Showing posts with label American Legislative Exchange Council. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Legislative Exchange Council. Show all posts
Monday, April 23, 2012
Big Bucks in Tater Tots: When Public Schools Run with Business Efficiency
TODAY, WE'RE SPEAKING with the superintendent of Enron City Schools in Enron, Texas. As astute readers may already know, Mr. Frick heads up the first public school district in the nation to be turned over entirely to a private company and run according to best business methods and practices. John Galt, our lead reporter, will be asking all the questions.
Mr. Galt: Thank you, sir, for sitting down to talk. It has been said that success here in Enron will show the nation how we can best reform U. S. education.
Frick: I'll do my best to give you a glimpse of a better future.
Galt: Looking back over your first for-profit school year, now almost complete, what changes make you proudest?
Frick: I'd have to say the cost-cutting benefits we brought to schools by following the Apple strategy. You want cheaper iPads, or cheaper education, you have to make choices that benefit consumers.
Galt: Also the bottom line?
Frick: Well, yes...that, too, a mere side effect; but we all know that the real problem in education is unions. So we broke the union here in Enron and just like that, you create a docile workforce and you can reduce wages and benefits and realize huge savings. That's the genius of the Apple model and we want to bring that genius here. Apple is able to employ college graduates and pay as little as $22 dollars per....
Galt: Hour....
Frick: Oh no, per day! Think of the profits...I mean savings for taxpayers. Since teachers are no longer unionized we require them to put in 12-hour days, six days a week and ignore overtime rules, too. It's just like China!
Galt: Speaking of taxpayers, not everyone in Enron is happy with your methods. You're demanding tax breaks and calling on the community to build a new high school with taxpayer dollars; but you operate at a profit and plan to pocket almost all the money you save, not return it to taxpayers. What happens if voters turn down the next building levy?
Frick: You're either for socialized education or you follow the Miami Marlins business model and enjoy the fruits of free enterprise. Our company has made it clear. If voters won't build the new high school here we're prepared to move operations to Madoff, Oklahoma. Or Mexico. Is that what voters want? All those student openings in kindergarten being shifted to a different state or foreign country?
Galt: So, you'd outsource students?
Frick: Let's just say we have our accounting department studying the business metrics.
Galt: Well...what are some of the most dramatic changes you've seen this year?
Frick: I think you might notice a huge decrease in discipline problems. We've been following the Jansen Pharmaceutical Model. You have a child with any kind of behavior issue. You make sure that child is on a prescription for anti-psychotic drugs, like Risperdel.
Galt: Isn't there evidence that some of these powerful drugs have dangerous side effects, that children sometimes die as a result?
Frick: That's a lie pedaled by the liberal media. Jansen keeps only the finest doctors on the company payroll and those doctors produced all kinds of reports to show that all these drugs were perfectly safe. And just because the Arkansas courts recently fined Jansen $1.4 billion dollars for lying, well that was just the work of activist judges.
Galt: On a happier note, it's been said that you're bringing business efficiency into all areas, including school safety.
Frick: Yes, we're proud of several cost-cutting steps we've instituted. We cut back on unnecessary CPR training for teachers, for example, and reduced the maintenance budget.
Galt: What happens if students get asphyxiated because fumes from dangerous chemical compounds you order janitors to use to speed the cleaning process (another idea copied from the Apple playbook) back up inside classrooms? Wouldn't your company face liability issues?
Frick [laughing]: I'm sorry. That struck me funny. We have our friends at the American Legislative Exchange Council working on rewriting safety rules and regulations, too. And our safety director, Thomas Harrah, used to work for Massey Mining Corporation.
Galt: Isn't he the fellow found complicit in the death of 29 miners at the Big Branch Mine in West Virginia? Isn't Massey the corporation that kept two sets of safety records, one for company use, the other, glossing over safety issues, to show "compliance" under the Federal Mine Safety and Health Act?
Frick: You bring business methods to schools, you get business morality in schools.
Galt: Any other innovations you'd like to mention?
Frick: I'm proud to say we've copied First Premier Bank of South Dakota when it comes to student lunch charges. We allow families to open accounts but cap charge limits at $300. They pay $95 to create the account and a $75 annual service fee.
Galt: Big bucks in tater tots?
