Protesters shouted from my TV. As I watched, my stomach moved its way up into my throat.

I watched more. Tears rolled down the cheeks of people I didn’t know.

I watched. Cars were overturned.

I watched. People walked together and chanted.

I watched. A young man shot. A man choked and dead. And I watched.

My 10-year-old son emerged from his bedroom as the news played across the television. He stopped behind my right shoulder, watching as Eric Garner held his arms above his head and a police officer choked him and pushed him to the ground. He watched as Eric Garner gasped 11 times, “I can’t breathe.”

“What’s this,” he asked.

“The news,” I responded.

“Is this happening here?”

“Yes.”

“In America?”

“Yes.”

Usually when my son comes out at night to ask a question, I answer and tell him to go back to bed. But I didn’t this time. As homeschooling parents, we try to present a full picture of history and current events to our children: Columbus’s arrival resulted in the slaughter of millions, the Declaration of Independence was written when all people were not treated as equals, slavery didn’t end with the Civil War, the Civil Rights Movement didn’t stop with Martin Luther King Jr., Stonewall shouldn’t be overlooked, and torture is wrong. And so my son and I watched together.

We watched and we talked. We talked about how justice in this country often tilts away from African-Americans and people of color. And as we talked, I thought of Eric Garner and his children. His children will never have another conversation with their father. They will never get to hear his advice or his recounting of a story. I have always told my kids that if they are in trouble or lost, they should find a police officer. But would a black parent give their kids the same advice? Would I if I were black?

I am not anti-law enforcement. My wife and I teach our children to respect and honor police officers and there are many good officers (some who are close friends and neighbors) that take seriously their pledge to protect and serve. The problem is not with individual officers; the entire system is broken. And even individual officers who are otherwise blameless shoulder the guilt of a system that is unjust.

Now I know that often times liberal white men (like me) love to preach against racism from our white privileged couches. We act as though we are Jerry McGuire yelling, “I love black people.” We want everyone to see us and say, “There’s a good white guy.” And I don’t want to be another white guy writing about racism as though I know what it feels like to be a person of color in America. There is no way that someone like me can fully comprehend it.

But that doesn’t mean that my heart doesn’t ache for those who experience the pains of racism. That doesn’t mean that I have nothing to add to the conversation. When we ride the subway in NYC, you’ll hear over the speaker, “If you see something, say something.” My blog is my outlet. My blog is my voice. I have something to say. I have somewhere to say it.

I don’t want to watch while injustices are happening around me.

My family recently joined marchers in New York City. One of the things we shouted as we marched was “Black lives matter!” As a white dad raising white kids, it’s my job to teach this to my children. That all people are created by God in his image and are equal.

The pessimist in me believes racism will always be here. That nothing will change. But the optimist in me hopes – hopes that racism will end someday. For that to happen, we have to teach our kids to value all human lives. We have to teach our children that justice matters and that, as The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

A version of this first appeared on One Good Dad. Photo: © Sabrina / Adobe Stock.

It’s such a strange disconnect between my real life joy and the worry in my mind these days.

It feels like the world is falling down around me, yet, on my little island, everything seems sunny and bright. Quite literally as well as figuratively.

Every day for the past several weeks, the Florida weather has been relentlessly bright, clear, dry and hot. Completely inappropriate for an apocalypse. And inside the walls of our suburban home, with an air conditioner that whirs and rumbles most hours of the day and night, things are cheery and comfortable. The halls are filled with squeals of joy and laughter that bounce off the wood floors and invade every corner.

Sure, there is also infighting and whining, and tears of indignation brought on by the most recent personal affront doled out by a sibling, but all in all, our home remains a happy one. It’s surprising, really. Our routines, schedules, activities and even our school days were yanked out from under us just a few weeks ago.

I had expected my three children would be more disoriented by the upheaval, but they’ve taken it all in stride. Their insouciance is almost unnerving. Like the big orange street cat that sprawls out on our driveway and refuses to move until an oncoming car is about 12 inches away.

Perhaps one upside of living an introverted, mostly insular existence is that my children are used to us doing our own thing. They’re used to being entertained by their parents, each other, and of course, the television and iPad.

