Occasional snow day should stay
- Brett Hiner: A Work in Progress
- May 20, 2021
- 1182
Even watching it as a teenager, there is a line toward the end of “The Breakfast Club” that has always bothered me. It is said by the character Allison Clark, played by Ally Sheedy, as the kids are sitting around in the back of the library, commiserating over their respective life troubles.
Out of fear of potentially turning into their parents, Allison says to the group, “It’s inevitable … when you grow up, your heart dies.”
One could argue that in that one line, the point of the movie is made — that the entire reason those five students find themselves in that Saturday detention is for their actions all spurred on by their miserable home lives. But the generalization of hearts dying, metaphorically, when you age, is a sad one, and I feel bad for any teenager who believes it.
But a recent USA Today story coming across a newsfeed supports Allison’s sad notion, at least as it relates to some decision-makers in New York City.
The city’s department of education recently made an announcement in the release of its 2021-22 school year calendar that snow days would be no more. It is believed in its continued changing of the educational landscape, COVID-19 has made the process of producing online learning more functional and can easily be supplemented in for a potential day or two off during the school year.
Naturally, I can already hear the cynics: “You’re a teacher. Of course you’re a proponent of snow days,” and I certainly understand the logic. But believe it or not, snow days are not really about the teacher (most typically spend the time grading or planning, albeit in their pajamas), but the youthful exuberance one feels when they receive the news.
Surely someone in that group of NYC educational decision-makers must remember the joy they felt when hearing those magical “snow day” words. Turning off the alarm, pulling the blankets up a little tighter and rolling back over for a few more hours of slumbered bliss is a coming-of-age experience felt amongst those living in environments where they are lucky enough to experience snow and one that is unique to child and young adulthood.
Students living in cities and school districts with inclement weather do not get the pleasure of eating lunch outside year round, basking in the 70 F southern sun in January. They get the pleasure of layering up like Randy in “A Christmas Story,” shoveling driveways and hoping the defrost in the car will do its job in time to get everyone where they need to be, safely and on time. An occasional snow day should be a fringe benefit.
For me, however, the issue goes beyond taking away sledding or tubing, and building snowmen, and afternoons filled with hot chocolate and late breakfasts, or, with students these days, streaming a season’s worth of their favorite show in one day.
In an educational landscape that seemingly wants to push children through school, faster and faster every year (i.e. get them the credits and get them out), I fear we risk taking some childhood rites of passage and memories along with it. Heaven forbid we allow them to stretch their imaginations beyond a curriculum being delivered on a screen. And for what? A few days off for students in the doldrums of winter?
I think Allison Clark was really trying to say that with the stress and responsibilities of adulthood, we tend to force our adult inconveniences on children without letting them be children.
But, thankfully, not all hope is lost. On the same day I read about the nation’s largest school district taking away snow days, I also read/saw a tweet by New Jersey Congressman Andy Kim.
On May the Fourth, a date now heralded amongst those passionate about “Star Wars,” he tweeted a picture of himself and his two sons holding up an unopened Lego Millennium Falcon box, with its 7,965 pieces. As adorable as the picture is, the best part is his actual tweet:
“My wife wasn’t thrilled when I put this Lego Millennium Falcon on our wedding registry. To not seem completely self-indulgent, I told her I’d wait until we had kids to build it. Today, after 10 patient years, the adventure begins.”
It was retweeted by Luke Skywalker himself, Mark Hamill.
I do not know what should be celebrated more: the fact he was able to hold onto this for 10 years or to praise the person who saw that on their registry and actually purchased it for them (and when I say “them,” I really mean “him”).
Kim goes on to tweet the six-day construction progress, filled with pictures of some early morning builds and some temper-tantrums amongst the kids, but ultimately, a successful build with his two sons, making youthful memories not tied to school work and with a dad still living the young at heart mantra.
The NYC Department of Education needs a refresher on that notion. Rather than “The Breakfast Club,” I’d suggest reviewing the Gene Wilder classic, “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.” It is a strong defense for innocence and imagination and dreaming. Of the many memorable quotes Willy either sings or says, I think the one that best relates is “a little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.”