Open Works hasn’t strayed from getting their hands dirty during the COVID-19 pandemic. Last spring, the Greenmount makerspace sprang into action when a shortage of personal protective equipment inspired them to launch a 3D print-off of face shields for frontline workers. Now, one year later, they’ve set their sights on another need: providing desks for students learning from home.

“There has been so much emphasis on making sure kids have laptops and internet access,” says founder Will Holman, “but desks weren’t even something I thought about.”

That changed in January, when Open Works sent out a survey to assess the needs of local public schools and community organizations. A key finding was that they were recording high numbers of broken or damaged devices from students who had accidentally dropped their school-issued laptops and tablets while learning from their beds.

Holman and his team were inspired by groups like “Desks by Dads,” created by Prince George’s County parents Jess and Al Berrellez, who were dedicated to a similar mission: providing free desks to low-income students during the pandemic. But Open Works also noticed two flaws in these other initiatives: Handmade desks took too long to produce, and shipping them ready-made proved difficult for distribution.

For that, Open Works’ contract services manager, Zach Adams, designed a flat-pack wooden desk that students can easily self-assemble, with only five pieces, four wedges—created by the workshop’s automated cutting machines—and two zip ties to create a supportive workspace.

“We tried to make it as simple as possible,” says Holman. “It doesn’t require any power tools, screws, glue, or anything else.”

The Open Works team was surprised by the overwhelming response. During their initial call to local principals, they received more than 4,300 requests in 48 hours.

“I had no idea that it was such a problem,” says April Lewis, director of community and culture. “Just the sheer number and quick response was probably the most shocking thing for me.”

With financial assistance from donations and a crowdfunding campaign, they have raised enough money to make some 750 desks, though they’re still a long way from meeting the demand. Even after COVID, they hope to continue the project for students in need on an annual basis.

“A lot of households have multiple students—there might be two kids at the kitchen table together,” says Lewis. “Giving these at-home learners an opportunity to create the workspace they need for success is really important.”

This spring, when the coronavirus led to an influx of patients in hospitals across the country and the closure of schools to curb the pandemic’s spread, Lacey Harris, a nurse at the Johns Hopkins Hospital, found herself, like many parents across America, unsure of what to do with her 6-year-old son. In the absence of a classroom, she turned to her Pasadena branch of the Y of Central Maryland, enrolling Johnathan in the nonprofit’s first responder’s emergency program, which offered childcare for essential workers, and later its academic support center, which provided assistance with online learning.

“It was a big relief not having to worry about calling family members and shuffling to find childcare last minute,” says Harris. “It was a smooth transition from one program to the next.”

In the face of COVID-19, the Y of Central Maryland has continued its mission of supporting community needs, from food drives to elderly assistance. Newly established academic support centers at the family-based organization have been especially helpful, with the push toward online learning putting immense strain on children and their parents or caretakers, be it due to juggling work schedules or a lack of access to laptops or Wi-Fi, particularly among community members of color and those living in areas with high concentrations of poverty.

“We needed to approach this through an equity lens,” says Derryck Fletcher, (pictured above), senior vice president of youth development for the Y, who leads related programming and notes that children in food-insecure households usually receive all three meals at school. Parents also expressed the need for their kids to socially engage and establish a sense of normalcy.

When the centers launched last August, “A lot of kids that came to us had been in their houses with very limited interaction since March,” says Dana Ashley, vice president of youth operations, who works with Fletcher. “The children were suffering.”

There are now 25 centers, from Baltimore City to Anne Arundel County, that work with children ages 5 through 12, with some 750 young people currently enrolled. Each location is run by experienced staff who monitor and assist socially distanced groups of no more than 12 students in classroom-like environments. The kids bring their laptops, headphones, and school supplies to assigned tables, where they log into class. They get afternoon recess, as well as snacks and homework help, plus activities such as board games, puzzles, and even yoga and swimming. Partnerships with select schools also provide opportunities for free breakfast and lunch.

“To me, it would be insane to think [parents] would be able to do all that by themselves,” says Sara Milstein, chief marketing officer for the Y. “Young children were not made to sit in front of computers all day long. It’s just completely antithetical to what childhood is all about.”