Or maybe it’s just true what they say. Perhaps kids can really adapt to anything. But can adults? Can I? That’s the real question.

Keeping my worry on the inside

My wife is a labor and delivery nurse at a nearby hospital. At the moment, I’m thankful — for my own selfish reasons — that she’s not an ER or ICU nurse. Still, she works in a hospital, so that’s reason enough for me to worry. However, I have managed to channel my fear and anxiety into mostly positive action. I’ve spent most of my recent days caring for the children, trying to work from home on writing projects, and refreshing the COVID-19 stats website seven million times. I did say mostly positive action, not completely positive action.

On one of her off days, my wife found a homeschool schedule that seemed somewhat realistic and we began to follow it.

The schedule was relatively simple. We took one of our chihuahuas — the more agreeable one — on a walk in the morning after breakfast. Then we did academic time, creative time, lunch, chore time, recess, quiet time, technological academic time, P.E., and, everyone’s favorite, TV time.

When my wife was home and we could share the job of wrangling a second grader, kindergartner, and 3-year-old, it was actually relatively pleasant. Tiring, but pleasant.

The beginning of formal distance learning for my kids’ elementary school changed things. We began to slip away from our little schedule because there were actual assignments to keep up with and video conferences to do and my 5-year-old got Animal Crossing for his birthday.

But still, all things considered, we are doing pretty well. When my wife is not working, we do a pretty decent job keeping the kids entertained and marginally on task. Of course, when my wife works, it’s a bit more frantic and scattershot with only one adult present.

And there’s the additional burden of the worry that sits on my chest like an anvil.

Fear checks in

She’s up and dressed well before dawn. If I happen to still be sleeping in our bed, which is rare since our 5-year-old typically pulls me into his bed shortly after midnight, she stops to kiss me and say goodbye. By the time I’m fully awake and starting my day, she’s been at work for at least an hour.

As I brew a cup of coffee and fetch cereal bowls and cups of water, I try to decide how soon is too soon to ask how things are.

I pull out my phone, type out a text and then delete it.

It can wait. I have work to do. An impromptu homeschool to manage. Children to feed. Trampolines to bounce on. COVID-19 stats to refresh.

There’s nothing to worry about, right? At least, there’s nothing to worry about that I can control.

So, I slide my phone back into my pocket and move on to the next thing. Whether that’s breaking up a fight or trying to unlock 17 different distance learning apps. I focus on what’s directly in front of me and try to ignore the bigger picture. I make like Anna from Frozen 2 and do the next right thing.

Because right now, each of us has to focus on doing the next right thing in front of us. Stay home when we possibly can. Protect ourselves, our families, our healthcare workers and everyone in harm’s way. Do our small part and shove aside the rest. At least for an hour or two.

“How’s it going?” I finally text no later than 10 in the morning.

“Not bad so far.”

“That’s good.”

A temporary relief. Better not to ask for more details. Instead, I make three peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, get out the sidewalk chalk, and head outside to soak up the hot midday sun. Hoping with everything I have that the stunning brightness can keep the darkness at bay.

Joy and worry photo: © Antonioguillem / Adobe Stock.

Homeschooling is here indefinitely, and there’s lots of logistics to consider. The biggest for many of us being how to make sure that the kids are learning, and that their homeschooling schedule meshes with our own home/work schedule.

We attempted to have our 11-year-old son follow an academic schedule of sorts at the start. That worked a little, but there was so much crying and whining and “NO, I can’t possibly use THAT pencil!” that I’m not sure how we are going to survive. Here was our original homeschooling schedule, the idea was for 25-minute segments with 15 minutes for resting. It now looks ambitious.

9 a.m. — Social studies. Watched the first part of Crash Course in World History. I asked him to take notes, which he did, but he thought it was boring. I think that was reflexive more than anything else. It turns out he didn’t know a lot of the words, so I had him watch it again, and we went over all the words he didn’t know.

9:40 a.m. — Reading/English Language Arts. He was allowed to read the LitRPG (Literature Role Play Game) novel he’s been reading, but I asked him to summarize each chapter after he read it. This was a huge fight. He eventually agreed. His summaries were poor (and the handwriting very difficult to read.)

