Classroom warfare
The top guns in state
politics say charter schools will solve the public-education problem. The
teachers' union disagrees.
by Michael Crowley
On the Eve of a potentially bloody political battle on Beacon Hill, a variation
of an old adage looks to be holding true: you can't teach an old union new
tricks.
With the legislature ready to start debating the future of Massachusetts's
fledgling charter-school program, a seemingly unstoppable squad made up of the
heaviest hitters in state politics has lined up on the side of the upstart
schools: Governor William Weld, guv-in-waiting Paul Cellucci, House Speaker
Thomas Finneran (D-Mattapan), Senate President Thomas Birmingham (D-Chelsea),
and state Board of Education chairman John Silber.
But standing in the way is a notoriously immovable force: the Massachusetts
Teachers Association (MTA), one of the mightiest special interests in the
Commonwealth and a defiantly staunch opponent of the state's most fashionable
policy idea of the moment.
What happens will be determined when the two sides collide later this month
--
and perhaps as early as next week -- over a proposal to expand the two-year-old
charter-school experiment born of Massachusetts's sweeping 1993
education-reform law. The stakes are huge: at issue is the identity of the
state's public-school system. And the differences are many. After a tame House
budget debate that put Bay Staters to sleep, the charter-school fight could be
the biggest brawl of the year so far on Beacon Hill.
Partisans in this battle have been left guessing all year where and when
charter-school legislation will appear on the docket, especially after
Finneran's no-nonsense House budget show excluded debate on the issue. Now it
looks like the legislature will take up the question this month, possibly as
part of the Senate budget debate. That would be good news for charter schools,
which are more popular in the Senate than in the House, and would likely result
in a law that gives us more of them soon.
But it's an impressive testament to the power of the MTA that the fate of
charter schools in this legislative session remains uncertain despite their
all-star team of political backers. The 75,000-member union has historically
been one of the state's most powerful Democratic interest groups, providing
influential endorsements, running expensive ad campaigns, raising money, and
even fielding its own candidates. But as the sorry condition of state education
has come into focus in recent years, the MTA's power has waned. Its often
inflexible attitude toward school reform has frequently left its members
looking like knee-jerk defenders of a crusty status quo and their own
interests, or -- as Tom Finneran bluntly called them two years ago -- "selfish
pigs."
But even at a time when old-fashioned party-machine politics are dying away,
the MTA holds enough sway over the legislature that it could still overcome the
collective will of the governor, House Speaker, and Senate president to keep
charter schools in check. The union employs a full-time lobbyist on Beacon Hill
to do just that. Bold opposition is a risky strategy, however. A high-profile
defeat in the charter-school debate would further erode the union's credibility
and influence, leaving it reeking of a stale and discarded past.
"This really has to do with the clout of the MTA on Beacon Hill," says Nick
Paleologos, a former Democratic state representative and a leading backer of
charter schools who chaired the legislature's education committee in the 1980s.
"They're going to pull out all the stops. . . . Their strategy
is to stop charters from expanding, and once they've accomplished that, they'll
squeeze the ones that do exist until they die on the vine."
The specific question at hand is whether to raise the state's current "caps"
on the numbers of charter schools and their students (corresponding to 25 and
.75 percent of statewide public-school enrollment, respectively). A bill filed
by Governor Weld calls for raising the cap to allow for 75 additional schools,
which would increase enrollment from 6500 to 90,000 of the state's 900,000
students.
Charter-school backers -- a group of impassioned think-tankers, legislators,
and activist parents -- argue that charter schools are the last, best hope for
revitalizing a comatose and seemingly unreformable public-school system, and
for providing educational options to parents all too often stuck with
inadequate and unsafe public schools.
Run by private groups with public money, charter schools are free from the
shackles of school-committee oversight and teachers unions. That, their
supporters say, allows for new standards of innovation and efficiency that will
force public schools into a reform-sparking competition for students.
"These schools are designed from the ground up," explains Jim Peyser,
executive director of the Pioneer Institute, a Boston-based think tank that
serves as a headquarters for the movement. "They take a blank piece of paper
and create . . . a theme or culture or a particular approach to
teaching in a way that traditional public schools don't."
Opponents in the education establishment, led by the MTA, make the broad case
that the movement is a foolish attempt to apply free-market ideology to
education, and effectively gives up on the public-school system -- a system
whose union structure and collective-bargaining agreements are the lifeblood of
the MTA.
And so the fight is on. "Our members would have nothing less," says Steve
Wollmer, communications director for the MTA. "We wouldn't be representing
teachers if we didn't defend the resources that let teachers do their jobs."
Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.