風蕭蕭_Frank
以文會友
無奈！女兒在加拿大公校苦苦掙紮，母親最終送她去了私校！
近日，一位母親講述了自己送女兒進私校的故事。
溫哥華母親Shauna MacKinnon十分相信加拿大的公共教育，但是當她的女兒無法通過公校獲得學習支持時，她無奈地選擇了私校。
這就是為什麽Shauna從沒想過會把自己的孩子送去私立學校。但是，孩子的教育總會出現意想不到的事情。
閱讀對於Shauna的女兒來說，一直是一個挑戰。當疫情導致學校停課時， 她親身體驗到了女兒在學校麵臨的一切。這也導致女兒不愉快地發現，比她小兩屆的三年級弟弟，都已經比她的閱讀能力更好了。
女兒盯著餐桌上的學校作業時，對Shauna尖叫道：“我做不到！”女兒的眼裏湧出了沮喪的淚水。她回想起過去的經曆，女兒從周一到周四在家練習詞匯，結果周五考試上的閱讀內容，就像她從未見過的單詞一樣。
Shauna意識到，是有什麽東西阻礙了女兒的學習，但她不知道是什麽。
學校老師建議Shauna給女兒花$3000加元做一個私人心理教育評估。雖然有公共資助的免費評估，但是需要多年等待。老師警告Shauna，繼續等下去意味著錯過幹預女兒學習的關鍵窗口。沒有辦法，Shauna去給女兒做了私人評估。評估顯示，她的女兒在聽覺和記憶處理方麵存在困難。
這位心理學家解釋說，對於有語言學習差異（通常被稱為閱讀障礙）的孩子，許多常見的公立學校作業、拚寫測試和嘈雜的教室，會讓他們難以學習。
但是，即使獲得了官方的診斷，指定女兒有學習障礙，也沒有什麽用。Shauna的女兒就讀於溫哥華一所大型小學，學校的支持資源已經很緊缺。像她女兒這種學習障礙的學生，不會觸發額外的資金來支持學生的需求。
接下來，Shauna讓女兒忍受了三年的課外輔導，但是進展緩慢。
最終，隨著女兒對落後於同齡人的焦慮情緒越來越高，事情到了緊要關頭。在去了一所私立學校為閱讀障礙學生舉辦的夏令營後，她的女兒宣布：“我想一直呆在那裏！”
她的女兒喜歡音樂和藝術課，這讓每天的一對一輔導變得可以忍受。女兒也很高興地知道，這裏所有的學生都麵臨著與她相似的挑戰。
Shauna設想了女兒未來的一係列可能。如果繼續不作為，那幺女兒可能會一直經曆各種心理健康問題，例如焦慮、孤獨、失業和虐待。然而，如果有所作為，那幺女兒也可能成為著名的藝術家、發明家和企業家。
考慮到這些可能性，盡管存在財務方麵的障礙，Shauna還是決定送女兒去私立學校了。
一年過去，她的女兒有了很大的進步，可以在學校學習了。她會將關於課堂內容的故事帶回家，閱讀能力有所提高，落後同齡孩子的焦慮已經消失。
Shauna發現，私立學校的家庭熱情好客。和他們一樣，許多家長在看到孩子在公立學校苦苦掙紮後，將私立學校作為最後的選擇。
如今，Shauna已經習慣了這樣的常態：女兒早起，穿著校服去私校；兒子睡懶覺，悠閑地步行去公校。Shauna不想放棄公共教育。
他們仍然堅信公校為社會提供了重要的共同基礎。她希望，也許會有一天，像她女兒那樣的學生，也能在公共教育係統中獲得所需的支持。
I never thought I'd be the parent who sends my kid to private school
As much as I believe in public education, it became clear my daughter’s school couldn’t offer supports for her
Shauna MacKinnon · for CBC First Person ·
Shauna MacKinnon, centre, with her children. Her 11-year-old daughter attends a private school for dyslexic children while her younger son attends a public school. (Submitted by Shauna MacKinnon)
This First Person column is the experience of Shauna MacKinnon who lives in Vancouver. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
Driving from our home in East Vancouver to the west side of the city, I notice how the yards are larger and more manicured. As we approach my daughter's private school, our car — which is still coated in dust from a summer spent camping and bumping down gravel roads — follows a train of shining Teslas and Mercedes. I can't help but feel self-conscious.