10:20 a.m. — Spanish. He’s not actually taking Spanish, but he didn’t want to do Chinese which is what he takes in school, and so we agreed on Spanish using the Duolingo app. (We are still expecting to go back to Barcelona this summer, although the virus may change our plans, so knowing some Spanish would be helpful.)

11 a.m.-noon — Lunch.  Still his favorite subject of the day.

Noon — Writing.  I had him write a five-paragraph essay on why school should only be two hours long. His essay wasn’t bad, but it was only three paragraphs and not that organized.

1 p.m. — Coding/programming.  He wanted to do Minecraft mod coding, which is something he already kind of knows how to do. My wife and I said no: learn Python, HTML, JavaScript or CSS. This turned into a big fight.

1:40 p.m. — Math. This actually turned into phys ed, which was spent playing sports on the WiiU since it was very cold out. He went downstairs to do this, which meant he was out of my hair. This went longer than it was supposed to go, because I wasn’t focused on it.

2:30 p.m. — Physical education. We switched this out with math, which was probably a better idea.

3:20 p.m. — Free choice (but no electronics). He ended up sitting and reading and then counting down the seconds to 4 p.m.

4-6 p.m. — Open play online with friends or alone. This was the only thing that really started on time.

Homeschooling lessons learned

• In retrospect, our schedule was way too much and too crowded. But I don’t want my son on the computer the whole time, and I have other stuff to do that doesn’t include sitting with him and coming up with algebraic problems.
• His handwriting is atrocious. We need to spend some time working on handwriting skills.
• Being a teacher of 11-year-olds requires either the patience of a saint or the hardened feelings of a serial killer. Or both.

The next day, the school did have some assignments to do, but this took maybe an hour to do, all in. There are another six to seven hours of the day to schedule/fill.

Part of me is: OK, let’s take on the role of homeschool teacher, and I will finish all the assignments he’s given, driving him like a slave driver. That’s what he needs is someone pushing him harder, and then he will see the error of his ways and become a genius self-starter (like you know, Elon Musk or Steven Spielberg. Then we will be sitting on easy street, watching his royalty checks roll in like the tide.

The other part of me (probably the sensible part) is saying: NO WAY! Give him rules and structure, but let him figure it out on his own. He will find his own way, and for me to impose my expectations on him is just wrong on a number of levels, and will end up squelching him. He gets where he gets, and I shouldn’t get upset.

I know my reality is somewhere in the middle, but these two extremes pull at me.

I am pretty great with kids (I am a professional clown) and have a lot of patience for other people’s kids, but little patience for my own child. I have a low tolerance for my son’s whining and carping on little details, and his cleverness in trying to avoid work — possibly because I recognize it so much in my own life. When he does that, I get unproportionally pissed off. (Or when he professes that he doesn’t understand something when he clearly does — but saying he doesn’t understand it means he doesn’t have to do it.)

The big question

So how do I NOT be a hard-ass while at the same time get him to be excited about school, and get him to (MOSTLY) be a self-starter about this stuff? I welcome your advice and hard-fought stories in the comments.

A version of this first appeared on Dadapalooza.

Photo: © Aksinia / Adobe Stock.

I am asked repeatedly if I miss homeschooling my children. My answer is consistently a resounding, “no.”

The only part of homeschooling I miss is the flexibility it afforded. We were able to travel the world and homeschool on the road. When we read a book, we could visit the city where the book took place. Since the coronavirus has pushed me back into the homeschool teacher seat, I thought I should share how I’m planning to go about my day and what tools I am using.

The schedule is critical. Starting off the day the same as usual helps get kids back into the mindset of learning. After breakfast, everyone cleans up and we set up our stations around the table. Each kid gets out a pen, pencil and paper. They do this themselves. I set the older ones up first and I give them their instructions and they are off. My pre-K child requires more one-on-one, so I sit next to her until she is at a place where she can go at it alone. From there, I alternate between each kid. My oldest is a teenager and his school provided him with lessons. He only needs a prodding now and then.

When I homeschooled in the past, I purchased all my materials and plans. I’m not doing that for this brief time. I went back and looked through my old lessons to the times I needed help in teaching a subject. During the quarantine period, I am using those sites as our curriculum.

Here’s my homeschool day:

Reading: I’m using Scholastic. The tutorials are self-guided, which means little involvement from me. The reading assignment combines with a science lesson.

