Private school students flourish as public school students fall behind
BY LEILA POTTER RALEIGH NEWS & OBSERVER
FEBRUARY 04, 2021 12:00 AM,
Not all children falling behind in this pandemic
As a private school teacher, I have been teaching in-person classes since my school opened its doors in August. It was with brave faces and faint hearts that we reentered our classrooms. With public schools remaining virtual, we private school teachers felt like the guinea pigs. But now, six months in, the extra precautions have become second nature.
While I work every day teaching some of Raleigh’s wealthiest children, I cannot help but be consumed by the reality that my own children, one a kindergartener and one a special needs first-grader at our local public school, are falling further behind with every passing week. When I take my fifth-grade private school students out to play in the crisp January air, I think of the tens of thousands of Wake County students who haven’t even met their classmates. When I have a heart-to-heart with one of my students who is struggling academically or emotionally, I think of all of students who don’t have anyone to help them navigate this challenging time.
On Oct. 26, 2020 Wake County public schools opened their doors to K-3 students who had chosen Plan B, my children among them. For the first time in over seven months, my children were able to be taught in a developmentally appropriate way, see their teachers and peers in person, and feel the love that comes with being a part of a classroom family. During those weeks, their self-esteem soared, anxiety decreased, and I started to see a return of their love for learning. That love for learning? It is no small thing. And it was something that had been all but snuffed out by virtual schooling.
But four weeks is a mere fraction of the time they were supposed to be in school. And now schools are closed again.
Before the pandemic, many said there was an achievement gap in our state. That gap is widening, and we as parents cannot accept that “everyone will be behind.” There are children all over this state whose parents have either the means or the time to make sure that their children’s education hasn’t missed a beat. Meanwhile, many of us are coming to grips with the fact that our children will never fully recover academically or emotionally from these months of lost instruction and interaction.
If this pandemic has taught us anything, it has taught us that teachers are essential workers. We are not babysitters, but we work in loco parentis to nurture the minds of the next generation. It just so happens that while we do our work, our students’ parents also do their work to keep our communities going. We are all dependent upon each other. Ours is a specialized and sacred work that must continue, even in the face of a pandemic.
We also know that schools are the vectors of community support to our youth. There are students who are at risk—of illiteracy, dropping out of school, hunger, abuse, and even suicide—who depend on schools and the teachers who operate within them for stability, sustenance and love. During one of the most daunting and unstable periods in recent history, this lifeline has been cut off.
What’s happening in education in our state is not fair. While students in private schools and pods are progressing and thriving, our children in public schools are getting the bare minimum. How much longer will our children have to endure this injustice? When is enough, enough?
BY LEILA POTTER RALEIGH NEWS & OBSERVER
FEBRUARY 04, 2021 12:00 AM,
Not all children falling behind in this pandemic
As a private school teacher, I have been teaching in-person classes since my school opened its doors in August. It was with brave faces and faint hearts that we reentered our classrooms. With public schools remaining virtual, we private school teachers felt like the guinea pigs. But now, six months in, the extra precautions have become second nature.
While I work every day teaching some of Raleigh’s wealthiest children, I cannot help but be consumed by the reality that my own children, one a kindergartener and one a special needs first-grader at our local public school, are falling further behind with every passing week. When I take my fifth-grade private school students out to play in the crisp January air, I think of the tens of thousands of Wake County students who haven’t even met their classmates. When I have a heart-to-heart with one of my students who is struggling academically or emotionally, I think of all of students who don’t have anyone to help them navigate this challenging time.
On Oct. 26, 2020 Wake County public schools opened their doors to K-3 students who had chosen Plan B, my children among them. For the first time in over seven months, my children were able to be taught in a developmentally appropriate way, see their teachers and peers in person, and feel the love that comes with being a part of a classroom family. During those weeks, their self-esteem soared, anxiety decreased, and I started to see a return of their love for learning. That love for learning? It is no small thing. And it was something that had been all but snuffed out by virtual schooling.
But four weeks is a mere fraction of the time they were supposed to be in school. And now schools are closed again.
Before the pandemic, many said there was an achievement gap in our state. That gap is widening, and we as parents cannot accept that “everyone will be behind.” There are children all over this state whose parents have either the means or the time to make sure that their children’s education hasn’t missed a beat. Meanwhile, many of us are coming to grips with the fact that our children will never fully recover academically or emotionally from these months of lost instruction and interaction.
If this pandemic has taught us anything, it has taught us that teachers are essential workers. We are not babysitters, but we work in loco parentis to nurture the minds of the next generation. It just so happens that while we do our work, our students’ parents also do their work to keep our communities going. We are all dependent upon each other. Ours is a specialized and sacred work that must continue, even in the face of a pandemic.
We also know that schools are the vectors of community support to our youth. There are students who are at risk—of illiteracy, dropping out of school, hunger, abuse, and even suicide—who depend on schools and the teachers who operate within them for stability, sustenance and love. During one of the most daunting and unstable periods in recent history, this lifeline has been cut off.
What’s happening in education in our state is not fair. While students in private schools and pods are progressing and thriving, our children in public schools are getting the bare minimum. How much longer will our children have to endure this injustice? When is enough, enough?