As of press time, the spring semester remained in limbo, with a ransomware attack throwing a curveball in Baltimore County’s hybrid education plan, while the city’s public system moved forward with reopening most schools, being one of the few jurisdictions to do so despite a rise in COVID-19 cases. The Y has only had a number of isolated cases since the program’s launch. Students have daily temperature checks and are monitored for symptoms.

Fletcher and his colleagues hope to find local and national funding to keep the program going for as long as it is needed. “Families are getting what they need,” he says. “We’re affording working parents the opportunity to go to work and not have to worry about their kids during the day.”

If I’m being honest, I have a certain level of anxiety in writing this essay. Putting to paper all of my shortcomings when it comes to combating systemic racism opens me up to criticism. Admitting my outrage without action is just hot air. Just believing Black Lives Matter as some abstract thought isn’t enough. I keep seeing the same message: If you’ve ever wondered what you’d do during slavery, the Holocaust, or the civil-rights movement, you’re doing it now. In my mind, I’m getting arrested at a “sit-in.” In reality, I’m at home with my four children doing my best to home-school and get through a pandemic. Am I not as brave and progressive as I thought?

My kids—Milo, 13, Willa, 11, and Zeke and Gideon, 9—spent their first years of life in Baltimore City. They attended a public charter school that pulled students from every zip code, and our classrooms were filled with students of many different races and economic backgrounds. A few years ago, when we moved just over the line into the county, our kids enrolled at a school that we love, but where we, as Jews, represent one of the few examples of diversity.

We—my husband, Ron, and I—try to teach our kids daily about what’s right and wrong. We talk about the news, never hiding the hard stories. We vote—in person when we can and always dragging our kids along, so they grow up knowing that this is what we do in a democracy. We repeat, over and over, that everyone is loved and welcome and equal in our eyes.

We march, as we did in that first big Women’s March in Washington, D.C., after the last election (and the subsequent smaller ones in Baltimore). We’ve also marched against gun violence and for abortion rights and now we stand in the streets for Black lives. I go for many reasons, but mostly to breathe in—if only metaphorically now through my mask—the air of like-minded people. And make sure that my own voice is heard.

But are we just surface activists? After the BLM march in Roland Park, I posted a picture of my daughter holding her “RACISM IS A PANDEMIC” sign on social media and wrote: “I worry about posting the wrong thing and offending someone. To post #blackouttuesday or not. To attend a mostly white protest in support of racial justice or not. But then I thought, if I do nothing else but show my daughter that we don’t sit idly by when we see our fellow humankind hurting, that’s enough.”

But let’s be honest. That’s not enough.

It’s time for the tough conversations and self-reflection.

It’s time for the tough conversations and self-reflection. My kids are my opportunity to do better.

I think about reaching out to my friend, Tanika White Davis, a Black mom who has twin boys a year older than mine and an 8-year old daughter, but then I see she has posted her newest Sun parenting column, “No Sage Words for This Moment in History.”

“It is all just too much,” she writes. “And I am exhausted from feeling all of it, all at once.” How do I put my burden on her after reading this? “I know I should have more to say,” her column continues. “But I am no sage. I am just a mother of three Black children, trying to protect them. You’ll forgive me then if I spend what’s left of my energy doing just that.”

I want to say to her: “Help me help you.” But that just feels like extra work for her. (Though she later scolds me: “You know you can always reach out to me.”)

Instead, I reach out to Traci Wright, dean of students at The Park School of Baltimore in Brooklandville. We talk about race and privilege and kids. Wright leads the school’s formative Civil Rights trip, now in its 16th year, that takes students and faculty from Park, Baltimore City College High School, and City Neighbors High School on a tour of the South. From Atlanta to Birmingham to Montgomery to Little Rock to Selma, they visit sites and meet people who were instrumental during the 1960s movement for racial equality.

“They learn the importance of speaking up and being involved,” says Wright. One of the local stops is the Hampton National Historic Site in Towson, a vast 18th-century estate that still has its original stone slave quarters, which she suggests I visit with my kids for a guided tour. “They do a phenomenal job of helping kids understand the system of slavery,” says Wright. “No one is born a slave.”

