I knew we might be in over our heads when we chose a private school for our child. The endless meetings, events, galas, and auctions that came with hefty “donation” requests and formal attire were overwhelming. My work inbox was constantly filled with calendar invites for committees I hadn’t even joined, but it seemed mandatory for new members to volunteer a set number of hours each school year. It didn’t matter that these obligations often coincided with my work hours, forcing me to use PTO or catch up late into the night. This was just part of the deal, along with the exorbitant tuition, to become a member of this school community.
Yes, we made this choice. I never envisioned having a child in private school, but our oldest needed the specialized programs offered, and we were ready to pay for it. We had explored the IEP options at our local public school and even applied for a transfer to another one, hoping for a better fit, but our son was struggling. His academic challenges were taking a toll on his mental and emotional well-being. We were determined to find the right support for him.
While chatting with a friend over coffee, she introduced me to a school that catered to children with ODD, dyslexia, and similar needs. They didn’t provide accommodations the same way public schools did, but they offered smaller class sizes, personalized tutoring, and tailored curriculums. It sounded like a dream come true.
In many ways, it was—aside from the costs and the challenge of splitting our kids between two schools. My salary essentially went toward tuition and fees. Nonetheless, we decided to give it a shot for a year, hopeful it would provide our son the tools and support he needed to thrive. We planned to take it step by step.
The demands on our time were far greater than we anticipated. Many parents seemed to spend all their time at the school, helping teachers and staff. It became evident that the more time you invested at the school, the more social capital you earned. I tried to keep pace, but balancing my job, other school-aged children, and the needs of my oldest left little room for hanging out in the hallways.
Surprisingly, my oldest began to flourish in many ways. He thrived in the 1:1 bi-weekly tutoring sessions, which built on each other, allowing us to connect with the tutor to coordinate what to work on at home. It was a rigorous program, but my son didn’t seem overwhelmed; he was doing great.
His teacher described him as a “delight” to have in class, and it appeared he was making friends and enjoying recess with his classmates. My heart swelled with pride.
However, minor issues began to surface. He struggled to connect with one student who occasionally teased him during recess or engaged in annoying antics like hiding his pencil case. The teacher informed me about these incidents, assuring me they could be resolved, and I dismissed it as typical childhood behavior.
As time passed, the situation worsened. My son started crying before school. The teacher reached out for help from the Head of School and mentioned they would involve the counselor and work with both boys individually. My son was not seen as the aggressor; rather, he was perceived as passive, and they intended to equip him with self-advocacy tools. I felt reassured by this plan.
But the other child’s parents were not pleased. Their son, let’s call him Jake, had been with the school since pre-K, and his family was well-off. They felt their child was being treated unfairly and requested a meeting with the teacher, my husband, and me. The Head of School facilitated this meeting and also attended.
During the meeting, the teacher provided a detailed timeline of events and outlined the steps taken so far. Jake’s father grew visibly agitated, slamming his chair back and exclaiming, “I can’t believe this!” His mother, while remaining seated, insisted she had never witnessed such behavior from her son. This was puzzling since none of us had been angry; we merely wanted to address the bullying and move forward.
After the meeting, the Head of School seemed distant and promised to follow up with me soon. The teacher reassured me everything was fine and apologized for the awkwardness.
The following week, I received an unexpected call from the Head of School. She informed me that my son’s learning needs weren’t being met at the school and suggested he would be better suited elsewhere. Before I could voice my concerns, she insisted this decision had nothing to do with the previous week’s meeting. But I knew better. My son had been thriving, and he faced no behavioral issues.
I was crushed and infuriated. I questioned whether the other parents’ threats to withdraw their children influenced her decision and noted that Jake’s mother was always available for school activities. The Head of School denied this, but I was skeptical.
My son was allowed to finish the week, but I felt uneasy about sending him back. I let him go the next day to say goodbye to friends and his teacher. I was furious then, and I remain angry at the injustice of it all. Even his teacher expressed her sadness when he left and offered to assist him in transitioning to a new school. She apologized profusely and has since left that institution but remains an acquaintance of ours.
My son’s self-esteem and progress suffered a significant setback. While he has bounced back, he still grapples with feelings of sadness and confusion over what transpired. I’ve written letters, made phone calls, and communicated with board members, expressing our concerns about their actions and the harm inflicted on our child. Many suggested legal action, but we lacked the time and resources for that, plus the outcome wouldn’t change our situation.
Both my husband and I feel that if we had more financial resources or free time, we wouldn’t have faced this predicament. Our child was punished because we couldn’t afford to send our other kids to that school or contribute more time and money on top of his tuition. It is heart-wrenching to witness a person in authority choose a wealthy, indignant parent over the needs of a thriving student. This experience has left a bitter impression on me, and while I understand that “not all private schools” operate this way, it has given me a renewed respect for public school teachers and staff. The public school system isn’t perfect, nor are the individuals within it, but I have a newfound appreciation for their dedication.
For more insights on similar experiences, check out this other blog post. And if you’re exploring options, this resource offers excellent information on home insemination. Additionally, Healthline provides valuable resources on pregnancy and related topics.
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Summary:
This anonymous mom shares her family’s experience with a private school that initially seemed like the perfect fit for their son, who required specialized support. While the child thrived academically and socially, issues with another student escalated. After a meeting with the other child’s parents, the school’s Head decided to advise the family to withdraw their son, impacting his self-esteem and emotional well-being. The mom reflects on the inequities of private schooling and gains a newfound respect for public education.
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