Tameka is unsure of how or when her children were removed from enrollment in Atlanta Public Schools. However, when they discovered this in the fall of 2021, it was a traumatic experience.

After over a year of utilizing virtual learning due to the pandemic, students were mandated to return to in-person schooling. Tameka harbored a strong fear of COVID-19 and doubted the school’s ability to protect her children from what she referred to as “the corona.” One day, as a trial, she allowed two of her children to attend school.

The mother’s oldest daughter, who was in seventh grade at the time, and her second youngest child, a boy starting first grade, got on their separate school buses. The mother still needed to enroll her youngest daughter, who was starting kindergarten. Her older son, who has Down syndrome, stayed home because she wasn’t confident he would be able to wear a mask consistently.

The elementary school contacted her after a couple of hours, saying that she needed to pick up her son. They informed her that he was no longer enrolled.

During the midday hours, the secondary school contacted me and requested that I pick up my daughter. They informed me that she does not have a class schedule.

Since their arrival, Tameka’s four children have remained at home.

During the pandemic, numerous students in America disappeared from their classrooms. For those attempting to come back, a significant issue has arisen. The combination of challenging re-enrollment procedures, complicated paperwork, and the daily challenges of poverty, such as not having a working phone, a missing backpack, or a lost car, is hindering many of these children from returning.

Pamela Herd, a professor of public policy at Georgetown University, identifies the issue of missing children and chronic absenteeism as one of the most significant challenges we face. Through her research, she has found that complicated paperwork and procedures often hinder low-income individuals from obtaining necessary health benefits. She expresses surprise at school districts implementing policies that make it challenging for parents to enroll their children.

In order to enroll their children in Atlanta, where Tameka resides, parents are required to provide a minimum of eight documents. This is twice the number of documents required in New York City or Los Angeles. One of the documents, a complex certificate evaluating a child’s dental health, vision, hearing, and nutrition, is mandated by the state. The remaining documents, such as students’ Social Security cards and a notarized affidavit declaring residency, are specific to Atlanta’s enrollment requirements.

Each year, certain schools within the district require existing students to provide proof of residency. This is also necessary for students entering sixth and ninth grades, in order to ensure they are attending schools within their designated neighborhoods or communities. The district also has the authority to ask for proof of continued residency if a student has been absent for an extended period or has a frequent number of tardy arrivals. Failure to provide this proof may result in disenrollment of the student, according to families.

“It’s incredibly difficult,” states Kimberly Dukes, a parent from Atlanta who co-created an organization aimed at assisting families in advocating for their children.

Amid the pandemic, she and her kids were left without a home and had to seek shelter with her sibling. She faced difficulties in proving to her children’s school that they were residing with him. This issue was also experienced by other guardians, as she came to know. In the past year, she believes she aided around 20 to 30 families in successfully enrolling their children back into Atlanta Public Schools.

The school district has responded to claims about the enrollment process. According to Atlanta’s communications director Seth Coleman, when parents notify APS that they are unable to provide updated proof of residence, there are protocols in place to assist them. Coleman also stated that homeless families are not expected to submit any documentation.

Since the onset of COVID in March 2020, Tameka’s children have had limited access to education. While they have maintained a stable living situation, the rest of their lives have been greatly impacted by the pandemic. Due to privacy concerns, the Associated Press is not revealing Tameka’s full name as she, at 33 years old, could face legal consequences or potentially lose custody of her children for not having them enrolled in school.

In May 2020, while the country was being heavily affected by COVID, Tameka’s significant other and father of her children passed away due to a heart attack.

After he passed away, Tameka was both emotionally and financially burdened. She did not complete high school and has held intermittent jobs as a security guard or hotel housecleaner. Tameka also never obtained a driver’s license. However, her significant other worked in construction and owned a car. “As long as he was with me, we never lacked for anything,” she recalls.

Out of nowhere, she found herself responsible for four young kids on her own, relying solely on government financial aid for survival.

In order to contain the spread of the virus, schools were shut down and the children were constantly at home with her. However, remote learning was not effective in capturing their attention. The limited internet connection at home could not accommodate all three children being online at the same time, and their two-bedroom apartment did not provide enough space for them to have a peaceful learning environment.

She was unable to work because she had to supervise them. As a result, her family’s income fell below the average for Black families in Atlanta, which is $28,105. (In comparison, the average annual income for white families within the city is $83,722.)

