Please Don’t Call It School

The heat wave of July finally broke, and the big talk during this morning’s weather segment was how suddenly chilly it was. The meteorologist was making small talk with the newscaster saying, “My girls even had to wear their jackets to school today.” There was a notable pause until the newscaster finally piped up and questioned, “Isn’t school out for the summer?” The meteorologist chuckled and explained, “Oh yeah, and my girls are only one and three years old. We just call it school.” The meteorologist’s girls go to daycare, and he, like so many these days, calls daycare “school.” I want that to stop. My own sister, also a teacher, referred to daycare as my nephew’s “school” when he was just a toddler. I cringed at it, the lumping of daycare and school into one category. I wrestle with why this feels like a hill I am willing to die on. 

After much mulling over, I think I have pinpointed my issue with referring to daycare facilities as school.  I think it’s about our society’s lost vision for the purpose of schooling.  With Americans financially strapped and most families needing two incomes to afford cell phones, cable television, cars, and all that’s necessary to lead a modern life, it’s more and more clear that schools serve the purpose of providing childcare above all else.  

I see decisions made to accommodate the need to have children supervised in the school setting during the whole of a typical work day even when that may not be in the children’ s best interest.  One example that I experienced as a middle school teacher was the approach to high stakes testing in schools.  At the high school level, students are dismissed after the testing sessions for the SAT or the schools’ final exams.  High school students are old enough to be home alone, so they get the rest of the day to unwind and rest after testing.  However, at the elementary level and middle school level, students spend the morning taking the MSTEP, Michigan’s proficiency testing, and then continue through their school day.  It’s grueling for these students, many of whom are mentally exhausted after trying their best on these high stakes tests. They cannot be sent home after quarterly testing or state testing because it’s expected that the school will supervise the children for the whole of the day.  

Another realization I stumbled upon while wrestling with my feelings about the use of the umbrella term of “school” when referring to daycare services was the time children spend sitting at desks and teachers spend face-to-face teaching in schools.  It’s far too much.  To radically reimagine school with an eye on meeting students’needs and teachers’ effectiveness, the amount of time students spend in school should fit the developmental needs of the child, not the hours of the average American’s workday.  For instance, my middle schoolers should not be starting their school day at 7:25 a.m. Adolescents, in the midst of puberty, have a disrupted sleep pattern that has them awake later in the evening and sleeping later in the morning.  Readiness for learning is not ideal for teens so early in the day.  

Additionally, all students are sitting far too long each day, clocking nearly 6 hours daily at desks or sitting on reading rugs.  Of course, responsive teachers work in brain breaks and extra recess on that beautiful spring day, but that is not guaranteed for every student. Australia has recently set guidelines to limit how long students should be sitting daily.   It is not good for children to be so sedentary during each and every school day.  In a reimagined school day, we might consider a half day of instruction with the rest of the day organized by a social service agency who plans club activities, intramural sports or exploratory activities like cooking or coding.  

Notice I did not shift the responsibility of providing the student extracurricular activities to teachers, and that is key to recreating a model for success in public education, in my opinion.  Teachers should have more time in the internal school day to plan, grade, conduct meetings, communicate with parents, and prepare lessons.  As it is now, teachers have very little time  to do any of this because they are the sole supervisor of 25-30 students for the bulk of each and every school day. 

I’m beginning to puzzle out why I may be irrationally offended by the use of the word “school” to reference daycare services for toddlers.  I think it’s because it feels unnecessarily elevated, and because it may push me to question my role as a teacher for all these years.  The underlying and unspoken purpose of school would seem to be providing daycare for the children in every community, but the advertised mission of public education seems to be the cognitive growth and enhancement of student potential. Some parents may say they want a school experience that helps students build soft skills that help them work with others and fosters friendships. There it is–the ambiguous and all-encompassing mission of “school” may be at the heart of my angst.

If I take a deep breath, I can remember that all of life is school in many ways, teaching us something everyday. It’s not neat or well-defined. It’s messy and doesn’t fit in a box. The rules may not apply. As much as I want a reimagined vision for schooling, I can take solace in the fact that we, as a society, still value learning and strive to provide a meaningful experience for children…ideally while their parents are at work.