MY daughter is not yet 3, and can’t possibly understand the political statement she’s making.
On Monday, her father and I will give her a kiss, wipe away tears – our tears, she’ll be fine – and deposit her in a private school.
One year of part-time preschool, where she’ll learn to stack blocks, use finger paint and, God willing, the potty, costs one-and-a-half times what I paid for four years of tuition at a state university.
Next year, it gets even more expensive.
This means that if her father and I remain employed, of reasonably sound mind and living in New York, the only time my daughter is likely to see the inside of a public school is when she votes.
What choice do we have?
Opting out of public school is not an easy decision. But it’s the right one. Just as it is right for scores of officials like Schools Chancellor Harold Levy, who yammer about the value of public education while shipping their own precious progeny to elite private institutions.
Our choice was made last year, when Brooklyn’s District 15 made the boneheaded decision to eliminate the gifted program from our local school – to appease jealous parents whose kids can’t cut it.
Even Sen. Charles Schumer, who proudly sends his two daughters to public schools, finagled their way into gifted classes.
“I believe in the public schools,” Schumer told me, adding, “I worked hard to find a public school that meets their needs.”
Would my daughter get the same break?
The demand for private school has gone insane. One in our area reported 1,200 applications last year – for four seats!
The other night, my husband and I joined dozens of shellshocked parents at orientation. For a year, we’d agonized over applications and interviews. When the letter of acceptance arrived in March, I was so nervous, I ripped it.
“This is ridiculous,” whispered a mom who, like me, attended public schools. “But what can we do?”
Sure, we feel guilty about draining the system of our kids, and we worry about spoiling them. But taking a chance on a dumbed-down district means gambling with my child’s future. That is not an option.
So come Monday, my daughter will play in a safe, undercrowded and expensive classroom. Who needs summer vacations, after all?
If only every child had the same chance.