Frick: Of course. And think about costly school nursing and psychological services! You can't expect free medical care. Are we some kind of socialist country? We've boosted profits significantly by adapting the methods of the Hospital Corporation of America. First, we deny services to children with pre-existing conditions. That saves us a tidy pile of dollars...
Galt: Don't I remember reading that HCA once had to admit to fourteen felonies for defrauding Medicare and pay a fine of $600 million...
Frick: Disgusting rumors, spread by union thugs...they just want to discredit Rick Scott, former head of HCA and now a leader in education reform as governor of Florida...
Galt: I see. I really do. Suppose I told you that voters are unhappy with many of these changes? There's growing pressure on school board members to take action. How would you respond?
Frick: We might follow the lead of the Pearson Corporation. The State of Illinois is paying Pearson $138 million, this year, to administer the state's standardized testing program. So we might say to board members, "We'd like to fly you and your families to a conference in Singapore, where you can stay in luxury motels and discuss education reform...."
Galt: That sounds a little like bribery, to me; but suppose we spend millions on these tests and a testing program doesn't really help raise learning outcomes for the students. Would companies like Pearson be willing to admit their failures? What happens if they put their vested interests in selling more and more testing first?
Frick: Surely, you understand basic economics. If a product is selling well, why would any company want it any other way?
Galt: Wouldn't Pearson have the same vested interests, then, as Phoenix University...the for-profit college which has been sued by federal authorities for graduating students with worthless degrees...
Frick: I'm sorry, It's getting late...
Galt: Yes, of course...Thank you for your time. This session has been highly informative.
Frick: That's what for-profit education is all about. Helping the bottom line while helping people.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
An Education Expert Goes to the Doctor...
IF YOU HAPPEN TO BE A TEACHER you’ve probably noticed something strange about education reformers these days.
You could pile up their combined experience in teaching and add a stack of baloney sandwiches and still not have the equivalent of one thirty-year veteran in a first grade, or middle school science, or high school Latin classroom.
So, whenever we hear Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg or Michelle Rhee or various governors talking about what they would do to fix schools, if they were doing the fixing, it’s like asking me or my father to talk about what we would have done if we had ever been in combat. My father was an officer in the Army Air Corps during World War II; but he did duty as a weatherman and never left the States.
In keeping with family tradition, I enlisted in the Marines in December 1968. After boot camp I wasn’t sent to Vietnam. I was sent to supply school and did my “fighting” behind a desk in California. I was more likely to get sunburned at the beach on weekends or die inhaling “White Out” while correcting typos than to be hit by bullets or step on a booby trap.
It would be the height of arrogance to style myself a “hero.”
Unfortunately, humility never stops the non-combatant types in U. S. education from portraying themselves as Medal of Honor winners. They don’t do any fighting but love to tell the combat veterans what they ought to do to win the war to fix the schools.
Just imagine what might happen if these bold reformers lived in a world that operated on similar principles. It would be a world where no experience was required to qualify an individual as an expert, in education, heart surgery, or airplane maintenance.
First, let’s send Mayor Bloomberg to the doctor. He’s having heart trouble. So he drops in on John Sears, the plumber. John taps his chest a few times with a pipe wrench and says the mayor needs a valve replaced. “We’ll run 1/2 galvanized piping while we’re at it,” Sears explains.
“My god,” replies the billionaire businessman, “do you know anything about heart surgery?”
“As much as you know about teaching,” Sears retorts.
Meanwhile, Michelle Rhee heads for the auto repair shop because her “check engine” light is blinking. She’s driving a Ferrari, purchased with a few of the fat speaker’s fees she earns by talking about fixing schools. She pulls into a McDonald’s and asks the acne-faced young lady at the drive-thru to step outside and consider the problem. The teen rolls her eyes; but when Rhee offers $100 merit pay agrees to do what she can. The teen studies the matter briefly then tells Rhee she needs oil and pours two gallons of used deep fry fat into her gas tank.
“This is going to be great,” Rhee says as she speeds away.
Finally, several governors and members of state legislatures board a 747 bound for Tahiti. A company that runs for-profit charter schools and another company that designs standardized tests are paying all expenses and sending everyone to a conference on education reform and a week’s vacation in that Pacific paradise.
