Editor's Note: (Scott Jennings, a CNN contributor, is a former special assistant to President George W. Bush and a former campaign adviser to Sen. Mitch McConnell. He is a partner at RunSwitch Public Relations in Louisville, Kentucky. Follow him on Twitter @ScottJenningsKY. The opinions expressed in this commentary are his own. View more opinion articles on CNN.)
(CNN) With the 2019 school year ending for most kids, parents like me have already turned their thoughts to the fall and to whether kids will be sent back to school. My wife and I have been homeschooling our four little ones since the pandemic closed their schools two months ago. They have August circled on their school calendars.
Do I want them to go back?
I am in the "yes" camp ... but I would be lying if I said I wasn't having doubts.
I am as anxious as anyone to get my kids back to school because I am worried about educational setbacks, both from what they've already missed and what they'll miss if they don't go back in the fall. My wife and I are doing our level best to keep up with their studies, but is it as good as what they'd get at school? I'd like to think so, but I am not sure (and allow me to praise the teachers instructing us and our children from a distance as best they can). But we are also worried: will they be safe?
Parents juggling full-time jobs with new homeschooling responsibilities are anxious, stressed and exhausted. A good friend of mine often says that "when you are doing everything, you aren't likely doing any of it well." And she said that before being thrust into juggling homeschooling and her job. Most parents I know are asking the same question every night: Am I f-----g this up for my kid?
On the other hand, our homeschooling efforts and supervised online learning sessions have been among the most fulfilling experiences of my adult life. Yes, there are frustrating moments (for the kids, too, who cannot possibly pay attention to this many Zooms), but the time I'm spending with them, picking up on their little learning habits and points of curiosity, is irreplaceable and simply wouldn't be happening if I hadn't been grounded from my normal travel and work schedule.
None of us will forget this precious time, and hopefully it will result in all parents taking far more interest in the day-to-day learning habits of our kids.
But as much as I want my kids to return to the classroom, I do worry about the trauma of the "what ifs." What if one child at school becomes extremely ill from Covid-19 or, God forbid, dies? What will that do to our kids, and what will it do to parents? Will they rush to pull their kids out immediately?
What if a teacher contracts Covid-19 and gets very sick ... or dies? Will the kids become too frightened of their environment to learn? And are we putting our teachers and school staff in harm's way? Undoubtedly, we are if they are older or have pre-existing conditions.
Most of the parents I know readily admit their dual impulses. We are plagued with doubt, and balancing competing interests -- health on the one hand, and the academic fulfillment and necessary socialization that schools provide our children. My kids are desperate for peer interaction. I could barely get them on their bicycles before all of this; now, they've formed a biker gang with the other neighborhood kids and go up and down the streets like there's no tomorrow.
I wonder what can be done to make going back to school feel safer to kids and parents. Should we be schooling over the summer? Should we be planning modified schedules, with smaller groups of students taking turns in the classroom two or three days a week and homeschooling the rest? Should classes be moved outdoors, where spread of contagion would be less likely than it would be in the confined space of a classroom?
If we knew there was a 100% chance of a vaccine coming in the next year, we'd likely all agree to tough it out --with the homeschooling and stir-craziness-- and wait for it. But the truth is we really have no idea when or if there will be a vaccine. So, as we make this decision, we should assume there won't be one.
That brings us to the next question: what exactly is our risk tolerance? We make, statistically speaking, risky decisions for our children every single day. Putting your child on a school bus or in another motor vehicle. Allowing them to play sports, especially football. Letting them go on overnight trips, like camping, away from us. Sending them to a neighbor's pool party. All are routine events about which we don't think twice.
But bus crashes, sports injuries, and tragic accidents occur all the time. The question is: are we disproportionately treating coronavirus as a riskier proposition than those seemingly routine risks we allow our kids to take?
The data appears to show that kids — even if infected -- simply don't experience the serious or life-threatening effects of coronavirus as much as adults do -- especially older people and those with pre-existing conditions. There are still unknowns, such as inflammatory issues in kids that have been described by doctors in recent days. But the mortality rates overall, for children, are clear — they are very low, nearly non-existent. In Kentucky, where I live, the median age of a Covid-19 death is 80, and nearly 60% of all deaths are in nursing homes.
According to columnist Justin Fox: "For children, the risk of dying from Covid-19 appears to be much less than that of dying from influenza and pneumonia ..."
We don't cancel entire school years for the flu, or anything else. More than 12,000 kids under 19 die each year, a huge percentage of them in transportation and drowning accidents. But we haven't canceled buses, cars or swimming pools.
So how do we balance all of the risks against sending our kids back to school during a pandemic? Perhaps at least a temporary solution would be to allow our children to return to the classroom, but continue to keep them away from the most vulnerable, particularly the elderly (that's hard to write -- my kids' grandparents are jones-ing for some grandbaby time).
And, unfortunate as it may be, schools will have to sideline older teachers and staff members who shouldn't be exposed to highly populated closed environments. Finding ways to protect the most experienced teachers without losing their experience is vital; perhaps an army of Zoom tutors will spring up among this group.
The driving impetus of our national lockdown (including of schools) has been protecting vulnerable people and controlling the infection rate so hospitals aren't overwhelmed. Some hard-hit parts of the country are still struggling, but by and large we are achieving those goals.
Over the years, we have changed the designs of school buses, the rules of some sports and chaperone screening to make children's activities safe. Ahead of the 2020-21 educational year, schools and parents need to adapt to a "new normal" to mitigate risks to the most vulnerable people as we allow our children, who are by all appearances the least vulnerable, to resume their education.