The Education of a Public School Parent

The following year, 2005, Minneapolis schools suffered tremendous budget cuts. Six Lyndale teachers were laid off or transferred to other schools as a lack of funding and the seniority-driven staffing system wreaked havoc citywide. Lyndale ends at fifth grade, so Grace moved on to middle school. But because it’s so close to our house and Grace helps out with Lyndale’s after-school sports program, we still cross paths with students and staff members who were a part of our lives that year.

Best we can tell, despite losing some of their best, most committed teachers, Ossie James and her staff are continuing to do a valiant job and Lyndale remains a beacon of hope and achievement in the heart of the city.

Despite the great aviation program that brought our son Pete to Washburn High, he had a terrible time there. The problems were mostly social. Unfortunately, as a new kid with no junior high friends from his small St. Paul school joining him, he struggled to feel welcome. Things got worse when he was bullied by football players in his phys ed and health class.

We thought the school responded poorly to our concerns. Later, when I sent an e-mail to Washburn’s principal, I never got a reply. Pete stuck it out through the end of his freshman year because he loved the aviation classes. The program’s director and lead teacher, Peter Denny, has a passion for both kids and aviation that’s infectious. He and Pete had a wonderful relationship, and he recommended Pete for an aviation-careers summer camp sponsored by the Federal Aviation Administration. But for Pete, one aviation class per semester wasn’t enough. The social situation didn’t improve, and he was miserable, so he transferred to the Avalon charter school in St. Paul.           

As for our older kids, who joined our household as adolescents with troubled backgrounds—they all made it through the city’s high schools. One went on to college, one attended a technical institute and is now a journeyman plumber, and one started a family of her own at twenty-one and is now, at thirty, planning to attend college. Our summer school girl learned her multiplication tables at our kitchen table and is doing well in seventh grade at Andersen Open.

Because as a family we operate in many circles (community groups, neighborhood organizations, basketball leagues, and so forth), we share the trials and triumphs of many kids, not just our own. I watched our neighbor—a musically talented elementary school boy—stand with his mom, dad, and dog on countless cold, dark mornings, instrument case in his hand, waiting for the early bus to take him to the Fine Arts Interdisciplinary Resource in Crystal, an interdistrict magnet that draws students from eleven school districts. I listened to the tales of another neighborhood family whose sons have been successful—albeit with vastly different experiences and issues—in their respective schools. Dale, the older boy, is a gifted student and competitive swimmer who sailed through Southwest High’s International Baccalaureate program and went on to the University of Chicago. His brother, Justin, has learning disabilities and other mental health issues, but, with the diligent involvement of his parents, will graduate this spring from Roosevelt High and head to technical college. We know many talented kids who are thriving at South High, no doubt destined to do great things.

At the same time, we marvel at the plethora of class options offered at the big high schools attended by the children of suburban friends. One friend recalls how a teacher, on curriculum night at Hopkins High, held up a directory of the school’s courses and told the assembled parents how lucky their children were. The teacher said Hopkins students have more elective courses available to them than she had had in college.

Sure, there are frightening stories as well—about brushes with violence, widely available drugs, overcrowded classrooms, and indifferent teachers. But, to varying degrees, you find those problems everywhere—in the toniest suburbs as well as the grittiest inner-city neighborhoods, and even in elite private schools—just as you find compassionate, engaging teachers, good kids, and good families to share your children’s journey through their school years.

Our family’s public school experience has been and remains a blessed mix of the stable and unstable, optimistic and beleaguered, rich and poor, bright and not-so bright. We’re convinced, moreover, that our experience has mirrored what parents and children in all systems face. And we believe that if you stay engaged with what’s happening to your children and their schools, you can help ensure a foundation that will serve them well in a world that’s also a blessed mix.

Terre Thomas is a writer and small-business owner.