They’re living in the same neighborhood, but their lives during the pandemic couldn’t be more different.
Jason Barry and Dana Kettler have a lot in common.
They both live with their families in Solana Beach, a couple of miles from the North County San Diego coast. They live on the same street with Spanish-style homes and manicured California lawns. They became friends through neighborhood block parties and Christmas caroling.
They both have daughters who attend local schools just blocks from one another.
But when school actually started last year, the two families had very different experiences.
Kettler’s daughter, a junior at Santa Fe Christian High School, actually returned to physical classes late last summer, though with some pandemic-related restrictions to help curb the spread of COVID-19. Santa Fe Christian even had a socially distanced back-to-school line dance.
“It was kind of a cowboy theme,” Kettler said. “Everyone had to stay six feet apart.”
Meanwhile, Barry’s oldest daughter, a seventh grader at nearby Earl Warren Middle School, spent her first day of school at the dining room table, staring at Zoom classes on her computer. The normal first day of school excitement – reconnecting with friends, meeting teachers and new classmates, finding out where everyone sits – was missing. Barry took a picture to remind himself that “this was her first day of school, and it sucked.”
Across California, and indeed across the country, private schools like Santa Fe Christian had a major incentive to reopen: many parents likely would have a hard time justifying paying thousands of dollars in tuition for an inferior online product.
Meanwhile, the vast majority of California’s 6 million public-school students haven’t set foot in a classroom in almost a year, despite increasing evidence that schools can be reopened safely and little reason to believe that schools have contributed meaningfully to spreading the virus. Governor Gavin Newsom, whose four children attend an in-person private school, is still negotiating with lawmakers and union leaders over a public-school reopening plan.
The coronavirus pandemic has highlighted economic disparities in education, not just between the very rich and the very poor, but across various middle-class and working-class social stratums. Well-off parents like Newsom, who can afford expensive private school tuition, have been able to shield their kids from the most damaging mental and social impacts of the pandemic. But even for many solidly middle-class families, private schools and tutors are out of reach.
“You feel kind of guilty sometimes because you are in a position to be able to afford to give that to your kid,” said Kettler, whose oldest daughter graduated from Santa Fe Christian last year.
According to a school reopening dashboard, most private-school students in the San Diego area, or more than 18,000 kids, have returned to in-person learning, compared with fewer than 7,000 who are in a hybrid model and about 5,000 who are still in distance learning.
The reverse is true among public-school students in the area. Slightly more than 340,000 kids are still in distance learning, nearly three times the approximately 120,000 who are attending school in-person (about 30,000) or in a hybrid model (about 93,000).
Ginny Merrifield, executive director of the Parent Association of North County San Diego, said it’s not surprising that private schools were more nimble in adapting to changing circumstances than the public school system. “You can’t really expect very large urban school districts to do that. It’s just too hard. They’re aircraft carriers. They don’t move like that,” said Merrifield, whose group is fighting to reopen the community’s public schools.
Kettler has always had her daughters in private school. She appreciates the spiritual aspect of Santa Fe Christian High School, and she likes being together with likeminded families. In the past, she’s wondered if private school education was worth the cost – she said she’s paying about $21,000 this year for her younger daughter to attend Santa Fe Christian – but during the pandemic she’s definitely seen the value.
Over the summer, Santa Fe Christian invested in technology to improve the school’s online offerings, and trained the teachers to better teach remotely, Kettler said. When school resumed, students were given the option to return to class or continue online. Students who returned to campus were split into two groups, which alternate days in the physical classroom. Students whose group isn’t in class on a particular day aren’t forced to sit at home. They’re invited to set up their laptops around campus – in the gym or library, or outside – or join the class if there’s room, Kettler said.
The school has had some coronavirus cases, forcing some students and teachers to quarantine at home. But Kettler said she’s glad her daughter has been in school.
“For sure I’m grateful. I feel like (the pandemic) hasn’t actually affected her as much,” Kettler said of her daughter. “We have found ways to keep life pretty normal. Even though that’s not really what’s happening around us.”
Barry, who used to work in law enforcement and grew up in a blue-collar East Coast neighborhood, said his family has always prided itself in utilizing public schools. There was never a doubt his kids would attend public school, he said. In fact, one of the reasons he and his family moved to their neighborhood was the good schools.
Barry said when his daughters’ schools shuttered last spring, he saw the mental and emotional impact it took on his kids, now in the fifth and seventh grades. They lingered in bed. His oldest daughter regressed socially, struggling to reconnect with friends over the summer.
“And these are kids that she’s known since first grade, second grade,” he said. “She doesn’t know how to talk to her friends. Now I’m like, ‘Oh my God.’”
Over the summer, while Santa Fe Christian was creating its reopening plan, Barry learned that San Dieguito Union High School District leaders intended to continue with remote learning. He worried that without an in-person school his oldest daughter wouldn’t develop like she should, growing from an elementary-school kid to a middle schooler.
So Barry decided that if his daughter couldn’t go to school, he’d bring the school to her.
He converted his home into co-working space for his daughters and some of their friends, setting up folding chairs around a large dining room table he covered with a fitted tablecloth to protect from spills. He talked to parents he knew, and invited about a half dozen of his daughter’s friends to do their schoolwork at his home. He even invited a half-dozen or so boys to recreate that sometimes awkward school-like social dynamic.
“I found out very quickly, taking yourself back to the middle-school dance, the boys and the girls are at opposite ends of the house at all times,” Barry said. “They’re very aware of each other.”
The kids come over mid-morning, work independently, and stay until mid-afternoon. Barry turns on fans and opens the windows to keep air circulating. The kids can spread out and work outside if they want. He even hosts twice-weekly physical education classes, playing dodgeball games in the park or basketball in the driveway.
At its peak, Barry had 15 or 16 kids at his house most days, he said, including his fifth grader and some of her friends who were in school part-time.
“I’m certain we’ve saved these kids from a depression,” Barry said. “I don’t want to say that they’re good. They’re not good. But we saved them from deteriorating.”
Before this year Barry never considered sending his kids to a private school, though his family could afford it, he said. He said he’d rather save that money to help his daughters pay for college. But conditions might force his hand.
“It’s coming to a point where it’s on the table,” Barry said. “If things don’t change, that’s going to have to be a consideration.”