Grammar: Khan Academy will be your best friend while homeschooling. The step-by-step lessons are easy to manage and to plug in and out of. I also like to add Mad Libs to learn grammatical terms. They also write in two books. One book they use as a journal and the other they are writing their own story.

Math: Khan Academy.

Government: This is a great time to be studying Government and iCivics is the perfect site. Kids (and you) can learn about how our government was formed and how it is supposed to work.

History: We are watching Liberty’s Kids, which is about three children working for Benjamin Franklin during the Revolutionary War. The kids are fictional, but the events in the story are real.

Spanish: My kids are in a dual-language program and I don’t want them falling behind. Problem is, I am not a Spanish speaker. For those lessons, I am relying on various YouTube channels like Rock ‘N Learn and Spanish for Kids.

Getting energy out:

The kids are bound to get restless and for those moments, I use Go Noodle. There’s a good chance you’ll end up doing the dances as well. I have recently begun doing yoga with my kids after stumbling across Cosmic Kids. It’s a fun way to introduce kids to Yoga, or help you get a few minutes to catch up on your work.

Random homeschooling thoughts

• You’ll be surprised at how much kids can pack in when they are not waiting for the rest of the class.
• This is a weird time, so take time off and have a marathon movie day when the time calls.
• You’re the judge of what your kids can do and what you are capable of.
• Don’t compare your house to others. If the day is turning stressful, drop everything. You will not solve it by forcing everyone to work.

That’s my plan and my advice. I would love to hear how you are teaching in the midst of COVID-19 in the comments below.

A version of homeschooling tips first appeared on One Good Dad. Photo: © Aksinia / Adobe Stock.

Based on my parenting experience, I immediately associate the word “virtual” with meaning “almost.” That there’s been a diminished effort, something watered down or, very simply, done half-assed.

And, to date, my inclination to disregard anything my kids say is virtual has been proven right. Virtually every time.

Everett, my 5-year-old “picked up virtually all the LEGOs.” Then, after tucking him in, my bare footsteps entirely on one of those little, yellow character heads.

Yosef, my oldest, said he “did virtually all of my math.” Never mind his weekly progress reports littered with the word “incomplete.”

My 3-year-old says she ate “virtually all of my green beans.” She says it emphatically as if she has earned the right to move on to dessert. Meanwhile, four lonely beans grow cold next to her plate.

This is why I quickly dismissed the concept of my fifth grader, Lynden, attending advanced math class via a virtual school setting this semester. I was fine with the, pardon the term, old-school, brick-and-mortar structure my kids attend – no need for any virtual school here, thank you very much and good day, sir!

But, like most modern parents, I shelved my initial hesitation to make sure Lynden had access to an opportunity I didn’t. We decided to give the virtual school a try and, to date, my preconceived notions of it being “almost school” have been entirely wrong. Virtually.

Virtual math class has been tough for my son. An otherwise good student who rarely needs to expend too much effort, Lynden cries every day about something related to the online class: misunderstanding concepts, complaints about poor example problems given, or his failed attempts at using alternative methods to solve problems. My wife and I are constantly fielding questions from Lynden – often as he fights back tears – seeking clarity on topics covered in the course materials that he skimmed through too quickly.

In general, I don’t enjoy seeing any of my kids struggle, but, in this case, I kind of like it. Success at his elementary school has come easy for Lynden and I fear he has started figuring out that a 90 percent yields the same grade as a 100 percent. So why put in the extra effort? Having him pound us with questions for his online class has made it clear that in school he is spoon-fed concepts by a teacher ready to swoop in when a student hits a speed bump.

This virtual school experience has shaken his complacency and is forcing him to use (or develop) skills that the traditional, classroom setting is not:

Virtual Lesson #1: Keeping pace on one’s own

Lynden must manage his schedule to meet deadlines without a plan that has been laid out for him. The virtual school provides guidance regarding keeping up and milestones to make sure students remain on pace. In school, though, adults tell the students exactly what today’s work will be, remind them of impending deadlines and often give the test’s content in advance.

As he progresses through higher grades and into the workforce, no one will tell Lynden the sequence of steps needed to be successful. Rather, deadlines will exist and the path to those due dates will be irrelevant.

