I’ll never forget my first day in First Grade at Alleman Elementary in Lafayette, Louisiana. Oh, I was a seasoned school veteran! I had been to nursery school and pre-kindergarten, which was an unheard novelty in 1959, and had even graduated with honors from full-blown school: kindergarten! I was ready (and prepared) to take on the World.
My First-Grade Teacher, Miss Blasengame, was a beautiful young woman. Of course, after I settled in to become a “real” student in “real” school, I knew she would quickly fall in love with me just like I did her. Quite often during that year, she told me I was her favorite. At six, I could hear the wedding bells ringing!
School: that was another thing.
School bored me. I thought it was a waste of time. All we did was draw, color, sing silly songs together, and talk about what we did that Summer. It took me a long time to discover that there were essential requirements for being a school student. And I certainly did not like them.
I’ll never forget the first time I had homework: in Kindergarten! How unfair. I was only five years old. I shouldn’t be required to do anything that wasn’t fun in school. Homework? OMG! It was a curse from the pits of Hell. And I refused to do it. (The homework assignment was to bring my favorite picture from Summer vacation to school the next day.)
Thankfully, growing up and enjoying school didn’t take me too long. Of course, I loved the social interaction with my peers and learning about new things. I also viewed math and learning to write and read as games. And I have always been competitive.
I was fortunate throughout my school experience. I made straight A’s through high school, graduated at the top of my class, and went to college on a full scholarship, where I discovered I didn’t like school! At college, I discovered girls and decided they were more important than my education, which I felt I already had.
Our three children were public school students who received really good educations. But that was in the 1980s and 90s. Public schools in the 21st Century have become different. With some exceptions, public education has morphed into something I can’t recognize. Excellence in knowledge is no longer the number one objective. That mandatory objective has morphed into learning social ideology, respect for people, and total acceptance of everyone, along with what everyone “thinks.”
I have come to view the transition from the 20th to the 21st century as the beginning of the failure of the entire U.S. public school system. In a few short years, we buried it. Sadly, the monstrous underbelly of the public education beast continues to refuse to accept its death. It continues to morph into a more and more sinister monster that is devouring our school students. Public schools today have become a united beast consuming billions of dollars while eating the knowledge our teachers faithfully shared with us daily. That knowledge has been replaced by an ideology that cares nothing for truth and understanding. It demands total commitment to the social system of “understanding facts” that are created and distributed by a class of American teachers who have swallowed the Kool-Aid flavored with totalitarianism, though it’s still called “Education.”
Education’s “New” Identity
With the recent release of The Nation’s Report Card, which revealed catastrophic results in math and reading for America’s 4th and 8th graders, it’s fair to say that America’s schools are largely failing at their most basic mission. And now that the Trump administration has announced a 50 percent reduction in force at the Department of Education and taken explicit action in an executive order to unwind the cabinet-level agency as a whole, it seems like the perfect time to ask some very basic questions about the current state of school in America.
The mission creep of American schools is undeniable, and if we’re being brutally honest, too many schools have become one-stop social services hubs that also teach a little reading and math on the side. Instead of maintaining a focus on academics, schools are stretched to the breaking point, in part because of federal and state mandates and in part because they have been captured by an ideology that demands that every single student’s need be met before any teaching or learning can occur.
Schools used to be institutions of academic instruction, designed to equip students with the knowledge and skills necessary to become good citizens, prepared to meaningfully participate in a free society. But somewhere along the way, we decided that schools should also become social service hubs that cater to all the needs of students and families and aspire to fix societal problems that extend far beyond education. It seems fair —and even overdue —to seriously ask if it makes sense to continue using the word “school” to describe educational institutions that are also expected (or required!) to provide breakfast, lunch and snack, host immunization clinics, offer wrap-around health services, provide counseling, address declining mental health, disrupt the “school to prison pipeline,” supervise toothbrushing, teach financial literacy and host drag queen story hour.
Putting aside the merits of the services listed for a moment—which vary widely—the question I’m asking is whether or not it’s reasonable or wise to expect a school to do all of these things. And does the answer to that question change in the context of our abysmal student outcomes in the basics? We have more students scoring in the lowest category in math and reading — “below basic” —now than we did thirty years ago; it is not hyperbole to say that we are in a crisis and instead of talking about that, we are arguing over universal school lunch, social emotional learning curriculum and the need for more counselors in schools.
But kids can’t learn if they’re hungry! That’s not the point. The question is whether or not breakfast and lunch (and snack!) should be provided and distributed every day by the school and funded by the American taxpayer from kindergarten through 12th grade..
Maybe the answer is yes. Maybe it isn’t. But let’s at least talk about it.
The same question applies to the rest of the responsibilities schools have taken on, or had foisted upon them by the powers that be. Should it be a priority for a school district to hire more counselors to address students’ mental health? Should teachers be expected to watch for and identify signs of “trauma?” Is the school the best place for a flu shot clinic? Should school districts sign expensive contracts with “social emotional learning” (SEL) vendors and require teachers to incorporate SEL into the daily schedule? Should a school be hosting drag shows or other events to celebrate Pride Month?
And then there is the disturbing trend of school boards, administrators, and teachers deciding that it’s their job to teach the “correct” perspectives on politics and social issues to the captive audience of students in their care. As school districts spend more time and resources on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, literacy and numeracy outcomes decline. School officials assume the role of moral arbiter with regard to national stories, political candidates, and opinions on hotly contested questions, often with no regard to student agency or the parents’ values. It is not uncommon to see elementary-aged children marching around outside of their school holding signs they made about climate change, Black Lives Matter, and immigration. During Pride Month, rainbows blanket school bulletin boards and hallways. Is any of that appropriate for a publicly funded school?
The consequences of this mission creep are clear. As schools take on more non-academic responsibilities and push specific ideologies on kids, academic achievement suffers and parent resentment grows. Meanwhile, teachers—who entered the profession to teach—find themselves drowning in obligations far afield from their expertise, including the expectation that they behave like activists at work.
And while a huge number of elites have, for some inexplicable reason, decided to glom on to the luxury belief that the traditional role of schooling is “problematic,” Rick Hess of the American Enterprise Institute is right when he says that “ensuring that students are numerate, literate, and academically successful is priority one for schools. It’s their unique responsibility and something they can actually do.”
If schools are not willing or able to do a much better job at fulfilling this unique responsibility, perhaps it’s time we call them something else.