Tameka was concerned about the potential attention from the state’s child welfare department when her children did not go back to school. She shared that staff came to her home in spring 2021 after the school reported her children’s absence from online classes.

The children were interviewed by the social workers and their home was inspected for any indications of neglect or abuse. The workers promised to return and provide the mother with tools to aid her in parenting, but she claims they never followed through for over two years.

After the children were absent for 10 consecutive days during the autumn, the school district removed them from their roster, citing a state rule. As a result, Tameka had to register them again.

Unexpectedly, Tameka realized the tragic loss of her partner. He had been carrying all of their family’s crucial documents in his backpack when he experienced a heart attack. Tameka recounts that the hospital where he was taken claimed to have passed on the backpack and other belongings to a relative, but it was never recovered.

The backpack held the birth certificates for the kids and herself, as well as Medicaid and Social Security cards. Gradually, she attempted to obtain new copies of the lost documents. Initially, she acquired new birth certificates for the children, which involved a trip to the city center.

After a year of requesting new Medicaid cards, she finally received them for two of her children. She explains that the cards are necessary for taking her children to the doctor to complete health check-ups and receive required immunizations in order to enroll. It is possible that her family’s cards were delayed due to a backlog in Georgia’s Medicaid office, which mistakenly removed thousands of residents from the program.

When she requested a doctor’s appointment in October, the office informed her that the earliest availability for her children would be in December.

She commented, “That’s too late. By then, half of the school year will have passed.”

Additionally, she must provide the school with her personal identification, Social Security cards, a new lease, and a notarized residency affidavit.

She nods in disagreement. “It’s quite a bit.”

Tameka has not received any guidance from the district regarding the enrollment requirements, which are buried within school board documents and may have exceptions.

According to records from the district, social workers from three schools have attempted to contact the family through four emails and 19 phone calls since the start of the pandemic in 2020, when classrooms were closed. The majority of these calls were either unanswered or unsuccessful due to a disconnected phone. Tameka’s response rate to these attempts was low.

In October 2021, the only time Tameka met in person was when she sent her children on the bus, but later found out they were not enrolled. A social worker from the school summarized the meeting by saying, “We talked about the students’ attendance record and how it affects them, as well as any obstacles they may face. The student’s father passed away in May 2020 and the only other obstacle is obtaining uniforms.”

The school will handle the uniforms, according to the social worker. The entry concludes with “Mom received enrollment paperwork.”

The school’s records do not show any additional efforts to reach out to Tameka.

The district spokesperson, Coleman, expressed gratitude for the Student Services Team’s exceptional efforts in assisting this family and their children.

It is not unusual for low-income individuals in America to have inconsistent access to cell phones. Some, like Tameka’s family, may have phones, but when they experience malfunctions or run out of prepaid minutes, they are unable to use their phones for communication.

In certain cities, despite the pandemic, individuals such as social workers, teachers, and administrators physically checked in on families who were unresponsive or had children missing from virtual education. However, in Atlanta, due to COVID-19, the district did not have any face-to-face interactions.

Tameka claims she has not been contacted by any Atlanta schools. She does not currently have a functioning phone or cell plan and has gone for extended periods of time without one in the past three years. An Associated Press journalist has had to physically visit the family to communicate with them.

According to the records from Atlanta Public Schools, there was only one recorded instance of an in-person visit to the family in the spring of 2021. A staff member visited the family’s residence to address concerns about the son with Down syndrome’s low attendance in online classes. However, no one was present at the time and there is no record of any additional attempts.

It is important to note the actions taken by the district to locate and enroll Tameka’s children, particularly her son who has Down syndrome. According to federal regulations, the state and district are mandated to locate, identify, and assess all children with disabilities until they reach the age of 21.

A recent visit was made to Tameka’s home in October by a new social worker from the Georgia Division of Family and Children Services, the same agency that had visited years ago.

The department proposed arranging transportation for Tameka and her children to see the doctor. However, without a scheduled appointment, Tameka didn’t see the purpose.

The social worker offered a useful suggestion: Tameka can register her children with most of the necessary paperwork and then she will have 30 days to get their immunizations. However, the social worker emphasized the need for urgency, as the department may need to intervene for “educational neglect” if she does not act quickly.