Wright is full of wisdom and suggestions and kindness toward my jumble of questions. She forwards me a piece on NPR’s the Hidden Brain about how it’s more important to change the way that a community thinks about race and racial bias than it is to focus on one individual person. She tells me to read “75 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice” on Medium and says she even learned things from that article that she, as a Black woman, should be doing.

I tell her about the “inclusive parents versus anti-racist parents” post from Curious Parenting, a caregiver online community, that I keep seeing shared by friends. In one example, an inclusive parent makes sure their child’s library is racially diverse. An anti-racist parent intentionally includes books that go beyond slavery and the civil rights movement to include reads on ballerina Misty Copeland or NASA mathematician Katherine Johnson or poet Maya Angelou. I realize that I fall into the former category.

Wright emphasizes that it’s important for students—hers at Park and mine at their Baltimore County public schools—to feel empowered. “It’s up to the adults to create a culturally relevant curriculum,” she says. And what is culturally relevant? Well, if you live in Baltimore, says Wright, “just open your eyes” and look around. That includes teaching about both current events and history in a real and truthful way.

In addition to Wright, I speak with Mark Riding, a high-school English teacher at the all-girls Maryvale Preparatory School in Lutherville, where he is the only Black faculty member.

“I’m not an expert, but I am a passionate educator,” he tells me. There have been only a handful of Black teachers in the school’s 70-year history. “The students are overwhelmingly white,” says Riding, the father of two teenagers. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, even more since the upheaval happened: How can I bring a fresh perspective to a community that is sorely lacking that [Black] perspective?” Despite some pushback over the years, Riding has always made it a priority to amplify the histories and lessons of the marginalized, from feminism to the Black voice.

This spring, he saved for last the Harlem Renaissance—the artistic explosion of Black culture in New York in the 1920s—and ended up having to teach it virtually. But he and his students still got in deep about why there needed to be a renaissance in the first place. And they also talked about the intersection of race and gender. “No matter what racial or ethnic background, you are marginalized for being a woman,” Riding told them.

Where do I go from here? I don’t write this to feel better about myself.

The final assignment was to write a poem exploring their own differences. Riding was surprised and impressed to see topics ranging from religion to sexuality to racial disparities. “Everyone has knots in their ropes,” he says. But recognizing that helps you “understand other people’s knots.” That’s a difficult concept even for adults, he says.

Riding told me, “I wanted to expose these girls to the dark, scary, disgusting history” of the Black struggle. But also, what came out of the struggle: music, poetry, stories, and the civil rights movement.

Wright says she’s been energized to see “the far corners of the state” reacting to this moment, as well. There are BLM marches in Harford County and on the Eastern Shore.

“People are seeing these issues as their own,” she says. “They’re becoming everyone’s issues. When people are marginalized, we are all marginalized.” Kids see that—sometimes more than parents—and are responding.

I tell Wright I have great expectations for my kids, as Jews, a group that has faced its own marginalization and decimation. Our house is filled with books about the Holocaust, we’ve visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C., we’ve listened to survivor stories, and we feel it deeply and personally when a synagogue is under attack or a group of white supremacists are called “very fine people.”

Wright understands the connection I’m trying to make. “You have experienced other-ing and genocide,” she says. “The Holocaust happened not even on our soil.” But there is an outrage surrounding violence against Jews that isn’t always extended to Blacks, she notes. Wright recommends finding books on coalitions between Blacks and Jews to make this even more relatable to my children. “What is the history here in terms of people coming together?” she poses. “Baltimore is a segregated city. We live in our own pockets. We don’t really socialize. How can we bring people together?”

I’ve been thinking about that a lot. It came up in a conversation on Father’s Day. We (me, my husband, my own mom and dad) were sitting around the table discussing the BLM movement. My mother is 71 years old and, still, this movement has awakened her in new ways. As a first step of what she hopes will be many more steps, she just became a member of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. “Wouldn’t you want every person to walk through Jewish museums to better understand our plight and resilience and culture?” I say to my mom. “I would guess the same is true for that museum.” We’ll go together as soon as we can, I tell her.

Prior to this moment, and this movement, I’m not sure we would have had this conversation. And that’s what I have witnessed more and more—the conversations. “Can this happen in schools?” I ask Wright. “Public schools are more racially and socio-economically diverse,” she says. (And while that might not be true for our elementary school, it certainly is at Dumbarton Middle School, which my oldest attends.) “Public school is real life,” she says.

