"Joe, why would you want to be on the Community Advisory Committee (CAC)?" people asked me, knowing how contentious this assignment would be.
In 1965, around 100,000 Seattle Public School students were housed in 121 buildings. Today around 46,000 students are situated in 99 buildings. In other words, enrollment has decreased nearly 50 percent, yet facility usage has only declined by about 20 percent. Consequently, by consolidating and closing schools, money saved from maintaining bricks and mortar and underutilized staff can now be allocated to enhance services, curriculums and programs. This rationale, along with my belief that pubic school is the foundation for a thriving democracy and the great equalizer for the underprivileged, spurred me to volunteer for one of the 14 CAC positions.
When reflecting upon my CAC stint, my first thought was the awe I felt towards my fellow committee members. These genuinely selfless men and women spent endless hours in meetings, attending town hall sessions, and studying voluminous documents. They also deliberated over the gut wrenching implications our recommendations would have on school communities and, in particular, our special needs, immigrant and low-income populations.
The criteria we were beholden to showed effective instruction, census, and family satisfaction favored the comparably well off schools. Not surprisingly, low-income schools bore the greatest burden of our recommended consolidations and closures.
In fact, urban school closures, a byproduct of the widening social class divide, are occurring throughout the country. Private school patronage by the middle and upper economic classes diverts money, volunteers, resources and social class mixing away from neighborhood public schools. This contributes to the expanding schism between the "haves" and the "have nots." The separation prevents disparate populations the opportunity to understand and learn from each other, and it often results in distrust and tension among these divergent economic classes. Similarly, public school choice, which provides parents alternatives to their neighborhood school, often perpetuates this classism. Even though some parents applaud choice as serving their child's needs, this practice often siphons resources associated with influence and affluence away from underachieving schools.
For example, one Central Area school initially recommended for closure had the neighborhood density and residential mix to produce a socially and economically diverse school. However, some relatively privileged residents opted for private or other public schools that had superior academic scores, bigger annual funds, larger volunteer pools and higher enrollments. As a result, this low density and under performing Central Area school, bereft of the affirmative action of power, knowledge, access and resources inherent in wealth, became susceptible for closure.
Growing up in Syracuse, N.Y., this phenomenon was referred to as "white flight." In the lower grades my neighborhood elementary school was predominately Caucasian, yet when I graduated from high school in 1978 the percentage of black students had reached nearly 50 percent. Back then there was no public school choice and few private schools. So, in an effort to avoid integration many white families moved to the suburbs.
At that time many Caucasians unapologetically stated their desire to attend "white schools" where, as now, people refrain from publicly endorsing racial segregation.
Today's more ethnically diverse middle class has led to neighborhood and school separation based on economics. Nonetheless, whether parents' state they want their "child to attend a white school," as was said in my day, or as well off parents state today "I want my child to go to an academically high-performing school," the result is similar: schools split along class lines.
Busing children away from neighborhood schools to where kids could walk further contributes to the costly practice of choice. Proportionately underprivileged parents have not utilized academic choice compared to well off families due to cultural, financial, language, and access barriers.
Consequently, taxpayers are subsidizing a practice that's not benefiting our low-income students, and with gas prices escalating this system of choice will continue to consume a larger share of the educational budget. Therefore, the elimination of choice and the resulting millions saved in busing costs would enable the school district the funding to better serve our most vulnerable students.
The solution for many of our urban school problems rests with middle and upper class families who, unlike low-income people, have housing options. If these well-to-do families chose economically diverse residential areas as opposed to separate enclaves and attended neighborhood public schools instead of private or choice public schools, then closures would abate with this influx of privileged students.
As for choice, the neighborhood public school would become the preferred option. Furthermore, neighborhood schools would improve with the combined infusion of affluence related resources and the savings in busing costs. The combined integration of social classes in neighborhoods and schools would promote understanding and harmony among economically varied populations.
On the other hand, there was the perspective from an elderly man at one of the CAC's town hall gathering who chastised parents advocating for a wealthier school at the expense of poorer schools. He left this group with the dire warning: if the "have nots" are not educated so they too can achieve, then rest assured they will "get theirs" by any means necessary.
The "choice" is ours.
Want to share a thought or two with Central Area resident Joe Kadushin? Send him an e-mail to the address or e-dress below.
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