If you’re both a parent and a teacher, you know what it’s like to be caught in the crossfire of the education system—or, as I like to call it, “the system in general called reality.” It’s a strange place to be, standing in the middle of a box that’s supposed to provide structure and stability, yet constantly shifting under the weight of change. This box, this system, demands compliance, often forcing us to act on reflex rather than thoughtful response. It’s a complicated equation, one we’re all obligated to solve, even when the variables keep changing.

For nearly a decade, before my son was diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, I was a teacher who championed a balanced approach to education—one that blended homeschooling with traditional schooling for a more holistic learning experience. This idea resonated with many in the Educator Tribe, whether they were parents, professional teachers, or even educational institutions. Smaller, alternative schools began to embrace this philosophy, though they often struggled for recognition and legitimacy in a world dominated by conventional education systems.

Then came 2020.

The world spiraled into what felt like another dimension, gripped by an unseen force: the COVID-19 pandemic. Within weeks, millions of lives were lost, and the world came to a standstill. The education system, once neatly boxed and sealed, was cracked open, its contents spilling out into chaos. Suddenly, terms like “unschooling” and “homeschooling,” once niche concepts discussed in parenting blogs and among trendsetters, became part of the global conversation. The “new normal” had arrived, and with it, a tidal wave of pros and cons, debates and divisions.

For some, the transition was seamless. Homeschoolers and unschoolers found themselves vindicated, their methods validated by the sudden shift to home-based learning. But for the majority, especially in countries struggling to adapt, the change was overwhelming. Predictably, the pandemic didn’t just expose flaws in the system—it also brought out the worst in people. Ugly attitudes and behaviors surfaced, and the once-collaborative relationship between parents, teachers, and students began to fracture.

Let’s zoom in on the directly affected: students, parents/guardians, and teachers. As the world scrambled to adjust, the education system tried to keep running, determined to ensure no child was left behind. But for those who already practiced homeschooling or parental educational guidance, the question arose: “Fall behind from what?” With schools closed and online learning becoming the norm, the differences between these approaches became stark, even politically charged.

The media and online communities only amplified the chaos. Memes flooded social media, with homeschoolers trolling non-homeschoolers about their “relaxed” lifestyles while parents and teachers argued over whose responsibility it was to educate children. Bloggers and companies seized the opportunity to monetize the crisis, offering free PDFs on handwashing techniques—after you subscribed, of course. TikTok parodies and COVID workout routines provided some comic relief, but let’s be honest: COVID is no laughing matter.

From my personal perspective, this has been a stressful time. My son is home because schools are closed, and like many Millennial parents, I’m grappling with questions: Do I have to homeschool? Not really. Do I choose to be more hands-on with his learning? Why not? But more importantly, I chose to step up because I’m a parent. And parenting isn’t something you can do halfway.

The memes and comments targeting parents and teachers are disheartening. Instead of fostering collaboration during this crisis, they’ve driven a wedge between the two groups. The media and netizens aren’t helping either, fueling online battles over who cares more about a child’s education. It’s appalling to see blame games overshadow the actual roles of parents and teachers.

As a parent, my role is clear: I will support my child’s learning. This isn’t a new adjustment—it’s always been part of parenting, regardless of background or situation. Educators, with their firsthand knowledge of the curriculum and access to Ministry of Education (MOE) guidelines, play a crucial role too. But let’s not forget: every child is a different learner. Teachers’ experience in guiding diverse students can ease the transition to online learning, but homeschooling doesn’t require rigid lesson plans. It’s about flexibility and freedom.

If I’m homeschooling, do I need a formal lesson plan, or is a checklist enough? The answer is simple: it’s up to you. Why deny yourself the freedom to adapt? For parents who can’t homeschool due to work commitments, there’s no shame in that. Whether you’re working two jobs or juggling multiple responsibilities, your efforts matter. Activities like cooking, cleaning, or even playing puzzles are valuable learning experiences. Children learn from everything—it’s adults who are fixated on systematic learning.

This post isn’t meant to shame anyone in the education field, but it’s revolting to see so-called professionals belittle parents for not having an educational background. It’s a new low. Yes, some parents may struggle to adapt, but stress and overwhelm are valid responses to this unprecedented situation. The wiser approach is to understand, support, and collaborate—not blame or shame.

For parents of children with special needs, like my son, the worries go beyond academics. We’re not focused on grades or rubrics. Our children’s progress is measured in small, meaningful steps. The pandemic has disrupted their routines, leaving them confused and stressed. They miss their peers and struggle to adapt to this grounded-like environment. But they’re not missing out—they’re learning resilience, adaptability, and the value of support.

So, if you’re worried about your child’s academic progress, take a step back. Lower your expectations and celebrate the little joys. If you’re a teacher, remember that your role extends beyond lesson plans. And if you’re a parent, know that your efforts, no matter how small, make a difference.

This new norm, this so-called QuarantiMe, is an opportunity to rethink education. It’s a chance to break free from the rigid boxes and rubrics that define success. For children on the spectrum or with other disabilities, this is a time to focus on what truly matters: their growth, their passions, and their well-being.

Let’s stop spinning in circles, trying to serve a system that can be broken by a pandemic. Instead, let’s build something better—one that values resilience, adaptability, and the unique potential of every child. Because at the end of the day, education isn’t about fitting into a box. It’s about learning to thrive, no matter what the world throws at us.