It’s the place where you are together with people who look different from you. It should be the best place for listening and sharing and growing.

Wright acknowledges that the conversations about institutional racism are not easy for anyone to begin. But it’s our jobs as parents to foster relationships, she says, whether it’s making sure we are on sports teams that are diverse or forming a book or movie club with families that create a safe space for honest questions and discussions.

“Initially, it will likely feel forced,” says Wright. “But we have to work harder to combat the systems of oppression. It’s okay if it makes you feel nervous or uncomfortable because the more we talk about it, the more it becomes second nature. It’s retraining our brains to see what we’ve been missing all along.”

In the days that follow, I spend a long time scrolling through posts on the Anti-Racist/Social Justice Parenting Discussion Group on Facebook that I joined during the heat of the protests. There are virtual events (the Reginald F. Lewis Museum’s African American Children’s Book Fair), town halls (“How to Raise and Teach Anti-Racist Kids,” hosted by author Kwame Alexander), and fundraising ideas. I can’t do it all, but I can start somewhere. I sign up for Zoom calls about raising socially conscious children, and I order Jason Reynolds’s and Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped: Racism, Antiracisim and You and Veronica Chambers’s Resist: 35 Profiles of Ordinary People Who Rose Up Against Tyranny and Injustice.

Where do I go from here? I do not write this to feel better about myself, or to say that Googling or reading or even protesting makes me a social-justice warrior mom. But I do understand that there is a time to talk and a time to listen. A time to teach and a time to be taught. My kids are watching me and all my actions. We, as a family, need to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. We need to hold ourselves accountable.

I promise that we will.

I’m not going to sugarcoat it. This has been hard. We survived a week of adjustments and togetherness (so much togetherness) and that sinking feeling, for this extrovert, of deleting her entire color-coded Google calendar for the foreseeable future.

After an intense family vote, we’ve officially named our homeschool, “The Diamond Nature School of America.” My nine-year-old, Zeke, created a logo and I promised we would make tee shirts at some point. The name is fitting, as we’ve done most of our “schooling” this past week outdoors.

While properly practicing social distancing, we visited the Daniels Area at Patapsco Valley State Park, NCR Trail, Gunpowder Falls South Trail, Beverly Triton Beach Park, Cromwell Valley Park, and Historic Jerusalem Mill Village. Even on the rainy days I make my kids put on their raincoats and take a walk around the block. (“Don’t go near anyone. Don’t touch anything,” I reiterate to them.) Fresh air cures all, for them and for me. A walk in the woods is my Xanax.

But I know there also needs to be some semblance of school. “This isn’t a vacation,” I keep reminding my oldest. (And myself.) But I’m struggling. Four kids, three grades, and one family laptop. (I may have had my 13-year-old write a persuasive essay last week about why he needed Xbox Live.)

So, I reached out to two friends—Jennifer Solomon and Miranda Altschuler—who homeschool by choice to see if they could offer some suggestions to those of us who are homeschooling by being thrown off a cliff.

Solomon and Altschuler both homeschool a gaggle of girls. Solomon’s are 4, 7, and 10, and Altschuler, in addition to a brand-new baby, has an 11, 8, and 5 year old.

“We began homeschooling a few years ago and have never looked back,” Solomon says. “During one particularly enthusiastic moment, I may have even said that homeschooling is just so wonderful, everyone should do it—but I didn’t actually mean it, you guys,” she jokes.

Altschuler adds that, as longtime homeschoolers, her family’s adjustment hasn’t been quite so drastic. But for parents who are finding themselves suddenly homeschooling, she hopes that the following tips help “provide a bit of clarity amidst the chaos.”

1. Our “best” is going to look different every day, and that is just fine.

JS: Some days, everything will fall into place beautifully and your little angels will engage and learn and you’ll Instagram it all (#coronavirusschooling!) and wonder why you haven’t been doing this all along. Other days will be a struggle. They’ll bicker and you’ll snap, and you’ll find yourself rationalizing any and everything as a learning opportunity just so you can be over-and-done-with-it for the day. So we’re just going to try to get through this the best we can.

