Ten months ago, my husband deployed to the Middle East, expecting to be gone for six months. That timeline has quickly come and gone. His deployment was extended once in October, and then again just a week before he was supposed to return home in January, this time with no clear return date. While he is responsible for supporting missions overseas with the United States Air Force, I carry the responsibility of holding our home together in Eagle. For military spouses, this balance isn’t temporary or unusual. It’s the reality behind every major decision, including where we live and how we find a high-quality education for our children.

When he received orders to move to Idaho in May of 2020, we had just under two months’ notice. In that short window, we had to find housing in a state we’d never lived in and enroll my stepdaughter in a school that would support her academically and emotionally. By the time our orders were finalized, enrollment windows for many high-performing public charter schools had already closed. We were placed on several waitlists and ultimately enrolled her in the only charter school with open seats in her grade.

Once we settled into our new lives, it became clear that the school wasn’t the right fit. The curriculum and expectations didn’t align with what we knew our child needed to thrive, and we faced a familiar military dilemma: settle for what’s available, or disrupt life again in search of something better. We chose disruption. We moved, again, so our child could attend a stronger public school. That decision came with tradeoffs: higher housing costs, longer commutes, and less time together as a family. When my husband is home, he commutes nearly 100 miles a day to Mountain Home Air Force Base so our child can attend a school that works for her. It’s not the easiest option. It’s the option we chose because in our home education is too important to compromise.

Choosing to live off base is far more common than people realize. Many families assigned to Mountain Home Air Force Base live throughout the Treasure Valley because school quality outweighs convenience and cost. And for families required to live on base, online schools or homeschooling can become the only viable option—not by preference, but to preserve consistency and protect their children from another disruptive transition. When access is limited, families are forced into decisions based on what’s available, not what’s best.

My perspective is shaped by experience. I graduated from a successful International Baccalaureate charter school with a model emphasizing language, rigor, and academic excellence. My public education opened doors for me, even through multiple moves before I ever became part of a military family. I knew I wanted the same continuity for my stepdaughter.

This is not an unusual story among many military spouses and families. Jamie Scearcy, an active-duty Air Force military spouse in Idaho, has relocated her family five times under military orders, including two overseas moves. “Each move means leaving behind teachers, peers, and support systems and adapting quickly to new standards, expectations, and school cultures,” she shared. “It can feel like military children are academically penalized for serving alongside their parents.” For students with additional needs, these disruptions can mean rebuilding essential educational supports from scratch.

Nearly 2,800 children of active-duty service members are growing up near Mountain Home Air Force Base, across the Treasure Valley, and within units connected to Gowen Field. These students bring tremendous value to Gem State classrooms. They carry a global perspective shaped by new environments and diverse communities. They learn resilience early by adapting quickly and finding their footing in unfamiliar places. They develop maturity, grit, and leadership skills because they understand change in a way many children do not. Military-connected children don’t just benefit from strong schools, they actively strengthen them.

Idaho offers strong public schools, but for military families, the issue is rarely quality. It’s access. Enrollment timelines, waitlists, and geography too often decide a child’s educational path before a family ever arrives in the stare.

Military families do not choose where we live. We go where we are sent, often on short notice, and rebuild our lives constantly in service to something larger than ourselves. Our children shoulder that burden with us.

Military children shouldn’t have to sacrifice the quality or continuity of their education because of their parent’s service to our country.

Ashley Cotton-Knaus is a Mountain Home Air Force Base military spouse.