Problems with Home

Amy once kept me on the phone for 5 hours — the longest phone call of my life — before we were really dating. She argued for guns to my gun control just to keep me on the phone. I wish our pending debate about home schooling had the same motivation.

I like to look at the world in terms of systems. If you can construct the proper structure, the parts contained inside will benefit. If something isn’t working, it is usually because the underlying construct is flawed. The idea of taking a kid — any kid, be she smart or slow, aggressive or passive, funny or depressed — out of a public school and into private or home school environments is the wrong choice, in my opinion. I won’t argue against the ability for a well-meaning parent to make either situation work; there are very quality private schools and very capable home-schooling teachers. The issue I have with it is the fact that those skills, resources and effort aren’t being invested in a place where it could affect more people. It is just as important to me for Carter to encounter negative experiences that we can understand and overcome as it is to create an optimal environment in which he can thrive. If some of the classmates who might provide exposure to that diversity are not present, he is being denied opportunities to learn.

We are battling a number of issues, with Carter now enjoying (and I do mean that) his first year of “real” school. The kindergarten class is right across the street, so together with Archie we make the walk there every morning. Carter’s enitre disposition changes the moment he heads toward school, even if we are having a problem-filled morning just trying to get out of the house. I wonder, if we asked him, whether Carter would like the idea of not going to his school. I wonder at what point he’s really going to be capable of understanding the pros and cons of such a decision.

The downside of the experience is on the adult side. After a couple years of a very parent-friendly, open learning environment at Hoosier Courts, we enter a school system that has signs posted to keep parents from accompanying their kids to their classrooms. Kindergarteners are excepted, but barely. There is a 15-minute window before the morning bell rings, and we were asked to “help him transition” by not sticking around (it was pointed out that I was the only parent who stayed longer than a hug). That time is filled with a morning ritual of coat-putting-away, folder-dropping, sign-in and quiet busywork at designated spots at their overcrowded tables. No time or encouragement to interact, either parents with kids or kids with peers. This is an “academic” school with high scores in various meaningless measures of success, and the principal feels there is no place for parents in the classroom … leaving it up to the teacher to decide but seemingly giving no guidance on how to best incorporate parents into the process. Not long after the start of the school, and in apparent contradiction to stated teaching philosophy, Carter’s teacher implemented a red-card behavioral system — something countless studies say is effective in the short term for most kids but detrimental in the long term to many. Having been a survivor of those kinds of systems, I can vouch for both. I excelled in school because I had a devoted reliance on rules and could adapt to any such methodology. I grew up to be a mostly paralyzed decision-maker, inhibited by the absence of such clear-cut guidance in the real world.

Worst of all, this is a system that is fairly poor at having a dialogue. I’ve spent the semester going through the system, trying to meet with the principal and work to find some space in the public school where parents and kids of our kindergarten class can meet informally for all of 30 minutes before the 15-minutes of protocol kicks in at 8:45a. I’m not expecting much more than the opportunity to connect with other families and share some thoughts and concerns. I want the other kids to know me, and Carter to know the other parents. Lots of silence and persistence got me a No, sorry … delivered as a voice mail while we were away. Once I got back, I also found out that the meeting I had scheduled had been canceled. My rescheduled meeting is Dec 2. I went across the street to a Christian church and in 20 minutes had procured some space for this little community meeting time. Now, I’m in week two of trying to get little fliers distributed to the class through the only reliable means of communicating with the parents: notes in kids folders. The teacher thinks this group is a good idea, the administrators think it is a good idea. But there is no cooperation or communication evident in making it happen. I found out in Carter’s first parent-teacher conference that the flier is likely to have to go through yet another level of micromanaging in the Administration of the school district.

These are all things that make public schools unbearable. I’m not blind to the problems or denying the frustration of these experiences. I’m also not above it all, choosing to do my graduate school, family and personal things ahead of some of the things that might get me integrated with the system. Complicating things further is the short-term future: what happens after May 2006, when I graduate with my masters degree? I’m pursuing both employment and a PhD application at the same time to give us the most choices. If we move, investment in UES seems pointless. If we stay, we’ve probably got only a 3-year window before we move somewhere. There are no guarantees, but those are the probabilities. I have a difficult time getting up the nerve to go next door and talk to my friendly neighbor, let alone take on a myopic school system.

And yet, the idea of taking Carter out and training him ourselves, with our own methods and priorities, is unappealing. (I can use much stronger words, actually.) Amy wants to consider it, stressing that she isn’t advocating for it. That isn’t the way she felt until fairly recently. She’s angry this morning because I am fundamentally opposed to home schooling (and she is “fundamentally opposed to fundamentalism”), but I’m really having a difficult time reframing this any way that could lead to a constructive discussion. I begin my understanding of the world with some core beliefs. This is one of them: You can’t change what you aren’t a part of. Grammar aside, this is a central challenge for me to try and stay connected or gain connection for the first time. I’m just not willing to pass the buck here and take care of my own. That’s what home schooling feels like to me.

Staying connected is my lifelong challenge. The more immediate one is how to have this discussion with Amy. She pointed out this morning that I don’t work this way, as a rule. I try to see all sides and make considered decisions. I’m trying now to reframe this as a design problem, and that helps. I’m also trying to see this as a political discussion. If I’m willing to open a dialogue and discuss the merits of racial profiling or gun advocacy, why is this different? Maybe it’s because the conflicting ideas are not originating from my own home. That is what is most disturbing to me.

So, while I’m not ready to have the debate now, I think I can start moving toward it. I opened up a wiki page to start feeding some research and forumulating some ideas. From a design perspective, that means starting with the perspectives of all of stakeholders and then working through some research to help shape the problem space. That’s the best I can offer at this moment.