When my husband and I were searching for a home, buying in an area with highly regarded schools for our four children was non-negotiable.
We ended up spending more than we planned on a smaller house than we wanted to ensure our kids had access to a good education. Regardless of where my children’s lives ultimately took them, I was confident a good school, defined by traditional measures, was vital to their future success and happiness.
Moving into the school district with the city’s highest-rated schools seemed like a no-brainer, and worth the financial sacrifice and reduced space.
While my family ended up loving our neighborhood, with tree-lined streets and children riding bikes everywhere, we were ultimately disappointed in the schools. We decided to change course, a decision our friends and family still struggle to understand.
We were disappointed with the neighborhood schools
On paper, our neighborhood elementary school looked ideal. Yet I soon learned that its reputation as a great school depended heavily on its laser-like focus on improving standardized test scores. To me, it was obvious that this success came at a cost.
Located in an affluent area, the school focused on academic achievement and maximizing “learning minutes” above all else. I felt that it lacked economic diversity, and kids and parents seemed to be in constant competition to outdo one another. Things got worse when the school instituted policies like “silent lunch,” where kids were prohibited from talking during the time set aside for them to eat. A little rain was often enough to cancel recess, and the school ended most classroom parties. This created a culture in which my kids were ultimately not excited about learning and did not look forward to going to school each day.
Courtesy of Jamie Davis Smith.
We stuck it out, only to discover that when my older child started 6th grade, I discovered that I liked our neighborhood middle school even less. It’s huge, with more than 1,400 students spread across just three grades. I was appalled by the continuation of a culture that seemed more interested in managing students than nurturing them, more focused on checking administrative boxes than ensuring real learning was taking place. When I met with my older son’s teachers, for example, I discovered that some didn’t know who he was; they were giving me information about another student with a similar name, a mix-up that was hard for me to accept.
When it was time for my daughter to start middle school, she wanted to follow in her brother’s footsteps and attend our neighborhood school. It would have been the easy choice: close to home, familiar, and, despite the challenges, still considered the best and most desirable school in the city, one other families fought to get into. Yet, I knew she needed a change.
We decided to apply to other schools, even though they seemed less desirable on paper
Friends in other school districts across the city thought I had lost my mind when I started applying to charter schools that, on paper, seemed less desirable than our neighborhood school. Some schools on my list had much lower test scores or higher poverty rates. When we applied, our top-choice school, where my daughter ultimately wound up, was a Title I school, with around half the student population qualifying for free or reduced lunch.
The striking differences on paper between the charter school we sought out and our neighborhood school kept many parents from applying. Yet, what I see in action almost every day has convinced me I made the right choice.
We’re happy with our choice
Teachers and administrators seem to genuinely care about the students at my daughter’s school. They promptly answer my emails in a way that makes it clear they not only know who my child is but understand her. The community constantly rallies to help those in need, including running grab-and-go markets for families who need help putting food on the table and creating “walking trains” for kids whose parents can’t take their children to school for a variety of reasons.
The school principal is readily available to help students unlock the pouches they must use to store their phones every day and to meet with parents. My daughter and her classmates seem genuinely happy and challenged.
Most importantly, my daughter is thriving. She has risen to the challenge of a difficult International Baccalaureate academic program. She has fantastic friends who live all over the city, from all walks of life and from around the world. That’s its own kind of education, and just as important to our family.
My thoughts have evolved
I wish I had been open-minded from the beginning about what makes a good school and looked beyond the statistics presented on paper. Schools are more than the statistics presented in a few sentences on websites, and I’ve learned not to make assumptions about a school based on how many students qualify for free lunch. Even schools that show high academic achievement might not teach in ways that work for every child, depending on their learning style and personality.
I now know test scores don’t tell the whole story and that a school that is great for one kid might not be the best for another. I would make the same decision again without hesitation for my daughter.