2. Go easy on yourself!

JS: Lower your self-expectations and demands. You’ve been thrown into a situation that is new and somewhat scary. That friend of yours posting an hour-by-hour recap of “Mommy-Camp Homeschool” may be well-intentioned, but posts like those can really trigger feelings of inadequacy. Right now we are all feeling vulnerable and, frankly, pretty clueless. None of us knows what we’re doing because, well, none of us has ever faced a GLOBAL PANDEMIC before. Now isn’t the time for competitive parenting.

3. Don’t worry about academic regression.

JS: Your kids are not going to fall behind. I repeat: your kids are not going to fall behind. As a global community, we are all in the same boat—albeit a really terrible, careening, lurching boat (definitely getting a one-star Yelp review from me)—together right now. Your child’s emotional and mental health is more important than their academic progress during this time.

4. Don’t try to recreate school at home.

MA: Schooling at home is less formal and takes less time because there are fewer students. Homeschooling should be made to meet the needs and preferences of your family and individual children. Have your students’ list of goals in front of you while you determine how lesson time should be allocated in your home during this unusual stretch of time.

5. You can be flexible with your schooling when that’s what the mood dictates.

JS: Did your kid read a comic book today? BOOM. Reading. Right there. Did you bake a double batch of cookies together to stress-eat later? Nice! Measuring equals math skills. Play a board game? Logic and reasoning! Spend all day outside? Recess! Nature! Tackle chores and laundry? Life skills. Your kids aren’t going to fall behind; they’re just going to learn a little differently for a while.

6. Consider the whole child.

MA: What are your child’s physical, emotional, and academic needs? Younger students need plenty of free play and new math and phonics skills reinforced. Older students may need to study for the SATs and develop life skills they’ll take with them to college. Every child needs responsibilities around the house and time outside.

7. Don’t try to do ALL the things.

JS: One silver lining to this awful situation has been the outpouring of online resources to help teach and occupy our kids. From art tutorials to virtual field trips to read-alouds to yoga classes, we have an unprecedented wealth of resources at our fingertips. Authors, educators, artists, and musicians are showing their true colors and offering countless activities and videos. And that is amazing, and helpful, and generous, but it is also A LOT.

You don’t have to do all the things. You don’t even have to do five of the things. If you happen to do ONE of the things and your kids enjoy it, that’s great, but there is no pressure to do all the fun things, all the time. It’s exhausting.

8. Seek out great materials and resources.

MA: Explore book lists provided by teachers or found online. Take a look at your own bookshelf. Check out ebooks and audiobooks available through your library. Find books that will naturally pique your child’s interest through engaging narratives, not just text books.

9. Involve your children in the planning.

JS: Kids respond really well when we give them a sense of ownership and treat them as though they are actually our fellow human beings (a difficult concept to grasp sometimes, I know). When children and teens feel respected and included, they are less likely to push back. With ownership comes accountability.

10. Follow through, but ease in.

MA: We don’t want to recreate school at home, but we also don’t want a disorienting free-for-all. For the first few days of your plan, just do skill work. Then, every day or two, add a subject. Do one thing well, then try another. These are not normal times, so take it slow and be gentle with yourselves and each other.

11. Prioritize relationships.

MA: Children need structure and freedom, expectations and acceptance. Whether we homeschool or not, our children rely on us to cultivate an atmosphere where they can learn and grow, secure in our commitment to who they are and who they can become. Perhaps this awful situation is also an opportunity, and our families can come out the other side of this experience even stronger.

12. Remember we are in the middle of a public health crisis. We are not in the middle of an academic crisis.

JS: Be gentle with your children and yourself. Stressed adults cannot teach stressed kids. When things get frustrating, walk away. As parents, we are the heart of our family. We set the tone—we’re the family thermostat, if you will. Our kids look to us for safety, security, and love. No one knows how things are going to play out during these uncertain times. As parents, it is our job to cultivate beauty where we can and provide a calm, stable home. A haven. But make no mistake, in the coming months, there will be bickering. Eye rolling. Opposition. Tantrums. Meltdowns. (And that’s just the parents!)

