4 November 27 - December 3, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents much like the co-ops that have been a cru- cial element of homeschooling for years. However, at the time, organizing was passé, and cities with strict social distancing ordi- nances, such as Austin, attempted to regu- late learning pods using city zoning codes and existing school guidelines. Cue former Rep. Larry Taylor, a Republi- can from Friendswood, who drafted a short but mighty bill, the Learning Pod Protec- tions Act, that offered near-impenetrable protections to loosely defined learning pods. Per the law, which soared through both chambers and nearly caught wind as it flew off of the governor’s desk with a signature, a learning pod is any-sized group of children who meet at various times and various places to participate in or enhance learning, sometimes for the exchange of money. To be clear, the law clearly forbids gov- ernment entities from obstructing a learning pod. “A learning pod is exempt from any ordi- nance, rule, regulation, policy, or guideline adopted by a local governmental entity that applies to a school district campus or child- care facility, including any requirements re- garding staff-to-child ratios, staff certification, background checks, physical accommodations, or building or fire codes,” it reads. The law also prohibits any investigations from any government bodies if the body “would not have initiated or conducted the inspection, investigation, or visit if the learn- ing pod did not meet at that location.” Learning pods do not have to be regis- tered in any database, nor do parents have to disclose whether their child is enrolled in one. It would seem that the only require- ment is that the pod meet at varying loca- tions and times, which can be easily achieved through field trips. However, the overarching bill, drafted in the context of a global shutdown, is now be- ing used by Caleidos to circumvent the typi- cal Dallas zoning laws that would otherwise forbid a school from operating out of a resi- dential home. And it’s making quick ene- mies of their neighbors. THE WOMEN OF RAVINIA HEIGHTS The women of Ravinia Heights, a few streets with centennial single-family homes now worth more than they had ever imagined, enjoy the community they have crafted. In their tiny sphere, everyone knows everyone and their dog. They like it that way. They like morning “hellos” to the porchside bird watchers they call neighbors, and the sum- mer night chats over the fences with the scents of grilling hot dogs wafting through the air. So when the house at the end of Al- den Avenue sold in August 2024, they got a fishy feeling. “It’s infuriating,” said Nicole Neises, who lives on a cross street to Alden Avenue. “We have a great community here. We just had a block party for our homes turning 100. All of the neighbors we are friends with came. We’re just that type of neighborhood.” The Caleidos house seemed to remain vacant, or at least, empty at night, but soon a steady stream of cars cycled through in the morning and midday. Eventually, some neighbors would meet the new tenants, Dr. Caroline Lee and Melanie Guerra, the co- founders of Caleidos, neither of whom lived at the property, which was owned by Thani Burke, a Dallas Realtor who also owned an- other home just a few doors down on Alden Avenue. Community building and involvement are important to Caleidos, according to its messaging, but the women of Ravinia Heights disagree. Burke did not respond to interview inquiries. “They gave out welcome packages, little baggies to all the neighbors on Alden, saying, ‘We want to join hands with you as a com- munity.’ Well, you know what?” Neises said. “You would have joined hands with us as a community when you knew your business plan, not the week before your school opened.” Neises and the neighbors who share her concern have lived in Ravinia Heights for years and intend to stay for many more. They are wary of their community being purchased and converted for business devel- opment by an entrepreneurial Realtor, simi- lar to what happened in Bishop Arts or what’s happening in Elmwood. It’s a typical tune for much of Oak Cliff, which is tired af- ter years spent as the gentrification head- quarters of Dallas. “It’s just so exhausting,” said June Askew, who lives a few doors down from Neises. “We have to protest our taxes every year. We have to go to these [City Hall] meetings, sign these petitions, do all this stuff. This is our home. Who are these people? Why do they get to stay?” ZONING IMMUNITY Current zoning laws impose strict mandates for home-based businesses, including size and location requirements, employee and parking restrictions and a number of other regulations that address the general effect on the neighborhood, ranging from odor to noise to traffic. While home-based busi- nesses are certainly possible in the city, they are not easy to maintain in compliance with the city code. Unless, that is, your business is immune from most code enforcement on building use thanks to an all-encompassing bill passed when legislators were still wear- ing masks. The half-dozen women, mostly con- cerned about the fate of their neighborhood, are more than a little bit ticked about people using loopholes while also being curious about the efficacy and legality of such a unique educational format. They say that they have waved every flag they can, hoping Caleidos will at least be suspended, if not shut down. “I’m a rule follower, so right there, I’m al- ready jacked, because it’s just not right,” Askew said. “We can go into the ifs and the whys and the this and the that, but it’s just not right. You’re operating a business in a residential area, and then you add children. There are no regulations. There’s nothing.” Neises said she attempted to report the school to the county fire marshal, but even that was futile in the face of the expansive law, which allows learning pods the rare ex- clusion from building and fire safety codes. A tip to the Department of Health and Hu- man Services proved useless, too, and the tipster was directed to the statewide abuse and neglect hotline within the Department of Family and Protective Services. By now, the women are used to redirection, being re- ferred to a new department or a new law- maker time and time again. Chad West, the City Council member overseeing their district and one of the ear- liest to field complaints from the neighbors, said there’s little that can be done about it locally. “Unfortunately, Chapter 27, Sections 001 and 002 of the State’s Education Code pre- empts the City from investigating or enforc- ing school or child-care facility regulations on learning pods,” West said in a statement provided to the Observer. “Because of these state-level restrictions, we have connected residents with Representative Jessica González’s office to explore potential legis- lative solutions to close this loophole.” While learning pods have numerous workarounds, they are still subject to the city’s standard parking and noise ordi- nances. So far, however, his office has only received one complaint, a parking violation, which was swiftly rectified by the Caleidos team. “[Caleidos isn’t breaking rules] as far as I understand it. The learning pod is an allow- able use under state law, and state law be- comes encoded in this particular situation from the way it has been explained to me by the city attorney,” West added in the state- ment. “With that being said, I’ve continued to tell neighbors that if there is a code viola- tion, we are happy to help with that code vi- olation.” West’s office may not have received an in- flux of official complaints, but according to some, this isn’t the first example of the team behind the learning pod doing less than lov- ing their neighbors. THE NIGHTMARE ON MONTCLAIR AVENUE Caleidos, the passion project of the co- founders, Lee and Guerra, didn’t start on Al- den. It used to be a few miles away, in the backyard of Lee’s historic home on a wind- ing hill in the affluent Kessler neighbor- hood, and operated under the name The Llamitas School, as evidenced by the school’s presence on the Caleidos official In- stagram page. The house lies in the middle of a high-traffic and tight Montclair Avenue, which connects the estates of Dallas’ old millionaire row on Colorado Boulevard di- rectly to the commercial Davis Street. The high-traffic community of Kessler offers higher competition for parking than Ravinia and less peace on the hilly roads that cars race down in short-cut paths. Jessica Patrice Turner The outdoor learning and exploration area at Caleidos in Ravinia Heights. Unfair Park from p3 >> p6
