The Making of an Outraged Mom

As I continued to mull over the full-day plan, rumors were buzzing everywhere that it was essentially a done deal. (Peter Fischelis, the chair of the Concord school committee, all but said as much: "Given the direction of the state, we feel that it's going to be coming anyway whether we like it or not. We're trying to be prepared and proactive.") I heard this gossip all around town, even on the sledding hill behind the high school. The debate among the various factions was getting louder, and more personal. Preschool pickup and the children's section at the library started to get pretty tense, as did innocent visits to Concord Teacakes—let's just say that awkward silences don't go well with frosted dinosaur cookies.

Interestingly, though, the "for" and "against" groups didn't always fall the way you might expect. Brian Maloney and Maia Heymann, for instance, have one son in kindergarten and another who'll be there next year. A wicker basket on their kitchen table holds flash cards with simple words written on them. Artwork covers the fridge, and their kindergartner has written "A+" in black crayon on several drawings. Both Maloney and Heymann work, so you'd think they would appreciate a longer kindergarten day. You'd be wrong. "I think it's ridiculous," Maloney said. "At five years old, we shouldn't be worrying about them being proficient in anything." The couple have a babysitter, rather than send their boys to afternoon programs, so they can have more time at home.

Jennifer Newbold is another parent who doesn't fit expectations. She and her husband, Stephen, who have boys ages four and two, moved to Concord a few years ago to escape the expensive New York private schools and return to Stephen's hometown. Newbold, who doesn't work, considered putting her name on the petition but eventually decided that full-day kindergarten would work for her son and opted not to sign. "They're not changing the curriculum," she explained. "They're spreading out the day to make it easier to assimilate the curriculum."

By the time of the next school committee meeting, I was on the fence. That was an uncomfortable place to be, I thought to myself as I oofed into my seat, but not as uncomfortable as that of Peter Fischelis, who sighed when he announced the agenda item: "Our favorite subject—full-day kindergarten."
One naysayer eventually rose to present yet another written demand, signed by seven families vowing to pull their children out at noon each day if the plan were enacted. Still, I was surprised by how few dissenters were there. One of the founders of the CPKO was notably absent. She'd say later that she had moved on, that this whole thing had brought out the worst side of parenting. She had a point.

So like I said, I'm not the same person I was before all this. First, I've become a community activist. That was me at a recent school committee meeting, unprepared and uncoiffed but rising to the mike regardless. I don't remember my exact words because I was too nervous. Something about how having both full- and half-day kindergarten would be bad because it would separate children into different castes: those whose parents work and those whose parents don't.

I had decided at last that I was not going to sign the petition. Later I would follow up my magnificent school committee performance with a letter to the editor in the Concord Journal, which I'm sure made a huge difference. Soon I'll be chaining myself to a redwood.

More important, though, I've learned that as much as this debate has centered on kindergarten, it's also been about the perception of control. Parents in town have griped that they weren't consulted as they were when school officials pushed for full-day kindergarten back in 2000. These refuseniks contend that the administration snubbed them because it learned back then that informed parents can derail an initiative they don't like. But here's the thing: The plan fell apart last time not because of parental opposition but because kindergarten teachers opposed it since they wouldn't receive full retirement benefits—and also because full-day was going to be tuition-based and optional. With those issues since resolved, now it was looking as if full-day kindergarten was going to be a reality. Parents didn't hold the reins last time, and we still don't. And you know what? Full-day kindergarten is just the first in a long line of things that we won't be able to control. Our children will get older and make their own friends and, if you believe the Globe, they might even have a college roommate of the opposite sex. There's not a whole lot we can do about it.