The start of the fall semester marks the return of college students—from local universities like Towson, Loyola, Johns Hopkins, Morgan State, and MICA—back to Charm City. And now that classes have started, it’s easy for undergrads to fall back into the monotony of the class-homework-sleep cycle.

But as a student, it’s also important to take advantage of your time in Baltimore and experience all that the city has to offer—and do it on the cheap. Don’t forget that the handy student ID in your wallet can save you money all around town. Use your student discount to check these local attractions, museums, department stores, and bars off of your Baltimore bucket list.

Get Busy

Orioles: Attending an Orioles game is a Baltimorean right of passage. There’s nothing like donning your orange gear, pre-gaming at one of Baltimore’s many sports bars, and then heading over to Camden Yards to watch the big game. And every Friday game, students in groups of 15 or more can purchase discounted Left Field Upper Reserve tickets for just $10. So grab a group of friends, make a plan, and get bird watching! 333 W Camden St., 888-848-BIRD

Baltimore Symphony Orchestra: Get your daily dose of culture at the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, an internationally recognized music hall founded in 1916. The orchestra offers a special $35 student pass for access to unlimited concerts, admission to BSO College Nights, and insider access to all BSO events. Think of it as the perfect upgrade to date night. 1212 Cathedral St., 410-783-8000

The Senator Theatre: The Senator Theatre is one of Baltimore’s greatest treasures. The historic single-screen movie theater premiers new releases, shows artsy films, and features some of our favorite classic flicks. The restored theater displays the original terrazzo floors and still has massive gold curtains that dramatically reveal the screen before each showing. So skip the Friday night party and head over to Towson—student tickets are only $9. 5904 York Rd., 410-323-4424

Get Smart

The Maryland Zoo in Baltimore: Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! See all of your favorite zoo animals at the Maryland Zoo as well as lesser-known critters like bald eagles, Anglo-Nubian goats, and Kunekune pigs. With 50 percent off ticket prices for students, a self-imposed field trip to the zoo is definitely the ideal place to waste an afternoon. One Safari Place, 410-396-7102

Maryland Historical Society: There’s no better way to get to know Baltimore than to visit to the Maryland Historical Society. Grab a $6 ticket and head to this Mt. Vernon museum, featuring collections with historical artifacts, portraits, pottery, and archaeological objects that represent virtually every aspect of Maryland history. Perfect for history buffs, this educational opportunity is way better than reading a textbook. 201 West Monument St., 410-685-3750

American Visionary Art Museum: The American Visionary Art Museum, located in Federal Hill, is hard to miss. The metallic exterior and bedazzled school bus sculpture parked out front welcome all Baltimore creatives. The museum houses unconventional work, and all of the pieces can be described as visions of spontaneous inspiration. Take advantage of the $6 student tickets, or for groups of 10 or more, try the $5 student package. 800 Key Highway, 410-244-1900

Edgar Allan Poe House: English majors, voracious readers, and aspiring poets: come one, come all to this historic Baltimore landmark. The little house was presumably built in 1830 and is famously the place where Edgar Allan Poe lived with his aunt (and he’s even buried around the corner at Old Westminster Hall). With $6 student tickets, this is a must-see for writerly students and macabre enthusiasts alike. 203 N. Amity St., 410-462-1763

Get Stylish

Madewell: This Inner Harbor style staple is a great place to kickstart your back-to-school wardrobe. With distressed jeans, relaxed tees, and comfy sweaters, Madewell has something for everyone (even men!). And since there’s a 15-percent off discount for students, there’s nothing to stop you from shopping-’til-you-drop. 811 Aliceanna St., 410-244-0378

Banana Republic: Grab this student discount coupon to get 15 percent off your entire purchase at Banana Republic. Whether you’re looking to revamp your business casual wardrobe for fall internships, prepare for job interviews, or stand out at the career fair, Banana Republic has all of the essentials to make you workforce ready. Multiple locations including 201 E. Pratt St., 410-244-1345

Topshop: Looking for a last-minute formal dress or a date-night ‘fit that’ll impress a new crush? Topshop has tons of flirty dresses, silky skirts, and casual tops at prices that won’t break the bank. The best part? Get 10 percent off your student purchase using this code. 700 Fairmount Ave., 410-296-2111

