As a relative newcomer to the city of Cincinnati, I find the debate here on
city schools contentious and mystifying. Last fall a levy in support of the
Cincinnati Public Schools, failed. This Tuesday, March 7, there are two new
levies on the ballot, number 15 which maintains the current level of funding
without raising taxes, and number 16 which offers to decrease class size and
renovate old school buildings.In an
attempt to understand the story of Cincinnati Public Schools I called Duane
Holm, the Executive Director MARCC (Metropolitan Area Religious Coalition of
Cincinnati). Duane is a long-time veteran of the city school issue. He
referred me to a recent MARCC mailing that diagrams the problem with funding
schools with property tax revenues, as is done in Ohio. Property tax
revenues cannot, by law, grow with the economy, so frequently, as expenses
and the economy expand, public schools must continually ask the voters to
pass new levies. It's a poor relative relationship that is not very
endearing. So that's one problem. As I continued to ask around I heard about
other issues as well, low test scores, poor teachers, a well-intentioned but
ignorant organization known as the Cincinnati Business Committee, and three
decades of white flight to the suburbs. My list of issues just kept growing.
Duane Holm also said something that piqued
my interest, something getting to the heart of the issue. He said, "When it
comes to our public city schools we have a hard time knowing whether to act
as customers or citizens. Customers expect the best quality and excellent
service. Citizens are not customers."
In my mind citizens have both privileges
and responsibilities. As citizens we must consider our personal needs and
those of the greater good, and we must consider them almost equally. I'm
reminded of that old American motto taken from the Kentucky State Seal
"United we stand, divided we fall". Citizens are united. Customers are
divided. In my mind the issue of our Cincinnati public schools is one of
civics.
What kind of citizens are we? What kind of
citizens are we when we vote against Cincinnati Public School levies solely
because they increase our taxes or because we disapprove of their test score
results? Inner-city public schools face tremendous challenges. What kind of
citizens are we when we expect schools to perform miracles without our
money? As citizens we are free to choose, but we also have the
responsibility to deliberate the consequences of our actions for ourselves
and others.
Perhaps the deepest most painful
under-deliberated issue driving the debate over Cincinnati Public Schools,
is that of race and class. Our former Governor, Jack Gilligan, is the person
who first pointed this out to me. I stopped him at a recent MARCC meeting,
and asked him, as a new member of the Cincinnati School Board, what he would
like us to know about Cincinnati Public Schools. He responded
If we plot failing schools across the
country we see that they are mostly in inner city areas. It's a failure
of the central city. It's an issue of race and class. Consider these
statistics, in 1975 there were 90,000 students in Cincinnati Public
Schools. 70% of them were white, and 80% were middle class. Today, there
are 46,000 children in Cincinnati Public Schools. 70% of them are black,
and 85% are poor. We can't expect Cincinnati Public Schools, who are
with children six hours a day, 40 weeks a year, to fix things. The bells
ring and they go out and get an education, but it's not the one we want.
Sometime after this conversation I
realized how naive I had been, how naive many of us have been. This is not
just about test scores or teachers, a new coat of paint or even white
flight. City schools are ground zero for our most entrenched social problems
of race and class, the ones we have carried with us since the founding of
this country.
Last January, The New York Times
Magazine, featured an article entitled "Schools Are Not the Answer". The
byline reads "On the eve of the presidential primaries, education is being
touted as the cure-all for poverty. Why it's not, and never will be." Author
James Traub begins his article
Last fall, the New York State
Education Department released the results of fourth-grade math tests and
eighth-grade math and language tests. It will come as no surprise to
hear that the numbers for students in New York City were dreadful . . .
The results provided fuel for those who felt that New York City schools
are underfinanced, that the city uses too many uncertified teachers,
that academic standards are low, that junior high schools are neglected
and that the tests themselves are unfair. There's some merit in all
these notions. What was not said, however, was the obvious: that the
city districts that performed poorly, like those that performed well,
scored almost exactly as the socioeconomic status of the children in
them would have predicted. You could have predicted the fourth-grade
test scores of all but one of the city's 32 districts merely by knowing
the percentage of students in a given district who qualified for a free
lunch . . . In other words, good schools aren't doing that much good,
and bad schools aren't doing that much harm.
It sounds so eerie to me. Just last week
Cincinnati Public Schools were issued another report card noting their
inadequate standards. Overall, the 12th grade scores are much higher than
the 4th grade scores, which says to me that our Cincinnati public schools
must be doing something right. Yet, as one Cincinnati school teacher said to
me this past week with a grim combination of determination, frustration, and
irony, "We always fail." The report card concludes that our district met 6
of the 27 standards which earns us the rating "academic emergency."
Absent from the report card are other
statistics indicating that Walnut Hills, Clark Montessori, and SCPA (the
schools considered a "success" by Superintendent Adamowski) have the highest
proficiency scores. They also have the lowest percentage of children on free
lunch (8% - 21%), and the lowest percentage of African-American students
(33% - 45%). What was that sentence about predicting proficiency "merely by
knowing the percentage of students in a given district who qualify for a
free lunch?"
This week on the 5 o'clock news I saw an
advocate for anti-tax initiatives bemoaning the poor scores, using them to
support his notion that no reasonable person could support either Cincinnati
public school levy on March 7th. Is it just me, or is anyone else getting
the idea that something enormous and powerful is going on here, something
that is not being named? I've seen the low scores, heard all about them from
pseudo-sincere newscasters and read about them in indignant editorials.
After all the hype, the anger, and the blame, could it really be that we
just need to act like citizens and deliberate the larger issues of race and
class as well as test scores, teacher performance and the aftermath of white
flight?
