Back to School 2020

Of all the things we took for granted in a pre-pandemic world -- eating in restaurants, hopping on planes, packing into stadiums like sardines and singing along to our favorite bands -- Back to School is at the top of my list. Every year school just rolled around like clockwork. We would squeeze in one last summer adventure, splurge on new backpacks and shoes, and take slightly obnoxious but necessary photos of our kids holding signs and heading out for their first day. No drama, no judgment. Unlike some of my friends, I never even really stressed about what school my kids would attend. We're public school people, always have been, always would be. 

But then came 2020. 

If you're a parent with children of a school age variety, I'm sure you've been deeply embroiled for weeks and months in conversations about what you're doing this fall, which is code for "Are you sending your kids to school in a pandemic you irresponsible virus skeptic, or are you holding your kids hostage at home you uptight doomsday naysayer?" Most of us, of course, don't fall neatly into either category. We know the virus is real, watch the death toll rise daily, and literally lie awake at night considering our options. Unlike social media trolls who love to boil the dilemma down to a sentence or sound bite, parents actually have to weigh a plethora of considerations such as health risks (both to our kids and teachers and staff), costs (factoring in lost wages and childcare), mental health (particularly salient for older kids and teens), and geographic location (am I in a hot spot?). As July came to a close, parents waited with bated breath to hear what our school districts decided. Would schools be open? Closed? Hybrid? 

The beginning of the story was virtually the same for parents across America, but the ending was different depending on your school district. Both of my kids' schools opted for 100% virtual school model. Some people were thrilled and lauded the school districts choice for keeping everyone safe; some were furious that the school district would opt for a model that failed miserably in the spring and puts the onus of education on parents. Unsurprisingly, when the vast majority of parents weren't willing to pay for virtual preschool, Harper and Ashton's school shut down for the year. 

With the facts now in hand (Harper and Ashton's school was closed, Aidan's default high school was 100% online), I had new choices to make. First, I had to go through my own small grieving process. For years I had pictured dropping Harper and Ashton off together at Wasatch Presbyterian Preschool, our excellent, reasonably priced, NAEYC accredited preschool that feels like home because it's at our home church. Ashton's speech therapist had told me for months that Ashton's speech would grow by leaps and bounds once he starts preschool. And I knew Harper would be so kindergarten ready with a year of WPP Pre-K under her belt. I loved the warm and cozy atmosphere, the experienced teachers, the community of WPP families. As much as my brain was spinning on new solutions, my heart was aching with loss. Aidan had no particular attachment to Highland High but his friends were going there, and, much more so than Harper and Ashton, I knew a lost year of education for him would be much harder to make up later. 

After touring daycares and reaching out to a variety of preschools, I also had to come to terms with the fact that I wasn't all that comfortable with the viral exposure of a typical daycare or preschool either. I went on one tour where there were no less than 50 kids in the building and the Director led the tour with her mask under her nose the entire time. If she couldn't do the simplest precaution to keep everyone safe, why should I trust her with my kids? Luckily, just as despondence was starting to settle in, a good friend and early childhood education teacher, reached out asking if I would want to form a small, outdoor preschool coop. Four families, mandatory masks, outdoor setting. While I still have reservations about outdoor preschool in January, so far I could not be more thrilled with the start of our little preschool. My friend is an excellent teacher and has such a wonderful nature-based curriculum planned for our littles. Harper and Ashton love their school, and I'm realizing how much I love the fact they get to be in a "class" together. Ashton, who is very shy, never hesitated for a second to go with Harper, who is his sun, moon, and stars. And because of how closely we've all developed this idea together, I'm learning so much from my friend about the benefits of outdoor education. There's even a small part of me that thinks it could be fun to get another masters degree in education after this venture. 

Aidan's solution has been equally wonderful. Truthfully, I should have found an alternative solution for Aidan years ago. Despite many amazing teachers and highly rated schools, public school has never been a great fit for Aidan, and he has never thrived in any educational environment he has ever been in. For Aidan, school is to be endured, and I always figured he would just feel that way until he graduated. I'm not saying his new school is a magic bullet, but for the first time in his life, he actually seems excited about school. Maybe because he was tired of sitting in the basement alone, but he genuinely likes his new, small, private school. He loves the uniforms and the small classrooms. He says that all of his teachers are great. The first day of school he had already exchanged phone numbers with three friends. But is it safe, you ask? It sure feels like it. His new school, Judge Memorial, is small to begin with. His freshman class is only 125 students, and during the pandemic, he only goes to physical school with half of them. If your last name starts with A-L, you go to school in-person Monday and Tuesday. If your last name begins with M-Z, you go to school on Thursday and Friday. The days you aren't physically present, you still have to log in online synchronously, in uniform, the other two days. Wednesdays all the students are online and it is essentially office hours for all the teachers. In-person, Aidan has between 2-15 people in his classes (yes, in one class there are only 2 kids with an A-L last name), and everyone has mandatory masks. The other day Aidan said to me, "Mom, I really like having small classes." Assuming he was talking about coronavirus, I said, "Yeah, I feel a lot safer with the small class sizes" and he responded, "No, I mean, yes, but I mean I think I do a lot better with the small class sizes." It may have taken a pandemic, but Aidan is finally in a school where he can thrive. 

Freshman Orientation day

Love those uniforms! Back to school shopping was a snap. 

Watching Aidan cross the street to Freshman Orientation. I was trying to surreptitiously take pictures so as not to embarrass him. 

It made my heart swell that his first day of high school I was able to drop him off to a balloon arch and spirit squad as opposed to sending him to the basement. For the record, I have never seen a single kid, even outside after school, without a mask. 

We're Bulldogs now! Go Judge! 

Harper and Ashton's first day of outdoor preschool.

Our preschool teacher recommended this book to understand the philosophies that underpin outdoor preschool and the way it's been implemented for decades in Scandinavian countries.

More cowbell!

"Sun" week included making sun catchers, melting things, and solar s'mores

We just finished our first three weeks of Fall 2020 school, and so far, it's been more than I could have hoped for. You may hear me sing a different tune in four months when I am dropping my 3 and 5 year old off in 10 degrees weather, but, for now, life is good. Much love and appreciation to all the parents and teachers out there doing the best we can and showing unbelievable amounts of flexibility and dedication.