"Are you ready for your first day?" I ask.
My nine-year-old daughter replies with a determined, "Yep."
She looks smart in her new uniform. While I wonder how our middle class family will fit in with this posh school community, I am thankful for her uniform. At least that gives her a way to blend in.
The 30-minute car trip across the city is a journey into a lifestyle I never expected to inhabit. We had chosen to raise our kids in a neighbourhood known for its diversity and left-leaning attitudes. The kids could walk to school, and our work commutes could be done by bike. We valued the opportunity public school provided to meet children and families with a wide range of personal experiences that differed from our own.
That's why I never thought I would send one of my kids to private school. But being a parent makes you do things you never expected.
Reading was always a challenge for my daughter. When the pandemic led to school closures, I got a first-hand experience of what she faced in school. It led to the unpleasant discovery that her little brother, two grades younger, was already a better reader than she was in Grade 3. She was furious.
"I can't do this!" she screamed, tears of frustration welling in her eyes, as she stared at the school worksheet on our dining table. I thought back to all the nights that year that my daughter practised vocabulary words at home from Monday to Thursday only to complete Friday's test like she had never seen the words before. I knew something was holding her back from learning but did not know what.
Her teacher encouraged us to spend $3,000 for a private psychoeducational assessment if we could afford it. A publicly funded assessment would be a "years long wait." Her teacher warned us that waiting to understand the root of my daughter's learning difficulties would mean missing a critical window for intervention.
The assessment revealed our daughter had difficulties with auditory and memory processing. The diagnosis made sense of her frustration.
The psychologist explained that for kids with language learning differences — commonly referred to under the umbrella term of dyslexia — much of the typical public school experience of worksheets, spelling tests and noisy classrooms is difficult for them to learn in.
But having an official diagnosis and a designation as a student with a learning disability was not a magic fix. My daughter attended a large elementary school in Vancouver where resource support was already stretched thin. Students with her type of learning disabilities do not trigger additional funding to support student needs.
Our daughter endured three years of after-school tutoring sessions with slow progress.
Eventually, with her building anxiety of knowing she was lagging behind her peers, things came to a head. "I want to go here all the time," my daughter declared after wrapping up a summer camp held by a specialized private school for dyslexic learners. She had enjoyed the music and art classes, which made the daily hour of one-on-one tutoring tolerable. She also liked knowing that all of the students had challenges similar to her own.
At that moment, I could envision an array of possible futures for my daughter. People with unsupported dyslexia are more likely to experience mental health issues such as anxiety, homelessness, unemployment and abuse. And yet, others with dyslexia are among our most celebrated artists, inventors and entrepreneurs.
Considering those possibilities, I could not say no to private school despite the financial and logistical hurdles — or my own discomfort with ditching a public institution for a private offering.
The last year has been transformational. The small class sizes, regular one-on-one tutoring and commitment to teaching using a multi-sensory approach means my daughter is now engaged in learning at school. She comes home with stories about class content. Her reading has improved and she now writes using cursive that her grandparents "ooh" and "aah" over. Her anxiety about not keeping up with other kids her age is gone. I have found that the families at the private school are warm and welcoming. Like us, many of the parents sought out private school as a last resort after their children struggled in the public system.
There are times that I feel guilty knowing that we are investing more in our daughter's education than in our son's. Since he requires less support, we think the public system will serve him well enough.
As we begin our second year of this new arrangement, I am getting used to our new normal: my now 11-year-old daughter gets up early and heads out in uniform to private school; my son sleeps in and leisurely walks to our local public school.
We don't want to give up on the public system. We are still holding onto the belief that public schools provide an important common foundation for building civil society. Maybe someday students like my daughter will get the support they need in public education.
Do you have a similar experience to this First Person column? We want to hear from you. Write to us at firstperson@cbc.ca.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Freelance contributor
Shauna MacKinnon lives in Vancouver with her husband and two children. Aside from shuttling her children to separate schools, she supports collaborative research and extension to address climate change in agriculture.
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