Virtual Lesson #2: Figure it out for yourself

Lynden came into the virtual school needing a constant lifeline – an on-call expert who would appear at his side during any times of ambiguity or struggle. That mentality doesn’t work in a virtual learning setting. Whether in school, at work or in the arena, no one should get 100 on everything the first time. Missing problems and grinding through the rework to find the solution is a critical life lesson.

Virtual Lesson #3: Work well with others even if they aren’t in the room

The virtual classroom mandates healthy, online collaboration with other students. Watching Lynden learn how to work with others online intrigues me. I’m convinced this is a necessary skill he must develop. Working remotely with colleagues of varying experience levels and with differing viewpoints will be the way of getting things done in the future. Virtual school is teaching Lynden this lesson for the first time in fifth grade.

While I’ve come around on the benefits of young kids learning remotely, I’ll stop short of saying virtual school is a 1-to-1 substitute for the standard elementary school experience. Kids do need the socialization and face-to-face interactions that a school day provides. However, they also need to understand how to work with people in other places, to manage their schedule and to develop the persistence needed to grind through lessons without the crutch of a teacher there to clear up any immediate confusion.

Online learning is here to stay – in my house and, if it isn’t already, in yours soon. That should excite, not scare, us parents. I’m virtually certain of it.

Photo: Tobin Walsh

Our guest blog post today is from Steven Horwich. He was not just a stay-at-home-dad, but a widower and single dad who homeschooled both his children. He is now a homeschool advocate and Founder of Steps Curriculum Home School Program–this is his story.

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I was married for 14 years, and my wife and I had two remarkable handfuls, Katherine (now age 28), and William (now 25).  I was always a “stay at home Dad”, since most of my work is as a writer of theater, movies, and other things.  My wife was also a stay at home, as she taught voice, but our children both went to private schools (where I created arts programs and taught to pay tuition).

That life ended late in 2001, three days before 9/11, when My wife, who it had been discovered had a brain tumor, essentially passed away on the operating table – though we’d been told by the highly respected surgeon that she would not only survive the operation, but was likely to quickly fully recover.  Things didn’t work out that way.

At that time, my children were ages 13 and 9.  I kept them in their private school one more year, but was disheartened by the mediocre academics they were receiving.  (Though the school’s art’s program, especially theater and music, was great…)  On the first day of the next school year, my daughter came home with her first high School history assignment.  It was a single sheet of paper with about 100 words typed on it, and a bad drawing of a pyramid, and it supposedly was the history of ancient Egypt.  Well, being a student of history my entire life, that was the last straw for me.

That night, I started homeschooling my children.  It was something I’d wanted to do for some time, but my wife was opposed, having a background (as do I) as a teacher.  But I was determined to provide them a good education rather than a passable one.  I looked around for workable curriculum, my beef with their ex-private school.  I couldn’t find anything that wasn’t entirely religious at its base, or very intelligent.  So I started writing courses, something I’d dabbled with at their various private schools.  History, science, creative writing (a curriculum I’d already created and tested), and a lot more.  Everything but math, which I stink at, and which was readily available from many publishers.

I shared a few of the courses with experienced teachers I’d worked with, and they fell in love.  Within 4 weeks, they’d pulled their kids from school and were homeschooling with me.  I had around 10 kids a day at my house every weekday, and two parents (in this case, trained teachers) helping to make sure my curriculum was being done thoroughly and well.  I hid in my home office, and authored more curriculum.  This continued for years.  The more people who saw the curriculum (then called Connect the Thoughts, today called Steps), the more people jumped on board.  Within five years, over 20,000 students had used aspects of the curriculum, from all around the world.

But this all started with my own need to make certain my two children, who had just lost their mother, 1) received an education, and 2) knew that their other parent was alive, right there for them, and not going anywhere.  Now I speak as a homeschool advocate, and have authored numerous books on the subject.

Why do we homeschool, those of us who do it?  It’s work, yes.  It’s a little more expensive than public education (not much, though), and a lot less expensive than private schools.  But it isn’t about money.  

We do it for our children.

