Why We Choose Madison Public Schools

We can model what it looks like to care for public institutions in a democracy.

As I get ready to send my youngest child off to kindergarten, I find myself looking around at similar-aged kids around the neighborhood and once again wondering, “Will we see you at our school?” When I was growing up in Madison, nearly everyone I knew went to our assigned public school. That’s no longer a given. Now I see many families, especially those with race and class privilege, making choices for something other than our neighborhood school: private schools, independent charters, or a transfer within or outside the district. And many of them are making these decisions right from the start. 

These choices are perhaps understandable if you consider the way marketplace thinking has permeated our culture in the past decades. We are all vulnerable to capitalistic, “market”-based perspectives on schooling and we can operate from this set of assumptions both consciously and unconsciously. With our society continuing to become more unequal (and anxiety about the future becoming the overwhelming emotion), we see many parents putting pressure on themselves to do whatever they can to ensure “competitive advantages” for their kids. 

Rather than rehash the reasons why vouchers and charter schools are choices that can harm the public school system and the kids you leave behind (if you like, see here), some of the parents at Families for Justice thought we’d share our reasons for joining our neighborhood public schools. In other words, here’s why we choose public schools. And, get ready, because the list is long!

1. Local public schools foster connection with families right where you live. Before my kids started at our public school, there were families I saw at the park or walking around the neighborhood, but I didn’t know who they were and didn’t feel confident in approaching them. We now know those families because of our school and the often built-in and ongoing opportunities to connect at the bus stop, school pick-up, family nights, and otherwise. It’s our “town square.” With my oldest in middle school and the wider geography that school pulls from, we’ve had the chance to expand on these relationships, exploring the areas where their new friends live and building a broader place-based identity together. One FFJ parent says she’s still friends with a mom who stood outside their kids’ kindergarten class at pick-up more than 10 years ago. An FFJ young person is working a summer job at the local hardware store and frequently sees people he knows because of his public school. In an era of isolation and alienation, public schools continue to provide a way for us to be a part of our communities. 

2. Local schools offer opportunities to connect meaningfully with others too, including older neighbors whose kids traveled through the schools and the teachers and staff who’ve committed to our neighborhood too. Older neighbors share memories from their kids’ days at the schools, ask if Teacher So-and-So is still there, and invite my kids to tell them about their school day. We’ve found that many of our teachers and school staff love our neighborhood and they incorporate local knowledge into class discussions, field trips, and guest speakers. These multi-generational connections instill a greater feeling of identity, pride, and belonging for kids and families. 

3. Neighborhood schools can lay the groundwork for collective action. With these connections to other families, neighbors, teachers, and school staff, you have more opportunity to come together for the benefit of all your kids. Whether that’s through your Parent Teacher Association or just a loose group of parents who want to do something positive together. Some of our collective efforts have been unrelated to our schools, but the relationships have begun there. It’s a powerful reminder that our collective well-being and acts of solidarity all start in these pockets of community with one another.   

4. Your neighborhood public school is likely to be more diverse racially, culturally, economically, linguistically, by ability, and by LGBTQIA identities than anywhere else. Even if you’re making the choice for a language immersion school or a school that promises diversity, the barriers to access (application processes, lack of transportation, etc.) often undermine that promise. In particular, kids with varying abilities and disabilities are more likely to be attending your neighborhood public school and to be integrated into the classroom. My older children can talk explicitly about how their schools have enabled them to get to know kids from other countries, who move or learn differently than they do, have families configured differently than ours, and how they value the differences of others and their own. This kind of understanding is not only critical for building empathy but also for the flourishing of a multi-racial democracy. In other words, these are the skills our children are going to need. One FFJ member shared, “As a kid of the 90’s, ‘special education’ meant separating neurodivergent and kids with disabilities from the other kids. I am so impressed at the ways in which our school works to integrate all children into the classroom. Thirty years later I am envious of the ways my young children (5 and 9) understand and can navigate social and learning situations with kids of all abilities.”

5. If your kid has varying abilities and needs for special education, your best access to services may be at your neighborhood public school. Because public schools accept and educate all kids, schools are staffed with special education teachers and assistants, psychologists, social workers, physical therapists, occupational therapists, speech and language therapists, and other specialists. They’re there and ready to identify issues, prepare and revise IEPs, and provide services in the classroom and outside. While charter schools share this legal requirement, they often don’t have the staffing to deliver these same levels of support, and private schools have no legal obligation to support all children.  

6. You can avoid sending the wrong kinds of messages to your kids. For kids who have race and class privilege, like mine, I feel that the exceptional choice (and all the work that went into making and then enacting that choice) can convey to kids that they’re “too special” or “too different” or “too important” for our local school to be right for them. We know that this kind of messaging is damaging to children’s well-being and that white kids in particular often absorb racist messages from these kinds of decisions. Public schools provide our kids the opportunity to learn from the joys and the challenges of a collective project. 

7. Being engaged in imperfect processes and working with others to improve them is a good thing, for both adults and kids. Our neighborhood public schools are imperfect and messy. We acknowledge that issues of equity and justice persist in schools and at times they are unready to nurture our children as we believe they need to be nurtured. By continuing to commit to public schools, even when it challenges us, we are counteracting the messages that tell us we need to hoard resources for our children and carefully curate their lives to ensure future opportunity. We can engage in conversations with our kids about what they notice about what works and what doesn’t and figure out how to make improvements together. We can model what it looks like to care for public institutions in a democracy.

8. And don’t forget, it’s easier and more convenient. Getting three kids off to school each morning and back would be a stressful and time-consuming affair if we didn’t have a school bus coming for one and the capacity to walk the others (or send them along with other kids in the neighborhood). And we saved ourselves lots of time, energy, and unnecessary anxiety at the outset of our school journey by assuming our kids would go to neighborhood public schools. One FFJ youth, a busy middle school-er, also named convenience as his top reason for attending a neighborhood school, followed by “feeling more connected” with others. As parents with plenty on our plates as well, we agree.

   
   

Families for Justice is a network of people working to dismantle white supremacy in Dane County and beyond through multi-generational community organizing and direct action. Learn more here.