Imperfect Attendance

It would seem I just can't resist. At least a couple times a year something school-related happens in our lives, prompting me to spill my opinion on anyone distracted enough to read it. It's happened again.

My view of the education system departs from the cultural norm somewhere near the base of the plant stock; that is, while I believe in both public or private schools as workable models for education (as opposed to strictly home-based education), there is much in the system about which I just can't get excited. Maybe our years as a home-schooling family jaded me. So, following another recent thought-provoking episode, and having held back my reaction for a few weeks, I speak.

Our school district - Clovis Unified, of Fresno County - distributes a newspaper several times a year, proclaiming the achievements of students and the successes of teachers, and applauding the winning efforts of administrators. The most recent issue, signalling the end of the academic year, featured the graduating classes of the several high schools in the district. The many valedictorian speeches were included, as well as notable awards and scholarships granted. The photos of fresh grads reveal promise, excitement, confidence.

Now, I'm all for commemorating high school graduation. It's been 27 years for me, but I still remember what a relief and celebration that event was, and I want to affirm any student who attains that rite of passage.

The reason for my reflection is the page in this newspaper devoted to the 12 students in the district who, in 13 years of schooling, missed not a single day of class. That's 2,340 days of school, with not a sick day, no cut classes, no days painfully spent with the doctor or dentist.

Alex and Stuart boogie-boarding in February.
Not a school day, but still fun.

Of course, that's quite the record. Really, it is, and it doesn't happen by accident. At some point those students and their parents made a choice to pursue the goal of perfect attendance. They decided, "This is our value: perfect attendance." And administrators are, of course, pleased to have received all 28,080 funding days those students represent.

But all I can think is, "Those poor kids. They've missed out. They are too serious!" Is it that I'm jealous, knowing we already disqualified our own children in the kindergarten years? Do I dare mention the times we've pulled our kids to enjoy a family day at an amusement park, or a November vacation we were able to take because it was the low season for tourists? What about the day I had my son work with me so he could learn the first elements of my trade, or the few sick days they probably could have survived on campus, but enjoyed the rest and recovery at home?

No, we don't deliberately look for ways to keep our kids from school. We schedule dental appointments for holidays, weekends or after school. We've rarely seen a doctor. And we don't call it a "sick day" if they are not actually sick.

Yet even for an adolescent, school is only a part of their education, not all of it. And if time away with the family means a missed day of math, I'm going to be okay with that. Perfect attendance is an achievement, but not one I could ever be thrilled about. Life is just too interesting to let even school get in the way.