In a move that perfectly captures the Floridian blend of rebellion, heatstroke, and performative governance, Governor Ron DeSantis has signed into law a bill repealing the statewide mandate that public middle and high schools start no earlier than 8 a.m. and 8:30 a.m., respectively. You heard that right. After years of research, science, and common decency trying to drag adolescent kids out of bed at a time that doesn't qualify as a cruel and unusual punishment, Florida said, “Nah.”
Let’s back up.
Last year, Florida shocked educators by doing something that didn’t involve book bans or making teachers fear for their jobs: the state passed a bill based on actual medical research. It aligned school start times with the circadian rhythms of teenagers—those delightful hormonal humans who are biologically wired to stay up late and sleep in. The idea was that kids would get more sleep, focus better, and possibly be less murderously cranky before homeroom. Shocking, right?
But apparently, letting kids get a few more ZZZs in the morning is just one step too far toward the tyranny of empathy. So now, just a year later, DeSantis has decided Florida must rise up against the oppressive yoke of science and sleep and go back to the halcyon days when teens were ripped from their beds at 5:30 a.m., slammed a Pop-Tart, and zombied their way into algebra class with a Mountain Dew and half-closed eyes.
Because freedom.
“You Can’t Tell Us When to Wake Up… or Sleep In”
The repeal bill—proudly signed by Governor DeSantis with the flair of a man who thinks sunscreen is for communists—essentially gives school districts the power to start classes whenever they damn well please. Midnight geometry, anyone? Why not? It’s Florida.
Local control, say the bill’s supporters, is the name of the game. After all, who better to decide when school starts than the local bus schedulers and county commissioners who definitely read all those sleep studies in JAMA Pediatrics while microwaving their fifth cup of gas station coffee?
DeSantis, no stranger to legislating based on vibes over verified facts, framed the repeal as a move to “restore choice” and “reject one-size-fits-all mandates.” Because if there’s anything high school kids need more of, it’s unpredictability and sleep deprivation. It builds character. And voter resentment.
Sleep Science? More Like Woke Science
In a totally not-predictable twist, the repeal follows a growing trend of conservative pushback against any policy that smells remotely like it came from California, the CDC, or people who own Birkenstocks.
Sleep science, despite being a field grounded in decades of data and observable effects, has now apparently joined the long list of “things we’re mad at this week.” Right up there with drag queens, librarians, and the very idea of a functioning Department of Education.
Medical organizations like the American Academy of Pediatrics have practically begged schools to start later. Their reasoning? Sleep-deprived teens have higher rates of depression, suicide, obesity, and car crashes. You know—minor things. But in Florida’s current legislative mood, that just makes them look like weaklings. What’s a little adolescent narcolepsy compared to the glorious, unbending principle of local control?
Of Course It’s About Buses
Let’s get real: this isn’t about “freedom” or “choice.” It’s about buses. And sports.
Florida’s school districts didn’t like the logistical nightmare that came with staggered start times. High schools couldn’t hog the early morning bus routes. Practices ran later. Parents had to adjust their schedules. And—most horrifying of all—some football games got bumped past 9 p.m.
Never mind that kids’ academic performance went up. Never mind the clear link between sleep and teen mental health. The buses were cranky. The coaches were crankier. And no one wants to reschedule the Friday Night Lights for something as trivial as “neurodevelopment.”
Teenagers: Built to Sleep, Forced to Suffer
If you've ever met a teenager, you know they live in a constant state of barely contained exhaustion. They sleep until noon on weekends. They look personally offended by daylight. Their souls don’t come online until second period—and even then, only partially. Forcing them to learn derivatives before sunrise should be a Geneva Convention violation.
And yet, school districts—now liberated by DeSantis's repeal—are free to shove these poor kids into classrooms before even the coffee shops open. It's a dystopia tailor-made for grumpy bus drivers and boomer nostalgia.
Because if kids aren't suffering, are they even learning?
Moms for Liberty, Dads for Brutal Mornings
No repeal bill in Florida would be complete without a cameo from the parental-rights industrial complex. Enter Moms for Liberty and their eternal crusade against whatever fresh hell public education dares to suggest.
Some parents celebrated the repeal with the same enthusiasm as a Disney boycott. They argued that “kids need structure,” “early mornings build discipline,” and “it was good enough for me in 1983.” Which is just a fancy way of saying, “I suffered, so you must too.”
These are the same folks who believe school is less about education and more about producing compliant, punctual mini-adults who will respect authority, reject nuance, and know how to fill out a timesheet.
They think 7 a.m. bells build grit. But mostly, they just build cortisol.
Let’s Talk Equity—Or Not
Here’s something no one wants to touch with a 10-foot pole: early school start times disproportionately hurt low-income kids and students of color. These students are more likely to rely on public transportation, live in households with irregular work hours, and have limited access to quiet, safe sleep environments. Later start times help level the playing field—just a little.
But who needs equity when you have efficiency? Let the poor kids wake up earlier, ride longer, and arrive sleepier. It’s character development, remember?
Besides, if Florida acknowledged any of this, someone might accuse them of Critical Sleep Theory.
A Victory for Whom?
So who really benefits from this repeal?
Not the kids. Not the teachers, who will now face classrooms full of groggy, twitchy teens barely functioning on four hours of sleep and Hot Cheetos. Not the pediatricians or psychologists or neuroscientists, all of whom are now considering moving to Denmark.
The winners are school districts that don’t want to spend money on more bus drivers or think creatively about scheduling. The winners are politicians who score cheap “freedom” points. And of course, the winners are the pundits who now have one more thing to weaponize in the culture war.
Because in Florida, no policy is too boring to become a battlefield.
Conclusion: “Just Go to Bed Earlier,” Said Every Boomer Ever
If there’s one phrase that defines the national conversation about sleep, it’s this: “Just go to bed earlier.” As if teens are wind-up toys you can simply turn off. As if homework, sports, part-time jobs, family obligations, anxiety, and screen addiction don’t exist.
The idea that teenagers might need help—structural help, not just another condescending pep talk—doesn’t register in this new post-scientific, post-sympathy political age. We could build systems around what we know about biology and learning. We could adapt school schedules to fit kids instead of forcing kids to fit the schedules.
But why do that when you can just repeal things?
In Florida, the sun never sets on freedom. Or starts on time. So grab your Red Bull, kids—first period is back at 7:10 a.m. And if you're tired? Suck it up. It builds grit. Or whatever.