Let me cite a story–fairly typical among my teacher colleagues–to illustrate my reasoning.
A few years ago, a student I’ll call “Jeremy” came to our middle school. He was disruptive and abusive to his peers, and he quickly became known throughout school as a troublemaker.
The following year, in seventh grade, Jeremy was in my class. On the second day, the tall, lanky 12-year-old let loose with a fusillade of profanity at the poor little girl to his right. I immediately threw him out of the room. The next morning I found a scathing letter on my desk from Jeremy’s mother. In it she claimed I’d expelled her son because he “didn’t have a pencil for class.” Obviously, there was a communication problem here. A meeting was set up, the record was straightened out and the year went on more or less uneventfully.
In eighth grade, I heard, Jeremy continued to lie and be disrespectful. A couple of weeks after he graduated from our school, Jeremy’s dad called me at home while I was having lunch. “We want to send Jeremy to a private high school. Could you write a recommendation?” I almost choked on my cucumber.
A recommendation? After all the grief he’d put me and my colleagues through? “He liked you,” the father said quietly. And, in a way, I believed him. Jeremy did eventually settle down a bit in my class. His father probably asked me to write a recommendation because I was the only teacher he had a chance of persuading.
I grudgingly agreed, and a few hours later Jeremy and his parents were on my doorstep. They were on their way to Jeremy’s interview.
“Oh, Mr. Schachter!” the mother cooed. “Thank you so much for writing this letter for Jeremy.” This was from the woman who the year before had wanted my head for daring to discipline her child.
Smiling wanly, I promised, “I’ll do what I can.” Jeremy’s dad handed me the school’s questionnaire, and off they went.
I curled up in my big chair and looked over the categories from which I was to mark Jeremy from “outstanding” to “poor.” “Performance as a student”: I circled fair. “Scholastic ability”–fair. And then I paused. Uh-oh. “Behavior,” “Respect for others” and “Emotional stability.” I looked up and down the form, but, alas, there was no “You’ve got to be kidding” column.
I read on. “Has any punitive action ever been taken against this student?” (I wanted to write, “On a daily basis? Hourly?”) “Does the student have any exceptional abilities?” (“Yes, the ability to infuriate anyone he comes in contact with.”)
The next day I called his prospective school and talked to the principal. I explained that I couldn’t, in all honesty, write a favorable recommendation for this boy. “I understand,” he said. “I just interviewed him and his parents.” Jeremy, he said, showed no interest in the school or its program. His parents, on the other hand, spoke glowingly of his former school. When the principal pointed out the F’s and D’s on his report card, they pooh-poohed the marks. “He’s a late starter,” they said. After 45 minutes, the principal said, he had seen and heard enough. Jeremy was rejected.
I wish we could run our public schools like this. Schools, to me, are sacred and should be treated like places of worship. And teachers should be treated in a similar fashion. I once spent a summer teaching English in China. Every time I entered the classroom, students stood at attention. One child would bring me a cup of tea.
I don’t expect standing ovations or a hot beverage each morning from my students. But it would be nice if teachers were treated with courtesy and respect instead of as doormats.
Students should be prepared for learning every day: they should be well rested, fed and dressed properly. They should leave at home the baseball caps, the gum and the T shirts with obscene messages. And at the end of the year, their teachers will evaluate them. Those who are hardworking and conscientious will be invited to return. The students who are disruptive will be sent to alternative schools.
Will this idea cure all of our nation’s educational ills? No, it will not. There are many other problems. I think we have to do something about the inequities of school funding. I feel overcrowding should be eliminated and crumbling schools replaced.
These are problems that must be tackled. But first we must make sure that education is taken seriously. Letting schools pick their students would be a first step toward that end.