Ohio Governor John Kasich is nervous before he flies and asks about pilot experience. “Don’t worry,” a flight attendant tells him. “U. S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan is at the controls. He hasn’t ever flown a plane before but he has watched planes take off. Besides, he went to Harvard.”
Suddenly, Kasich feels better.
His seatmate, Chris Christie, isn’t quite convinced. The governor of New Jersey is kind of wedged in his seat, anyway. “Uh, who’s the co-pilot, just in case?” he wonders.
“Not to worry, sir,” the attendant smiles reassuringly. “Our co-pilot is Snooki, of Jersey Shore fame.”
“Ah, a solid citizen and a constituent,” Christie replies. He feels better and asks the attendant for an extra bag of peanuts.
Sitting across the aisle, the majority leader of the Wisconsin Senate is hard at work. He’s wearing one of those Cheeseheads, which he thinks might come in handy as a flotation device should the plane go down over water. Obviously, he knows just about as much when it comes to airplanes as all the passengers aboard, combined, know about teaching. But he’s drafting new legislation on his laptop—actually, he’s cutting and pasting language provided by the American Legislative Exchange Council—which will fundamentally alter public education in his state.
“May I ask,” he says, “who did the pre-flight safety check? I hope they knew what they were doing.”
“Only the most knowledgeable mechanics are allowed to work on our planes,” the attendant assures him. “Glenn Beck, who knows everything, signed off on engine maintenance. And that new kid, from Teach for America, checked flight controls.”
“Does the new kid actually know how to do a safety check?” the senator wonders.
“Of course not,” the attendant admits. “But she’s really smart. Besides, what do any of you know about how schools really work? Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll exit before takeoff and go back to my real job. Trust me. You’ll be fine.”
“What do you normally do for a living?” asks Governor Christie. His words sound a little garbled because his mouth is full of half-chewed legumes.
“I’m a special education teacher from Newark, your home state. Twenty-four years in the classroom, if you care, devoted to helping kids with serious problems. Well, gentlemen, have a safe trip. You’re in the same good hands as American education reform today. And if there’s any trouble, don’t worry, there are plenty of parachutes.”
“You might need two,” Kasich says, poking a bit of fun at the chunky chief executive from Jersey. “Who did you say packed those parachutes?” Mr. Kasich asks more seriously.
“We hire out that job to the Vile Anvil Company of Lima, Ohio, sir. Remember? Non-union workers. People earning minimum wage. You gave the owners a huge tax break to bring anvil-making jobs to Ohio and promised they wouldn’t have to worry about a lot of government safety inspections. What can possibly go wrong? You’re in the hands of anvil-making experts.”
The special education teacher smiles knowingly as she gathers personal items and heads back to the boarding gate.
You could pile up their combined experience in teaching and add a stack of baloney sandwiches and still not have the equivalent of one thirty-year veteran in a first grade, or middle school science, or high school Latin classroom.
So, whenever we hear Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg or Michelle Rhee or various governors talking about what they would do to fix schools, if they were doing the fixing, it’s like asking me or my father to talk about what we would have done if we had ever been in combat. My father was an officer in the Army Air Corps during World War II; but he did duty as a weatherman and never left the States.
In keeping with family tradition, I enlisted in the Marines in December 1968. After boot camp I wasn’t sent to Vietnam. I was sent to supply school and did my “fighting” behind a desk in California. I was more likely to get sunburned at the beach on weekends or die inhaling “White Out” while correcting typos than to be hit by bullets or step on a booby trap.
It would be the height of arrogance to style myself a “hero.”
Unfortunately, humility never stops the non-combatant types in U. S. education from portraying themselves as Medal of Honor winners. They don’t do any fighting but love to tell the combat veterans what they ought to do to win the war to fix the schools.
Just imagine what might happen if these bold reformers lived in a world that operated on similar principles. It would be a world where no experience was required to qualify an individual as an expert, in education, heart surgery, or airplane maintenance.
First, let’s send Mayor Bloomberg to the doctor. He’s having heart trouble. So he drops in on John Sears, the plumber. John taps his chest a few times with a pipe wrench and says the mayor needs a valve replaced. “We’ll run 1/2 galvanized piping while we’re at it,” Sears explains.
“My god,” replies the billionaire businessman, “do you know anything about heart surgery?”
