But only recently — and mostly in reliably conservative Kansas — has the term been used regularly and clearly as a political wedge. Education advocates in Kansas said they had heard it in conversations with state legislators (though few use it in public statements), in discussions about public schools on Facebook and on some conservative news sites.
The use of the term “government schools” is part of a broad education agenda that includes restraining costs. The far-right and libertarian wings of the Republican Party are pushing the state to loosen its laws to allow more charter schools. They oppose programs that offer free or reduced-price breakfasts and lunches, believing that schools have become part of the “nanny state” — another politically charged term — and are usurping the role of parents.
They don’t treat school as a race to achieve We moved to the Netherlands, it was a shock to find out that my daughter would be starting school on her 4th birthday. While Dutch kids start school at a young age, it isn’t an early start in a race to see who can learn to read first or memorize the times tables.
Kids are encouraged to explore and play, and the importance of developing social skills is at the forefront of their education, especially in the early years. With 17 million people crammed into a country roughly the size of Maryland, it’s not surprising that a high value is placed on developing the skills to help you live side by side.
They don’t see their kids as a reflection of their parenting A lifeline for us expat moms were the coffee mornings where we would swap war stories in our shared mother tongue, regardless of our accent. Whether boasting or bemoaning, there was a common thread of viewing our child’s actions as a direct product of our parenting decisions. It seemed like an almost reflexive response to doubt our patenting strategy if our offspring weren’t quite living up to our maternal expectations.
The Dutch moms didn’t appear to regularly indulge in this nagging self-doubt. They seemed, from the outside at least, to view their children as separate people, with their own personalities and strengths, and not a reflection of hours spent pouring over parenting books or coordinating after-school activities. The Dutch parents I met were proud of their children’s achievements at school. They were happy when their daughter scored a goal at her hockey match or kept a tune on the piano at the school assembly. They felt proud but they didn’t feel responsible, or confuse their child’s achievement with a report card on their parenting skills.
Tiger moms and helicopter parenting doesn't strike me as good practice, but I'm sure readers will come down on the article.
When Ms. DeOliveira-Longinetti called about his federal loans, an administrator offered condolences and assured her the balance would be written off.
But she got a far different response from a New Jersey state agency that had also lent her son money.
“Please accept our condolences on your loss,” a letter from that agency, the Higher Education Student Assistance Authority, said. “After careful consideration of the information you provided, the authority has determined that your request does not meet the threshold for loan forgiveness. Monthly bill statements will continue to be sent to you.”
Ms. DeOliveira-Longinetti, who co-signed on the loans, was shocked and confused. But her experience with the authority, which runs by far the largest state-based student loan program in the country, is hardly an isolated one, an investigation by ProPublica, in collaboration with The New York Times, found.
New Jersey’s loans, which currently total $1.9 billion, are unlike those of any other government lending program for students in the country. They come with extraordinarily stringent rules that can easily lead to financial ruin. Repayments cannot be adjusted based on income, and borrowers who are unemployed or facing other financial hardships are given few breaks.
The loans also carry higher interest rates than similar federal programs. Most significant, New Jersey’s loans come with a cudgel that even the most predatory for-profit players cannot wield: the power of the state. New Jersey can garnish wages, rescind state income tax refunds, revoke professional licenses, even take away lottery winnings — all without having to get court approval.
“It’s state-sanctioned loan-sharking,” Daniel Frischberg, a bankruptcy lawyer, said. “The New Jersey program is set up so that you fail.”
When Donald Trump introduced his new university from the lobby of his famous tower, he declared that it would be unlike any of his other ventures.
Trump University would be a noble endeavor, he said, with an emphasis on education over profits. It was a way for him to give back, to share his expertise with the masses, to build a “legacy as an educator.”
He wouldn’t even keep all the money — if he happened to make a profit, he would turn the funds over to charity.
“If I had a choice of making lots of money or imparting lots of knowledge, I think I’d be as happy to impart knowledge as to make money,” Trump said at the inaugural news conference in the spring of 2005.
Tensions flared when the State Supreme Court first ruled in February that unless poorer districts begin receiving more money by the end of June, the state’s public schools could be shut down. Mr. Brownback signed a bill in April intending to fix the education funding formula. But the court on Friday said the measure had not solved the problem and reiterated the deadline.
What happens next is not clear. Schools in Kansas are generally finished for this academic year and Wednesday was set to be the Legislature’s last day, though it could return for a special session. Conservative lawmakers have denounced activist judges and Mr. Brownback has accused the court of “political brinksmanship.” But the governor had hinted that he might cut funding to Medicaid and higher education if the Supreme Court ordered the state to allocate more money for schools.