To many observers, Tameka’s troubles stem from Atlanta’s rapid gentrification. The city, known for its Black professional class, also boasts the country’s largest wealth disparity between Black and white families.

According to Frank Brown, the appearance of the area may seem positive from the outside, but upon closer inspection, it becomes evident that Black and brown individuals face greater economic challenges compared to those in West Virginia. However, this issue is often ignored and not addressed. Brown is the leader of Communities in Schools of Atlanta, a group that implements programs to prevent students from dropping out of Atlanta Public Schools.

In 2008, the school board in Atlanta implemented several enrollment policies and procedures due to the effects of gentrification and increased construction. These changes were made after an influx of upper-class and predominantly white residents moved into the northern part of the city, resulting in overcrowding in schools in that area. On the other hand, schools in the southern half of the city, where the majority of residents are Black, struggled to fill their available seats.

The board took action against “residency fraud” in order to stop parents who live outside the area from enrolling their children in schools within that community.

Tiffany Fick, director of school quality and advocacy for Equity in Education, a policy organization in Atlanta, explains that the focus was on achieving a fair distribution of students in schools. However, it also addressed issues of race and socioeconomic status.

Communities such as St. Louis, the Massachusetts town of Everett and Tupelo, Mississippi, have adopted similar policies, including tip lines to report neighbors who might be sending their children to schools outside of their enrollment zones.

However, the Atlanta metropolitan region appears to be a center of activity, despite the policies’ impact on students’ education. In January, the adjacent Fulton County removed almost 400 students from one of its high schools after reviewing residency documents following the holiday break.

The regulations were created with the intention of keeping children from going to schools in different neighborhoods. However, Dukes and other supporters argue that the added red tape has also hindered low-income families from accessing their designated schools, particularly in the aftermath of the pandemic which brought about heightened financial strain.

The Associated Press interviewed five more mothers of Atlanta public school students who faced challenges with the re-enrollment procedure. Their children were removed from school due to expired or month-to-month leases, or because they did not have the necessary vaccinations.

Candace, a mother whose child is in seventh grade and has autism, was unable to secure a vaccination appointment for her son when schools initially reopened for in-person learning in the spring of 2021. Due to the high demand for vaccines at that time and her lack of reliable transportation, she was unable to travel to other locations for an appointment. As a result, her son, who was in fourth grade at the time, missed a total of five months of school.

Candace, who requested anonymity from AP, expressed concern about potentially losing custody of her child due to their frequent absences from school. She mentioned that her child was not attending school at the time and that no one seemed to be concerned. With the assistance of Dukes, a parent advocate, she was able to successfully re-enroll her child.

Several parents have faced challenges with enrollment policies and have had trouble convincing schools to accept their residency documentation. Renters in particular are burdened by Atlanta’s policy, as principals can request further proof of residency.

Shawndrea Gay received a notice from her children’s school, situated in a wealthy area, stating that her short-term lease was not adequate. She had two visits from investigators to her small apartment to confirm the residency of her family. “They even checked the contents of our fridge,” she recalls. “It was a serious matter.”

During the summer of 2022, the school removed Gay’s children from enrollment due to the expiration of their lease. Thanks to Dukes’ assistance, Gay was able to re-enroll them before the start of classes.

Tameka has not requested assistance in sending her children back to school. She is hesitant to ask and does not have confidence in the school system, particularly after they contacted the child welfare department. “I prefer to keep my personal matters private,” she states. “I value my privacy.”

Tameka reports that on a regular school day, her four children, ages 14, 12, 9, and 8, tend to sleep in and spend their time indoors watching TV or playing video games. The only child who displays a curiosity for the outside world is her youngest daughter, who has never attended school.

During the week, the girl typically spends her time playing kickball or running outdoors with other children in her low-income neighborhood. However, she must wait until around 3 p.m. for them to return from school.

The young girl is currently expected to be in the second grade, where she would be developing skills in reading longer books, spelling, and basic math operations involving numbers up to 100. However, due to circumstances, she is currently only able to “play school” with her three older siblings. She spends time practicing writing her letters and learning to write her own name. She also goes through pre-kindergarten level counting activities on a mobile device.

However, even at the age of 8, she comprehends that it is not the authentic item.

She expresses her desire to attend school and experience it firsthand.

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The education team at the Associated Press is aided by the Carnegie Corporation of New York. The AP is solely accountable for all of its content.