Steven Horwich
Steps – The Answer to the Problem of Education
http://www.stepsed.com

I sat across from my son’s first-grade teacher as she said with a straight face, “If he is going to be college-ready, these are some of the things he needs to work on.”

My eyes widened with unbelief. I uttered with a turned-up lip, “College ready?”

Stepping back from what she is supposed to say as she read my reaction, she whispered, “I know, right? They actually want us to use those words now … ‘college ready’… for first grade. They’re even using it in kindergarten now.”

My eyes looked up into the corner of my mind as I wondered, “Was Einstein college ready in kindergarten? Or JFK, MLK, Louis Pasteur, Marie Curie, Darwin, Tesla, Stephen Hawking or Edison?”

When did we start caring so much about getting our children college ready at such an early age? When did we stop letting our children experience play and imagination and focus on intellect alone? In a New York Times article titled, “Already Bound for College,” Marcy Guddemi, executive director of the Gesell Institute of Child Development, says in regard to this new educational way of thinking, “We are robbing children of childhood by talking about college and career so early in life.”

I couldn’t agree more.

This idea of being college ready was one of the reasons we decided to homeschool. It wasn’t the only reason, but it was a factor. Imaginations need time to be unleashed and I didn’t feel like my children were getting that opportunity. I would argue that imagination is just as important as education. Without an imagination, I wonder if world altering dreams would have come true. There are times when education and imagination feed off of one another. Without imagination, would Edison have thought to light up the world? Without imagination would Jonas Salk have believed he could create a cure for polio? Without imagination, I am sure Harper Lee, Proust, Tolstoy and Shakespeare would not have put their creations on paper. The list goes on and on. Intellect needs imagination, but if imagination isn’t strengthened and encouraged, what will we have to shoot for?

Great minds need imagination. Great minds need inspiration. And great minds need rest. We are taking that away from our children.

My kids are going to have plenty of time to think about their future. Right now, I want them to believe their future is whatever they want it to be. Whatever they make it to be. The world’s reality will come crashing down on them soon enough without having to view one test score after another. And quite frankly, I am sick and tired of hearing about kids needing to be “college ready.” No more.

Parents, we must not buy into this ridiculous notion that we have to worry about where our kindergartner or first grader will go to college. Because parents, seriously, are we really caring about what our kids want or do we care more about how what they do or what they choose will make us look?

I don’t care where my kids go to college. In fact, maybe my kids won’t even go to college. We are putting too much stock in how much people make and what society views as being successful and pushing our children into accepting these notions. We are not focusing enough on happiness and joy.

A version of College Ready first appeared on One Good Dad

My wife and I were given a wonderful dilemma a few months ago: Keep our daughter in the preschool we truly love or move on to an independent school with a history of excellence and innovation.

I am a proud product of both New York City public and an independent school. My wife attended public school while growing up in a small Pennsylvania town and is just now learning the ins and outs of independent school. But while our experiences couldn’t have been more different, we do have this in common: a commitment to education. This has led to many discussions of the pros and cons of both types of schools. The ultimate question being what route would work best for our daughter.

We chose independent school for our daughter. Here’s why.

Reason 1: The Mission/Developing the Whole Child

We are excited about Camilla’s new school’s mission. Her school will seek to educate her so she can “continue to question, risk, and grow.” She will be expected to “care, serve, and lead” and will be “prepared to challenge, shape, and change the world.” This mission speaks to us on so many levels. We are happy to find a place that will empower Camilla and aid her development from girl to woman as well as affirm what we have already been doing at home. As important as academics are in choosing a school, what was most important to us was the commitment to the overall development of our daughter. This school wants to develop a strong, thoughtful, empathetic young woman and not just an A student or polished athlete and artist. They are developing global citizens who are empowered to make change. That is compelling stuff. In order to aid this development, the school must be committed to diversity in all of its forms. The school’s overall statistics confirm that they recruit and attract families, faculty, and staff of different means, races, cultures, religions, and interests.