“As much as you know about teaching,” Sears retorts.
Meanwhile, Michelle Rhee heads for the auto repair shop because her “check engine” light is blinking. She’s driving a Ferrari, purchased with a few of the fat speaker’s fees she earns by talking about fixing schools. She pulls into a McDonald’s and asks the acne-faced young lady at the drive-thru to step outside and consider the problem. The teen rolls her eyes; but when Rhee offers $100 merit pay agrees to do what she can. The teen studies the matter briefly then tells Rhee she needs oil and pours two gallons of used deep fry fat into her gas tank.
“This is going to be great,” Rhee says as she speeds away.
Finally, several governors and members of state legislatures board a 747 bound for Tahiti. A company that runs for-profit charter schools and another company that designs standardized tests are paying all expenses and sending everyone to a conference on education reform and a week’s vacation in that Pacific paradise.
Ohio Governor John Kasich is nervous before he flies and asks about pilot experience. “Don’t worry,” a flight attendant tells him. “U. S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan is at the controls. He hasn’t ever flown a plane before but he has watched planes take off. Besides, he went to Harvard.”
Suddenly, Kasich feels better.
His seatmate, Chris Christie, isn’t quite convinced. The governor of New Jersey is kind of wedged in his seat, anyway. “Uh, who’s the co-pilot, just in case?” he wonders.
“Not to worry, sir,” the attendant smiles reassuringly. “Our co-pilot is Snooki, of Jersey Shore fame.”
“Ah, a solid citizen and a constituent,” Christie replies. He feels better and asks the attendant for an extra bag of peanuts.
Sitting across the aisle, the majority leader of the Wisconsin Senate is hard at work. He’s wearing one of those Cheeseheads, which he thinks might come in handy as a flotation device should the plane go down over water. Obviously, he knows just about as much when it comes to airplanes as all the passengers aboard, combined, know about teaching. But he’s drafting new legislation on his laptop—actually, he’s cutting and pasting language provided by the American Legislative Exchange Council—which will fundamentally alter public education in his state.
“May I ask,” he says, “who did the pre-flight safety check? I hope they knew what they were doing.”
“Only the most knowledgeable mechanics are allowed to work on our planes,” the attendant assures him. “Glenn Beck, who knows everything, signed off on engine maintenance. And that new kid, from Teach for America, checked flight controls.”
“Does the new kid actually know how to do a safety check?” the senator wonders.
“Of course not,” the attendant admits. “But she’s really smart. Besides, what do any of you know about how schools really work? Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll exit before takeoff and go back to my real job. Trust me. You’ll be fine.”
“What do you normally do for a living?” asks Governor Christie. His words sound a little garbled because his mouth is full of half-chewed legumes.
“I’m a special education teacher from Newark, your home state. Twenty-four years in the classroom, if you care, devoted to helping kids with serious problems. Well, gentlemen, have a safe trip. You’re in the same good hands as American education reform today. And if there’s any trouble, don’t worry, there are plenty of parachutes.”
“You might need two,” Kasich says, poking a bit of fun at the chunky chief executive from Jersey. “Who did you say packed those parachutes?” Mr. Kasich asks more seriously.
“We hire out that job to the Vile Anvil Company of Lima, Ohio, sir. Remember? Non-union workers. People earning minimum wage. You gave the owners a huge tax break to bring anvil-making jobs to Ohio and promised they wouldn’t have to worry about a lot of government safety inspections. What can possibly go wrong? You’re in the hands of anvil-making experts.”
The special education teacher smiles knowingly as she gathers personal items and heads back to the boarding gate.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Forsooth: Shakespeare Doth Explain School Reform!
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| The author speaks in terms we still might grasp. |
I’M A RETIRED TEACHER. Perchance too much idle time doth rest upon my hands.
I’ve been trying to read every Shakespeare play there is. And it doesn’t take long to see the Bard still speaks to us today.
If you haven’t noticed, politicians seem to put forth new plans to fix the public schools almost daily. These plans are stupid, generally, and at least one Republican governor I might name fits this description from England’s beloved poet:
“He hath not so much brain as ear-wax.”
