It’s hard to square the earnest concern with recent events around Washington, D.C., when deep-pocketed, acclaimed school systems locked a half-million kids out of school for over a week because a 12-hour snowstorm dropped six or seven inches of snow. Especially when Starbucks, local bars, and nail salons in those same communities were open and busy within a day or two.
When the anticipated big snowstorm arrived to the East Coast on Sunday, January 25, it was expected to drop about a foot on the Washington region. It ultimately dumped about half that. But everyone expected schools would be closed on Monday. A blast of icy temperatures then raised doubts as to whether schools would reopen on Tuesday morning, 36 hours after the snow and sleet stopped. Schools remained closed. Then they kept kids out on Wednesday as well, even after the federal government and most local businesses had resumed operations.
By Thursday, most private schools in the area had reopened—but not the prestigious suburban school systems. In northern Virginia, Fairfax County had teacher workdays on Thursday and Friday, so 180,000 students were done for the week. (If you want to convince people you’re a clueless yokel, ask why Fairfax couldn’t have moved those teacher workdays to earlier in the week during the snow days, which would have allowed schools to reopen Thursday and Friday. The response is a look that roughly translates to, “Yeah, we value our students and all, but you can’t mess with teacher workdays!”). Arlington County, Virginia, kept the schools for its 28,000 students closed on Thursday and then had a teacher grading day on Friday. (Only a loon would suggest teachers might’ve been asked to do their grading on one of the four snow days that week).
The weekend arrived. Residents bustled to errands and activities, including gyms and indoor pools located inside several “closed” schools.
The next Monday rolled around. For those keeping track at home, we are now Big Snowstorm +8. Well, these nationally renowned school systems, including Fairfax, Arlington, and Montgomery County, Maryland, remained closed.
On Tuesday, day nine, the schools finally reopened . . . with a two-hour delay. But that wasn’t the end—no, not by a long shot. Loudon County, Virginia, opened two hours late on days 10, 11, and 12 as well, to allow for “improved visibility and slightly warmer temperatures as students travel to school.” Fairfax County followed suit. Montgomery County opened two hours late on day 10, given the modest possibility that a dusting of snow might fall. (Narrator: No snow fell.)
The message to students and parents was clear: When you need us, we may (or may not) be here for you. As education analyst Chad Aldeman, a frustrated resident of Fairfax County, put it:
In the wake of a snowstorm, some people were back at work almost immediately. Some parts of society continued to function normally. Starbucks was open, but the schools were closed. It reminded me of COVID all over again, when the truly essential industries had to find a way to keep operating. And public schools, despite all protestations otherwise, continued to act as if they are not essential to our daily lives.
What did district leaders have to say for themselves?
Well, in the early going, plenty of superintendents had great fun seizing upon snow day announcements as (cringe-worthy) opportunities to strut their TikTok stuff. Then, once public patience started to wear thin, district officials shrugged that there was nothing they could do.
Fairfax County superintendent Michelle Reid explained that the district has something like 45,000 bus stops, and it just wasn’t possible to clear them all in a week. “Could Fairfax have temporarily moved to a consolidated or streamlined route schedule?” asked no one.
Arlington County’s parks and rec crew did an impressive job of expeditiously clearing trails and community centers early in the week, but they don’t do school lots or bus pick-up points. Arlington superintendent Francisco Durán, whose motto is “Meet every student by name, strength, and need” and whose district covers only 25 square miles, didn’t appear to consider working across agency lines to get kids in school so that their strengths and needs could be met. I mean, with enough purpose, gumption, and urgency, remarkable things can be accomplished in the span of a week. Needless to say, these qualities were not on display.