Goodwill Industries of Chesapeake: Goodwill is a great place to shop for theme parties, vintage looks, or to grab that must-have item that no one else can find. And with 30 percent off your purchase for students on Wednesdays, Baltimore Goodwill stores are becoming an essential part of Fall wardrobes. Multiple locations including 715 S Broadway, 410-327-2211

Get Drinking

iBar: This neighborhood hangout, located between Charles Village and Station North, serves up $1 Natty Bohs and Rolling Rocks for college students every Saturday night. Bring your friends, take advantage of the discount, and give thanks for freakin’ weekend. You can also grab a plate of Chef Jeffrey’s or “Cheffrey’s” famous Buffalo wings. 2118 Maryland Ave., 443-759-6147

Luckie’s Tavern: Located in Power Plant Live, Luckie’s Tavern caters to all kinds of rowdy crowds. And every Thursday night is college night, featuring $3 Miller Lite and Coors Light cans, $4 Smirnoff, Jack Daniels, and Captain Morgan cocktails, and $5 Miller and Coors tallboy cans. The patio bar is perfect for big groups, and the space has flat screen TVs to watch the birds play. 34 Market Place, 410-727-5483

HomeSlyce Pizza Bar: This newly-opened Homeslyce location is right next to Johns Hopkins’ Homewood campus. And the bar has everything a college student needs for a great night out. Pair your pitchers with late-night pizza, and use your student I.D. to get varying food and drink deals every Thursday-Sunday night. 3333 N Charles St., 443-315-4046

On Tuesday, June 13, the Baltimore County Public School (BCPS) board voted on a plan to redistrict eight elementary schools in an effort to better integrate and relieve overcrowding on the east side of the county. 

The schools in question—Glenmar, Hawthorne, Martin Boulevard, Middlesex, Orems, Shady Spring, Victory Villa, and Vincent Farm elementary schools—vary in minority population as well as student enrollment with some falling over and under capacity. 

“You don’t really think about segregation in schools in 2017,” said Marisol Johnson, vice chair of the Board of Education for BCPS. “But need to make an effort to integrate them and make them more diverse.”

Based on 2016 student enrollment, four of the eight schools exceeded 115-percent capacity with Shady Spring severely overcrowded at 130-percent capacity.

After four months of planning, seven meetings, and 14 possible scenarios, the community study board for Victory Villa ultimately presented “plan D1” to the board of education for consideration. In this plan, a handful of students from Orems, a school with a low minority population, would be sent to Middlesex, and 25 students from Shady Spring would go to Orems. But after hearing the details of the proposed plan, BCPS board of education member Stephen Virch proposed an amendment to consider before voting.

“This is a very serious matter,” he said. “This spans two districts, and we really have to consider all parts.”

Virch explained that principal Kenneth Dunaway of Shady Spring—a school with high minority population—expressed some concern about the Latino students in his school possibly being split up and transferred to different schools if the district boundary lines are redrawn through the community.

“The principal suggests that whatever the committee does, keep the planning blocks with the Latino students together,” Virch relayed.

School principals couldn’t be reached for comment because they are not speaking with the media, according to BCPS.

The school system’s chief accountability officer Dr. Russell Brown suggests that an objective solution is possible if residents in the districts are willing to compromise. A number of parents of Orems believed that the students from other schools would negatively influence their children, decrease property values, and disrupt the close-knit community for the sake of diversity. Parents at surrounding schools believe the opposition stems from possible minority influx.

Under the new redistricting boundaries, Orems minority population would increase significantly from 28 percent to 40 percent.

“It’s a wonderful opportunity to balance enrollment in the region,” Brown said. “It requires people to change, it requires that people go to different schools.”

In the end, the board voted to keep all current students at Orems Elementary but will move 94 students from Shady Spring to Orems, effective at the start of the 2018-2019 school year. The newly reconstructed and enlarged Victory Villa Elementary set to open in 2018 and will add 409 seats.

According to Johnson, the Perry Hall area is next up for a similar redistricting plan. Perry Hall Middle School will undergo reconstruction next year and the board will be challenged with creating new boundary lines between the newly constructed middle school and Golden Ring Middle.

“I’m interested to see how this one plays out,” Johnson said. “I’m happy with making our schools more diverse—we need to spread the children around.”