Meanwhile, more and more state lawmakers answer to the beck and call of deep-pocketed, far-right conservatives like Charles and David Koch, and do the bidding of the American Legislative Exchange Council, which the brothers doth graciously fund. As Shakespeare might put it:
“They say if money go before, all ways do lie open.”
Even politicians who slavishly follow the Koch brothers might sound cool if they spoke with the same power as England’s greatest playwright. Imagine, for example, Governor Scott Walker of Wisconsin, saying to teachers of his state:
“Your hearts I’ll stamp out with my horse’s heels
And make a quagmire of your mingled brains.”
WE’VE ALL HEARD A HUNDRED TIMES that business methods and business leaders can bring great improvement to the schools. So, here’s an idea. Why not apply the principles of No Child Left Behind (NCLB) to stores and factories and hedge funds and see what happens?
Here is how it might play out. Starting in 2014 every boss would be responsible for the quality of the work of every worker—just as teachers are now accountable for the work of every student. Businesses would run on the same principles as public schools. First, they would no longer be allowed to ask job-seekers to fill out applications. If a worker entered the factory gate they would have to hire him. It would be up to them to turn him or her into a productive member of society.
Secondly—of course—they couldn’t fire anyone. Public schools like businesses; businesses like public schools.
Imagine a future where government woulds’t measure how every company fareth and requireth each company to increaseth yearly production. Productivity woulds’t be measured according to work done by thy employees of all different racial categories and sub groups and failure by any group woulds’t be proof of failure by thy business as a whole, just as schools are judged presently. Here’s how the Bard might tell the tale:
Much Ado About School Reform: Act 1, Scene 1:
Falstaff, a fat government agent, visits Koch Industries and delivers bad news to the billionaire brothers.
CHARLES KOCH: Hast thou no feeling? What must we do with that girl, Juliet? She doth take drugs all the livelong day, in sooth on Mondays and Fridays most oft. Yesterday didst she driveth yon forklift over yon supervisor’s left foot.
FALSTAFF: Subtle be thy words, sublime thy excuse. We of thy government stand unmoved.
DAVID KOCH: Marry thee, I can’t get that fellow, Claudio, to show up at all. By my troth he hath called in sick 49 times this year! Under No Worker Left Behind, you won’t let me dispossess him of robust employ!!
FALSTAFF: Oh sighs! Oh groans! If you had but created a more stimulating environment employees might have been motivated to come to work.
CHARLES: Idle knave! I beseech thee to be realistic. What about that Hamlet fellow? His criminal record is long and deep in breadth. Last week the shift manager tried to tell him to get busy and he didst punch him and cracketh his jaw.
Can’t we fire him, at least?
FALSTAFF: Verily, he’s covered under the Workers with Severe Emotional Disabilities Act. Thou art the boss and if the bees doth not gather nectar, and thy factory isn’t functioning to capacity, if any worker doth not produce, who doth thou think we ought to blame?
DAVID: Hamlet?
FALSTAFF: ‘Tis absurd of you to sayeth!
DAVID: I asketh but a fillip of understanding. What say thee of that poor homeless varlet who wandered in off the street but yesterday? Doubt not, he be touched in the head, betimes. We tried to tell him how to run the stamping machine and he started talking to some imaginary co-worker, or, perchance, the Ghost of Christmas Past!
FALSTAFF: Thou doth confuse thy famous English authors! Dost thou not know what the law requires? Every worker must be productive by 2014.
CHARLES: Some workers are but lazy sots. You make us take all and we can fire none. How doth you expect us to get that girl, Cressida, to do anything? I but turn my but minutes and she doth disappear and we find her on yon factory roof an hour hence, sound asleepeth.
FALSTAFF: I care not for thine hollow wordlings! Thou art the motivator. It ‘ist thy job to turn that worker round.
DAVID: Sometimes it seemeth the law is setting bosses up for failure. Six months past we had to take on that Moor, Othello, darkly doth he look, a man who speakest not a speck of English. We try to tell him what he needs must do; but he utters only grimmest mutters.
FALSTAFF: A creative boss findeth creative solutions. A creative boss knoweth even a second language is no barrier. A creative boss seeth it as a challenge. I’m sorry. We’re going to have to let both of you go.
CHARLES: You whoreson cur!
DAVID: I will beat thee into handsomeness. Your guts are made of puddings!
Exit Falstaff Flying.
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