Friday was Selection Day, when MNPS announced the results of the school “choice” lottery. This year, MNPS ran a campaign for school “choice” and cheerfully posted on the MNPS website that more families than ever participated in the selection process- due in large part to the fact that for the first time, all eighth graders were required to submit applications for high school. On Friday, I watched as friends both joyfully and sadly posted on Facebook about their results. Some celebrated getting into the most coveted academic magnet schools that serve only 3% of students. Others lamented their results and fretted about their options. Some vowed to leave the system (why wouldn’t they, having been deemed lottery “losers”- and why do we call it a “lottery” anyway?), while others expressed guilt about their children’s selection for the “best” schools and having to leave all of their children’s friends behind. One fourth grader spent days crying because she was not selected for what she labeled a “high quality” school, which she seemingly believed she was promised if she worked hard and succeeded on standardized tests. Another friend considered pulling her child from a lovely neighborhood school in an affluent area of town that is yearly beset by walk-away families seeking private school options; her daughter has trouble making long-term friends because the school population is constantly in flux. Some parents seemed terrified of neighborhood schools they’d never even visited. One mother in my neighborhood (zoned for the same school my own daughter attends) leaves her house at 6:30 am and does not return until nearly 7 pm so that her child can attend an academic magnet school. Her child has time only for homework after school and can’t even fit in any enrichment activities. Then yesterday, on Saturday, we learned that the automated lottery system had failed this year. Some children were mistakenly admitted to more than one “choice” school, which caused a domino effect for many other children lined up for “choice” options. There is a possibility that the lottery will be redone, which set off a new round of angst from parents worried that their children will lose their spots in the “best” schools. There are those who argue that all of this chaos is necessary to ensure that students are not trapped in “failing schools” by their own zip codes. And there is some truth to this because “choice” can be used to increase diversity in schools, which is proven to positively impact test scores. But school “choice,” rather than benefitting the poorest families, is increasingly being used by more engaged or affluent families to pull their children from struggling and often segregated neighborhood schools that serve larger populations of challenging and impoverished students, particularly at the middle and high school levels. At a recent board meeting, I learned that our “choice” schools are uniformly less diverse (racially, socioeconomically, and otherwise), which lends credence to the argument that school “choice” is creating a tiered educational system that serves some children well and leaves many others behind. Also, “choice” is not providing better results for most children, as evidenced by what has happened in New Orleans, an all-choice system with disastrous results. It appears that the district has begun to market “choice” as a reaction to “reform” advocates, who have created a competitive “marketplace” for schools, students and teachers. Everyone is under immense pressure to compete, and there’s good reason for this. If district schools slip, the state can take them over and hand them to charter school operators. If charter schools slip, they close. Consequently, everyone feels the need to compete for the “best” students in order to get the “best” test scores. Now district schools must spend tax dollars and energy on “marketing” and recruiting, just like their charter counterparts. Does anyone see anything wrong with all of this? The underlying problem is that viewing “choice” as the solution assumes a level playing field. There will always be families that are better equipped to navigate the confusing lottery system. (I’ve had three different lawyers call me this year for help with the lottery application process, which I don’t really understand myself!) There will always be families with more time and resources to drive their children across town the best schools. And then there is the glaring problem of test score bias driven by socioeconomics; research tells us that more affluent children will always perform better on standardized tests, which better qualifies them for academic magnet spots and makes them more desirable as recruits. I am certainly sympathetic to parents who feel they must participate in the lottery. Many of my friends have selected choice options, and many are very happy with their selections. The system is set up to reward this, and all of us want the very best for our own children. But we are invited to compete and advocate only for our own children, which is deeply problematic. In fact, last year we applied for a lottery spot for my fourth-grader. I was encouraged not to rule out any options (and even have a family member who teaches in one of the most desirable magnets), so despite some reservations, we applied. But by the time the lottery rolled around, I found myself worrying not that my daughter would fail to get into a magnet, but that she would actually be selected! Luckily, we did not have to face a “choice,” and my daughter ended up in our neighborhood school with most of her friends. This year, we didn’t bother with the lottery. Whatever happened to the ideal of neighbors helping neighbors, of stable pathways through high school, of children walking or riding their bikes a few blocks to schools without having to fill out a lottery application, and of friends staying with friends throughout different grade levels? What has happened to the sense of community that a strong neighborhood school can build? Some may consider these ideas antiquated or too idealistic in a large and growing city like Nashville, but I refuse to believe that we must embrace a shopping mall-like experience to ensure a good education for our own children. Some may think I am focused only on better neighborhoods, but this is not the case. Strong communities and community schools benefit all. Perhaps we should stop all the madness and take a step back to consider where we are. With around 80 different options in a system of around 150 schools, no one can argue that families have no “choice,” and while some “choice “ may help some families, how much is too much? When do we draw the line to avoid creating system of “good” and “bad” schools that cater to different classes and races of students? Are we creating a system of “winners” and “losers” that encourages the “losers” to leave for greener pastures? And most of all, do we really care about ALL children, or are we all just out for ourselves? No more chaos. We need community.
Posted on: Sun, 11 Jan 2015 20:55:09 +0000