of Christian philanthropists who grew wealthy through the previous decade’s .com boom. Many of these individuals were also on the board of Ted’s organization and they were more than happy to help he and his family live a more comfortable life as a reward for his self-sacrifice and thoughtful service.
The building itself had been newly remodeled and looked high tech: lots of exposed steel beams, braided cabling, exposed raw wood, stamped concrete floors, and expanses of glass characterized the space. Leather furniture littered the hallways and lobbies and students bustled about carrying fancy electronic devices. In addition to incorporating uniforms over the summer, the High School (grades 9-12) implemented a laptop program where each student enrolled received their own computer for the year. It wasn’t an accident that 98% of Ballard students graduated 12th grade and 92% were accepted into college.
Even though BCS was less than a mile from their home, Jordan rode the bus most of the time. She felt very self-conscious wearing her new uniform – she and her mom had exchanged some words about it that morning. But all in all it felt like a relief to get out of the house. Over the past week, the tension had continued to feel like a wet blanket on her head and shoulders – suffocating and isolating. It felt like dad hardly talked with her anymore and when he did, it felt like he was just trying to butter her up or something. Weird. Mom, on the other hand, continued to put more and more responsibilities on her that she either didn’t want to do (Jen’s diapers and Mindi’s playtime) or didn’t feel capable of doing (last Wednesday night she had asked Jordan to take care of dinner – doesn’t she remember that I’m still only ?!). In each case, it served to make Jordan feel all the more alone.
Who’s looking out for me? She wondered more than once over the past week.