What constitutes “failing” when it comes to a school? How
should failure be judged? And what should happen after a school is determined
to be failing?
Under the best circumstances, those closest to a troubled
school would be aware of the situation and take steps to intervene. The school
administration and the community’s elected education representatives (the
school board) would be on top of the situation. They also would, through
firsthand knowledge, understand whether the school was actually failing or
merely struggling with difficult circumstances. This is a key distinction.
Many schools struggle to educate students coming from
troubled homes, impoverished neighborhoods, and disadvantaged communities.
Often it is an uphill battle made worse by limited resources, outdated
facilities, and other negative factors within the district.
True local control would argue for communities assessing
their schools and seeking assistance when needed, not state education
bureaucrats abstracting from sterile test scores some notion of whether a
community’s schools are succeeding or failing. The current state model is
top-down bureaucracy. But that’s not the worst.
Again, in the best circumstances, if a community were to
assess that one (or more) of its schools was failing to serve students and
parents, it might approach the state for assistance. Responsive—rather than
autocratic—state education leaders might then muster resources to intervene,
providing to the local community the kinds of assistance necessary to reset the
school, literally, to help the school recover a sound educational footing and
move forward. After all, the state has greater resources than many local
communities, and sometimes schools do require positive interventions that are
beyond the scope of local expertise or financial resources. (In truly dire
circumstances even federal intervention can be necessary, such as during the
early years of desegregation.)
Unfortunately “the best circumstances” do not apply to
Indiana’s methods of determining when a school is “failing,” because the
measures of failure are simplistic and suspect. Moreover, when the state “takes
over” it does not muster resources to help restore the school to good
educational health. Instead, the state acts as a broker, essentially giving
the school—accompanied by tax dollars—to a private management company. The
company is not held accountable to the state or the local community in any
meaningful way. And, in most cases, the management company is motivated not by
a drive to educational excellence but by the desire for and expectation of
financial gain.
A case in point is Gary, Indiana’s Theodore Roosevelt Career
and Technical Academy, now called Theodore Roosevelt College and Career Academy
and operated by EdisonLearning Inc. If the name “Edison” sounds familiar, it
should. Back in the 1990s Chris Whittle launched a for-profit education
enterprise called Edison Schools Inc., claiming that his company could run
schools better and for less money than could public school districts—and make
money for his company’s shareholders. It turned out to be a hollow claim.
Edison stock was traded on NASDAQ for four years, reaching a
high of nearly $40 a share in 2001 before the share value plunged to 14¢. In 2002, Whittle was courting Roger Milliken for a possible bailout. Now Whittle
is back with the latest incarnation, EdisonLearning, which has, in essence,
been given Roosevelt to turn around, at least theoretically, and on which to
turn a profit, again theoretically. The track record on either score has not
been impressive.
James K. Glassman, writing in the Wall Street Journal in 2005, commented:
Today, instead of owning 1,000 private schools, Edison merely manages 157 public ones. What happened? Edison had nowhere near the funding to construct such a gigantic enterprise so quickly, and Mr. Whittle and Mr. Schmidt [a partner] lacked management skills and patience. After early setbacks in starting his private schools, Mr. Whittle decided to switch focus entirely and sought management contracts from urban school boards. With no experience dealing with big-city unions and politicians, Edison blundered into disaster after disaster. "Too often," writes Mr. Whittle, "what rules schools is politics, not grades." He should have recognized that fact earlier and stuck to creating his own low-cost schools.
State
takeovers are an iffy proposition at best. They are propelled not by local
desires but by political ideology reified through sterile assessments that
focus on numbers rather than the people who have most at stake—local students,
parents, teachers, administrators, concerned citizens, and elected officials.
What the state does with and to the schools it takes over is equally iffy,
given the questionable choice of companies such as EdisonLearning Inc.
Usurping
local control is egregious in itself. Doing so in order to divert tax dollars
into the hands of private enterprise is illegitimate. And doing so in the name
of improving education is, to put it kindly, disingenuous.