Last month the speaker at the MARCC Annual
Meeting was Dr. Estus Smith, Executive Vice President of the Kettering
Foundation. Dr. Smith spoke with great eloquence about our national and
local conversation on education. According to Smith, when it comes to
education we discuss and debate (establishing the unhelpful precedent of
winners and losers), occasionally we dialogue, and rarely do we do what is
most helpful, deliberate, that is, take in and weigh all information before
rushing to a position or judgment. Dr. Smith also had two interesting
observations about the debate on education in Cincinnati. (And I use the
word "debate" intentionally. He was very clear that debating never helps,
but that deliberation can help, and what we do in Cincinnati is debate.)
First, he observed that we talk about raising standards for children and
teachers, but never for the community. And second, he observed that we will
have the schools we desire, or we will get the schools we deserve.
So fellow citizens, our Cincinnati public
school children have been rated as failures, in a state of academic
emergency. How well do you and I rate? As a community, what are the standard
we are accountable for achieving? What have we done to help? Bev speaks of
children who witness murders, parents who have no cars and can't get to
parent-teacher conferences. As customers it's none of our business. As
citizens, we are in a state of civic emergency, and whether we live in the
city or suburbs, finding ways to resolve this problem is our responsibility.
Our schools and cities are segregated, sometimes by choice, mostly by
economic circumstances, and history, and oh, do we need one another.
The future of public education in the city
of Cincinnati is of concern to all of us, no matter where we live or work.
This is our shared land, our children, and our future. United we stand,
divided we fall. I asked Mimi Gingold, another member who has worked in
Cincinnati Public Schools for several years, for some of her thoughts. She
wrote
I worked for three years in a wealthy
suburban district where there were hoards of parent volunteers. The
parents were highly educated and I contended that had we teachers not
shown up, the parents could have carried on just fine without us. The
only disservice those parents were doing for their children was that
they were not volunteering their time in an urban school where they
would have been able to do so much more for their own children. They
would have given their kids the demonstration of service beyond the
family which only makes the family richer. They would have helped to
reduce the great divide in America between the rich and poor---a divide
that imperils their children's future.
I applaud Mimi's thoughts, not only for
their civic mindedness, but also for being visionary enough to see that we
are one people, and that those of us who do not live in the city are still
responsible, and can still find ways to serve and help.
Last week I visited Woodward High School
at the other end of the Reading Road corridor, and had the pleasure of
attending Mrs. Baker's freshman English class. When I entered the building,
a police officer stationed at the entrance, directed me to the main office.
Inside the office I studied the grandfather clock that had stopped at 6:10.
I couldn't help but ask myself "Would it function if it were in the new
addition to the Wyoming High School?" I wondered about the huge folder
behind the desk labeled "ASBESTOS". One of Bev's students, Ivory, came to
get me. Ivory was a real gentleman. He held the door open for me at the
hallway entrances.
Inside Bev's classroom there were fourteen
freshmen finishing an exam. Half the window shades had fallen down, but the
room was neat and welcoming. Later, Bev told me that she and Bill had
painted it. Towards the end of the class I talked to students and asked them
their thoughts about Woodward. Here's a sampling of what they said.
"It leaks." (which is true. Later Bev
showed me an adjoining classroom with corroded tiles and a large water stain
on the ceiling) "There are rats." (Now this is not true. Bev told me there
weren't rats, only mice, but she also told me something just as bad. They
have lots of cockroaches). And then there was my favorite comment, "It's
raggedy."
It is raggedy. There were four brand new
Compaq Presario computers in Bev's classroom, but Woodward is undeniably old
and raggedy. It feels very institutional, worn and plain. It's hard to find
a frill anywhere, let alone a window covering. In this way it almost seemed
abandoned
Then there were the kids themselves. I
found them absolutely and completely charming, in all of their wiggly, head
down and sleeping, shy and thoughtful, "Whas up?" demeanors. I looked into
face after face, almost all of them black (and it sounds funny to say that
now, but I've realized you can't honestly talk about Cincinnati Public
Schools without talking about race), and I just saw kids, big kids, little
kids, kids, wonderful, lovable, deserve much from us, kids.
And then there are the teachers. I spoke
to five teachers, three of whom went to Woodward when they were in high
school. I was so impressed by the teachers. They hear their kid's scores are
bad, and that they aren't very good themselves (and there are problems with
Cincinnati Public School teachers, the "Parking Lot to Paycheck" teachers
Bev talked about). But I talked to these teachers, one who had been there
twenty-six year, and remembers when the school was 35% black and the
teachers actually had their own lunch line, and I saw the face of love and
the face of God. These teachers keep showing up. It's raggedy for them too,
and they keep showing up.
Last month I spoke to a First Church
member who has considerable doubts about her decision to send her children
to city schools. She said to me "There are times when I think, why didn't we
go to Sycamore? My kids go to schools that are worn down. They don't have
computers. They don't have guidance counselors when they need them."
I don't know what to say to this except
"Maybe you stayed because you believe in being a citizen, and because you
know that issues of race, class, and even crime, follow us no matter where
we go. Maybe you stayed because you know that good schools aren't that good
and bad schools don't do that much harm. Strong parents, families, churches,
communities, and the first five years of life make all the difference, and
you have been that difference." In his New York Times Magazine
article, James Traub quoted a study that found that schools only affected 5%
- 35% of children's academic performance. The other force, the greater force
has always come from families, neighborhoods, communities, and the first
five years of life.
Now some people would say, "That's it
then. I don't have to vote for a levy." Not so fast. Traub closes his
article by writing
Are we going to take ownership for the
problem? The gulf between the poor and the well-off is much wider than
it used to be, not only financially but also psychically . . . Once it
was the rich who seemed to live on an island of their own; now it's the
poor . . . But here's a thought: maybe our prosperity will continue to
seem hollow as long as so many 3-year-old black girls face such grim
prospects.