Reason 2: The Facilities/A Safe Space

It is hard not to be impressed with some of the facilities at independent schools. I remember Jenelle said, when viewing the facilities at my prep school, “This is nicer than my college.” I think all parents would want state-of-the-art labs or modern athletic facilities or breathtaking spaces to study the arts at their child’s school. However, what we feel quality facilities will do for our daughter is create a safe and fun place to learn, whether it is a warm and open library or the art room with fantastic lighting. She will also have the oldest students in her school right there, sharing the same spaces and hallways. Having these high schoolers model good behavior and work ethic will be a plus. Finally, this is a place where she can take chances, and fail. Answer questions, incorrectly. And learn and grow from these mistakes. You can’t fear failure, and she can become fearless there.

Reason 3: The Teachers

It is comforting to hear that our daughter’s school will not only continue to evolve their program and practice, but will properly prepare their educators to do so. Our daughter’s new school just created an institute that is solely dedicated to faculty professional development and allows the school to stay committed to its mission and truly be innovative in its educational practices. As a long time teacher, I find this it important to be able to hone one’s craft. To have your efforts validated is essential. This helps create an environment chock full of happy educators. What we saw were lots of happy teachers. It makes it easier to entrust our daughter’s education to a school with teachers who are happy to be there.

Reason 4: Athletics

What you are about to hear is just genuine excitement.

The place has a wonderful athletic program. As a now former athlete who was positively affected by my time playing organized team sports, I am not surprisingly happy she will have physical education. I am also really excited about the possibility of Camilla playing on sports teams there. They are even opening a new athletic facility this fall. Oh, and and some teams have preseason training!

Reason 5: We are done.

We are sending our child to a school that ends in 12th grade. So, basically, we are done looking for a school until college. That was difficult to turn down when we were accepted. The search process for independent schools is lengthy and time consuming, and the public or charter school process can be just as stressful. It is a relief to have the weight of the school search process lifted off our shoulders. We don’t take that lightly and feel blessed, especially since we would have also been looking for a new school at around the same time we would have been looking for a new residence. Now, we can just focus on our next place to live.

Independent school is not for everyone, whether for financial, social, or religious concerns. We are not affluent, and we are a bi-racial family, so we appreciate and understand these concerns. I know that my family is quite fortunate to be able to make a choice and attend this new school. But our school is also fortunate to have us because independent schools need families like ours, too. We are excited about what we might be able to contribute to the school and its efforts.

Now, our daughter has begun her school journey, and we feel confident that we chose the right school for her.

I have always been a vocal proponent of public schooling.But my public school frustration has reached its limit.

My wife and I view public school as part of the social contract that binds our country together. We actively participate in our kids’ education and I am currently the PTA president and in the past I have been VP and treasurer.

While I think the teachers and administration at my children’s school are fantastic, at the moment, I feel like throwing my hands up in the air and, in a sense, waving them like I just don’t care.

They are involved and care about the students, but the regulations, Common Core and testing along with the constant scrutiny that they are under tie their hands. Those things trickle down to the children. And I see it in the faces of the students and those that work in the school.

My second grader is in school from 7:50 a.m. until 2:10 p.m. and my fourth grader attends from 7:50 a.m. until 4:10 or 4:45 p.m., depending on the day. When they come home, I oversee their lengthy homework assignments while trying to cook supper and hold back the little brother who just wants to play with the older siblings he hasn’t seen all day. I also need to squeeze in after-school activities, sports, and what’s that one thing that I can’t remember … oh yeah, playtime. I am at the point where I just don’t care about their homework anymore. If they haven’t grasped something during the 40 hours they sit in a classroom each week, then they should try again another day.

With all of the homework and testing, I’m throwing in the towel. I give up.

Everyone is under too much pressure, including our children. The joy of learning has been replaced by the fear of failing – failing a standardized test. The first two-thirds of the year is dictated by the stress of the upcoming tests, and the last one-third is spent dreading the test results. It wasn’t always like this.

This is why more and more parents flee public schools and send their students to private schools or try homeschooling. My wife and I are seriously considering homeschooling our children because we are so frustrated with how teachers in public schools are being forced to educate children. If we do leave public school, it will be with heavy hearts. Because of public school, my kids have learned so much that we couldn’t teach them (about other cultures, religions, how to interact and learn from people unlike themselves) and we have been engaged in our community in a very unique way.

I’m not sure yet what we are doing, but I wanted to vent a little about my public school frustration and see if there are other parents that share my sentiments.

A version of Public School Frustration first appeared on One Good Dad.