CHILD CARE WORKERS ARE EDUCATORS, TOO

I own a preschool in North County, which is a space full of love and wonder and joy and community. I first want to acknowledge San Diego County for the support it gave my industry during the pandemic, in the form of a one-time grant.

Unfortunately, I feel the need today to express my disappointment in the disregard our county is showing for the health and safety of the early childhood sector, in general, and how our county has decided to distribute vaccinations to our sector, in particular.

Gov. Gavin Newsom stated that California would set aside 10% of all vaccine first doses for teachers and child care workers starting March 1. Each county then decided how to enact this guideline. San Diego County decided to put aside 20% of vaccinations for K-12 teachers, but also decided that child care workers would have zero access to these special vaccinations. So while we are in the same tier as K-12 teachers, and vaccinations are open to us, we aren’t being given the same opportunities to actually receive vaccinations.

From the first day of the pandemic, many early childhood facilities remained open. When no one knew the risks, when it felt terrifying to leave our houses, we showed up for children and families —because our profession seems to have always known what so many K-12 institutions still refuse to acknowledge: children’s cognitive, physical, emotional and social development are fundamentally intertwined and every child deserves a safe, nurturing, enriching physical space to live and love and learn with other children. This innate understanding of ours is backed by years of research in fields as diverse as economics, child development, neuroscience and education. And yet, with all this innate wisdom and breadth of research, many K-12 institutions continue to remain closed to this day.

Early childhood educators — known on the state employment sector list as “child care workers,” as if for some reason because we serve younger children, we are not real teachers — chose to stay open for many reasons. For some it was because our industry is not supported like other educational institutions and we could not financially afford to close. Many early childhood facilities are woman- and minority-owned, and often teachers make almost minimum wage. Having no public support initially meant many providers were choosing between what felt like our personal safety and our ability to provide food and shelter for our own families. Many of us stayed open because our profession is more than a job to us, and we felt a deep commitment to serving our families during this time of need. We know we provide an essential cog in the ability for our society to run smoothly by providing care for children while their parents work. But we also know that we play an integral role in the very nature of how we raise human beings in our society.

And then as the fall approached, there was a (very valid) uproar of concern about teachers’ health and safety. I have never felt so invisible during my professional life as I did at that moment. Were we not teachers? Had we not been doing exactly what the public was outraged elementary teachers were about to be asked to do? Where was the outrage on our behalf? And yet again, as we did at the beginning of the pandemic, we swallowed our pride and our desire to at least be acknowledged and to be heard, and we kept working to support our children, families and the fabric of society.

And now, as so many schools are still closed, despite the evidence of lack of community spread in these institutions when safety measures are taken, and the clear evidence of the harm online learning and isolation are having upon our children, we are giving K-12 teachers special privileges in receiving vaccinations, but not us.

We in early childhood have been doing right by children. We in early childhood have been supporting families. We in early childhood have been showing up in person everyday. We in early childhood have carefully weighed the odds and decided that the benefits are greater than the risks because our children’s very well-being is at stake.

We have done so while stressed and scared and in financial uncertainty, as we hug and comfort and provide normalcy and safety for children. We have done so with very little support and very little acknowledgment. And now, even though on a state level, we were included in the vaccinations set aside for our profession, we are being told our county will not distribute vaccinations in this manner. In my mind, this is a disgrace. How can they give vaccinations to teachers who are not doing in-person learning at this time while not honoring their duty to us?

I ask that the county find a way to provide us, “child care workers,” access to the vaccines set aside for educators. This could happen through child care vaccination-only events, forming a similar partnership for child care workers that the county has formed with the California Schools Voluntary Employees Benefits Association and the Department of Education, or countless other ways.

To me, it seems only fair and just and equitable. I believe all in-person teachers should be vaccinated immediately (followed by those not in person) and that the equity index the county is using is important — I just ask that we child care workers are included as well.

Manger has been in early childhood care since 2000. She has worked as a teacher, administrator and college instructor. She has owned and directed her preschool in North County since 2016. She lives in Encinitas.