As a mother, I am no stranger to sacrifice. But right now, because of the way lawmakers rushed the new kindergarten age change law, my family is being forced to consider financial and emotional sacrifices that we shouldn’t have to make.
My 4-year-old child will turn 5 in November. For years, my family has eagerly awaited her journey into kindergarten. But now, because of a new state law, she is no longer automatically eligible to start this fall, as her birthday falls after Sept. 1. Instead, we had to apply to our local elementary school to try to get a waiver to allow her to start this year.
Some proponents of the new kindergarten law have said that the waiver process is meant to be an escape valve for struggling parents, to help make sure this law does not burden families with extra child care costs or prevent children from accessing education. My experience shows that is not the case.
After researching the process for our school district online and speaking with the school, I applied to my local elementary school seeking a waiver to enable my daughter to begin school in the fall. What followed was an assessment process that left us feeling defeated and scrambling to figure out child care.
I vividly remember taking my daughter to the assessment session at our local elementary school. They watched her, along with a few other children, in what felt like a hurried and somewhat chaotic environment. Then, they took her into a classroom with current kindergartners, where she interacted and engaged just like any other child her age would.
When they informed me of the assessment results, it seemed like a contradiction. Despite acknowledging her brightness and commendable social and emotional development, they insisted she wasn’t ready for kindergarten. Because they put my child into a classroom of current kindergartners, who have had the benefit of almost a full year of kindergarten at this point, it felt as if they had expected my child to be ready for kindergarten now, when I was asking for them to consider whether she would be ready in September. I asked for a fair chance to assess whether my daughter would be ready for day one of kindergarten, but it seemed she was being held to the standard set by children who had already been in kindergarten for six months.
[CT kindergarten age change: What to know about the new cutoff]
It was rushed, arbitrary, and utterly confusing. I can only imagine how much harder this would have been for parents of a child with disabilities or an English language learner. And the thing is, there is no standard for how schools assess whether kids are ready for kindergarten across the state. Every school district is different, so there is no fairness or equity in how children are being assessed for waivers statewide.
Instead of offering a clear path forward, my school pushed me towards a waitlist for their preschool program. Now, this means my daughter is without a clear path for her learning next year, and my family has only a few months to figure out what to do.
The waiver process has failed my child and my family. We have no options but to navigate this unjust system. I can explore a private school option that will cost me $30,000 a year. It would take immense sacrifice, but with a long preschool waitlist, being shut out of kindergarten, and few other options, this astronomical expense might be our only way to keep my daughter engaged and supported in her learning. I am afraid of what other families in this situation are going through, because this cost is one that almost none of us can afford.
I hope that the lawmakers allowing this to happen to families like mine understand the real impact of their decision to rush the kindergarten age change law. There is no good reason why this law has to happen this year. Instead, legislators could have delayed this law’s start until next year, to give all of us more time to plan and prepare.
Legislators still can make that change and delay this law to give us time. All I want is for someone to fix this problem and guarantee that our children will have meaningful education opportunities.
Shala Cocchiola lives in Plymouth.