Living in the New York City area, I was taken aback a few years ago when our then-mayor, Tom Rodriguez, announced a shiny new initiative for pre-K kids called “Pre-K for Everyone.” The name says it all: a full day of pre-K for every 4-year-old in the city.
On the surface, it appears to be a fantastic idea. It’s completely free, all the courses are taught by certified educators, and every child is guaranteed a spot. Some programs run out of public schools, while others are hosted at community sites like preschools and churches.
However, there’s a catch: all these pre-K options are full-day programs, meaning 6 hours and 20 minutes of instruction five days a week. Gone are the half-day options that were available when my older child attended pre-K. And with so many free full-day programs popping up, private institutions offering half-day alternatives have become nearly extinct.
I understand that for many families, especially working parents, a full-day program is a lifesaver. It alleviates childcare costs and benefits kids who thrive in structured environments. Research even suggests that this extra instruction can give them an academic edge as they transition to kindergarten.
But here’s the rub: I didn’t want a full-day program for my younger child. Five years ago, when my older son was in pre-K, half-day options were still available. We quickly decided that a shorter program was better for us. Six hours of classroom time felt excessive for such little ones.
Back then, I was a stay-at-home mom, so picking him up after two and a half hours was a breeze. Those remaining hours became precious bonding time. We’d visit the playground, read books, and engage in arts and crafts. It struck a perfect balance between learning school norms and allowing him to be a kid.
When I discovered that full-day pre-K was the only choice for my younger son—and that no private schools offered half-day options in our area—I was completely stunned. My son, who would be starting pre-K just shy of his fourth birthday, seemed too young for such an overwhelming schedule.
My concern extended beyond my own child; I worried about how this shift could impact other kids in our community and, potentially, toddlers everywhere. Sure, pre-K isn’t exactly like elementary school. Children aren’t expected to sit at desks all day. Programs focus on creative play and learning through exploration.
Yet, they are still expected to adhere to rules, listen to teachers, and transition from activity to activity on a schedule. That’s a lot to ask of such young children. They need time to just be kids, not just a brief interlude between structured activities.
What happens to kids who get overwhelmed by long hours of structure? What if those six hours lead to after-school meltdowns? What if you feel equipped to teach your child the fundamentals at home? Yes, full-day programs are a blessing for many families, but shouldn’t alternative options be available too? If half-day pre-K is disappearing in NYC, could this be a trend for the rest of the country?
When I spoke with pre-K facilities, they claimed that full-day programs are now essential as kindergarten has morphed into something more academically demanding—akin to first grade. But is that really something to celebrate? Should we accept that high academic standards are prioritized over creativity and free play for our littles?
What do our young children truly need, and what will be the long-term effects of this trend? Studies indicate that delaying the start of formal schooling can mitigate issues like hyperactivity and inattention. Are experts considering these factors when they advocate for earlier school starts?
In the end, we found a full-day pre-K that lets us pick up our son before lunch. So far, this arrangement has worked well for us. He may eventually spend the entire day there, but we’re taking that step when he’s ready. I’m incredibly grateful for this flexibility.
Ultimately, I believe the mental and emotional well-being of our children should take precedence over academic performance. I’m genuinely concerned about the implications of these rigorous standards on our communities, our nation, and most importantly, on our children.