Monday, April 22, 2013

Whom Do Our Schools Serve?


In previous posts, I have argued that our educational establishment – and the public at large – have lost sight of why we have schools.  It seems strange to ask the question, “Why should we have public schools?” 

But only because most of us take the answer for granted. 

In truth, the “why” of public education is rarely discussed - or even considered – where you’d most think it would be.  In three years of graduate study at UVA’s Curry School, I don’t recall one serious investigation of why Americans devote so many resources – trillions of dollars; endless political wrangling; court-clogging litigation; and the lives and careers of millions of smart, dedicated, underpaid professionals – to this enterprise we call public education. 

I'm pretty sure we talked about why Americans decided to get into the business of public education in the first place - but that was in a class called “History of Education”.  And it’s pretty clear that earlier generations of Americans established schools for solid reasons.

If we think about it at all, most of us assume that those reasons still exist. 

We’re just not too clear about what they were.

Our politicians aren't much help.  Time and time again, you'll hear a political type declare, “I believe in our public schools.”

Public education has become an article of our civic faith - but, like many articles of faith, it doesn’t bear up very well under scrutiny.

It's just a whole lot easier to believe - or pretend to believe - than to doubt.  So we all say we believe.

But this lack of a clearly-defined public purpose creates a kind of policy vacuum, and into that vacuum, much mischief has spread.  Since it’s hard to enunciate a public purpose for the schools, a lot of private interests have crept in - and we will play the devil getting them out again.

Probably the most pernicious private interests are those of parents. 

Motivated by their understandable concern for their own children, most parents think our schools exist to cooperate with them.  This shows up in all sorts of silly ways – such as the eternal controversy over closing schools for inclement weather.  Many parents expect schools to function as a free babysitting service - which is hardly their purpose.

But parental entitlement also shows up in more vital contexts.  Some parents want the schools to teach the curriculum they prefer.  Others insist that their children selected for the gifted program.  Or that the schools offer advanced artistic training they consider appropriate for their offspring.

Many demand that teachers motivate kids who arrive at school without the benefit of the slightest parental example of intellectual curiosity at home.

All of which, in our narcissistic society, is understandable.  But that hardly makes it right.

If our schools exist to serve the interests or preferences of parents, then why must the rest of us – those with no children, or whose children have graduated, or whose children are not yet of school age, or whose choice is to home-school or to educate their children privately -  pay taxes to support them? 

For that matter, why are non-parents allowed to vote for members of the school board?

Logically and legally, our schools exist for some greater purpose than to serve parents. 

But, for all the teacher unions suggest it, our schools don't exist to provide jobs for teachers. 

Nor do they exist to provide opportunities for the self-aggrandizement of career-building superintendents.

Nor do schools exist to prepare students for jobs in the private sector – something which, in better times, the private sector understood.

Indeed, though it's a tougher case to make, our schools don't even exist for the sake of the students themselves.

Schools – public, tax-supported, schools – exist for the benefit of the nation.  They exist, above every other purpose, to produce thoughtful, informed, self-sufficient, contributing citizens for a future America many of us won't live to see.

In seven words:  Public schools exist to produce good citizens. 

It's that simple.

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