School is back in session, and it is just as I imagined. Our weeks are a mad dash from Monday to Friday, with us barely catching our breaths on Saturday and Sunday before we start again.
As I sit here, recovering from either exhaustion or perhaps a sneaky case of COVID, I can’t help pondering: Is the traditional school model a good fit for us? Am I okay with how restricted we are by the all-mighty school calendar?
What do I mean by restricted? Just that. We are so entirely enslaved to the school schedule that making any plans, whether it is a simple doctor’s appointment or a visit to family out of town, we have to consider the number of days we’ve missed already and whether we are going to miss one too many days and end up in hot water.
Just traveling during school break is always the answer I’m met with. And we can, and we have, but this goes deeper than vacation time. This is about having the freedom of spontaneity, of dropping everything to do something even more important than school.
Growing up, I remember missing an entire day about once every six weeks so that we could go to my great-grandmother’s house. We would pick her up, take her to Wendy’s for a chicken sandwich and frosty, and then throw bread for the ducks at her local pond. Afterward, we’d play Scrabble in her kitchen until it was time to go home.
And this, to me, was learning. I learned about our family history, including when she drove a paddle boat down the river “ever so straight.” I knew that she could spell any word and that any word she couldn’t spell, probably wasn’t a word. (Joking, but kind of not.) I learned that every day was precious, and those were even more so.
And if this wasn’t learning, I don’t know what is.
Today? In today’s world, missing those days would land us in hot water with administration and more. It isn’t even an option. So, we go to school every day that we absolutely can, missing only when we are sick, and seeing great-grandmothers is relegated to rare weekends.
I know that public school is not all bad; there are so many wonderful things these children learn and many beautiful friendships they form. However, I still can’t help but feel like our lives are tied so heavily into a classroom, where the only thing that truly matters is the test scores and attendance.
Let me be clear here: This is not me saying anything negative about teachers. In my experience, 95% of the teachers I’ve met do whatever they can to make their classrooms seem like less of a cage. They help the students grow in their academic, social, emotional, and imaginative skills to the best of their ability. This has less to do with the people teaching than the institution we’ve forced them to teach within.
As I look at my daughter growing and learning, I want more of the journey to include us together as a family. I want to learn with her, see her spark of excitement fan into flames of curiosity, and more. I want to give her the chance to learn and be whatever she has in her to be. And I’m just not sure a classroom is where she can achieve that.
So, here I am, diving into another year with these doubts in the back of my mind and a sense of yearning…a sense of possibilities…of change…
