Andy delivered a shortened version of the following comments at a PPI launch event for Hill & Jochim’s new book, A Democratic Constitution for Public Education.
Thank you for having me here. I’m thrilled to talk about this great new book, which, incidentally, all of you should go out and buy immediately. I’m a big fan of Ashley’s work at CRPE, and Abby played a crucial role in advancing D.C.’s system of schools during her time as deputy mayor.
Paul’s and David’s contributions over more than two decades have hugely influenced my thinking. I’m honored to be on this panel with them.
There’s so much to like about this book, but I only have ten minutes. So for that reason, and because I’m generally a malcontent, I’m going to focus mostly on the questions and half-concerns I have. But please don’t infer anything other than this: I think Paul and Ashley’s book is terrific.
I’ll focus on three points.
First, the book does an excellent job helping the reader understand the district’s four categories of activities, which need to be disaggregated, repackaged, and reassigned as the district loses its place as the monopoly school provider.
Second, over the last twenty years, American cities have taken two different paths to systemic reform. This book’s recommendations land differently for cities in the different categories.
Third, unlike most books, Paul and Ashley’s could and should have an immediate positive influence in a number of cities.
The book helps us see that when the traditional district is no longer the dominant public education provider, we need to reconsider an array of activities that have long been owned by the district.
What I mean is that the district was public education for a century. It controlled all public schools, and it controlled all aspects of those schools. We assumed that there was a package of tasks that went together and had to be controlled by this central bureaucracy.
School operation: Hiring principals and teachers, choosing curriculum, setting schedules.
Service provision: Helping schools improve through professional development and technical assistance.
Accountability: Monitoring school performance and ensuring interventions for persistent underperformance.
System-wide organization: Making sure that there is a system to the system of schools—a way to provide coherence through an array of services (e.g., common enrollment, transportation, and facilities)
Though they’ve long lived together under the district’s roof, they can be disaggregated. This means that we can have different organizations run schools, support schools, hold schools accountable, and provide the connective tissue for the system. This book—per its allusion to constitutional principles—helps us see that a system of schools can be run through a separation of powers.
But I start to have concerns with how the book repackages these functions. It would have Civic Education Councils (CECs) serve as the accountability arm, the system organizer, a potential provider of fee-based services to schools. We can talk more about this, but I think the system-organization and accountability functions, for example, should be separated. I also think we invite problems when an accountability body provides services to those it oversees.
A bigger concern, however, arises from what I read to be the book’s recommendation that we transition the existing district (central office and board) to the role of dispassionate school assessor and system manager. I admire than motive behind such a notion, but I think that this is impossible in practice. I’m going to come back to the subject in a moment, but for now I’ll say this: I believe strongly in the all-charter model, but I’m convinced we’ll never get there if we rely on fundamental change in the district.
I should note here, though, that if Paul and Ashley intend for the CEC to be a newly created organization—not a reorganization of the existing district and board—then I’m with them. But the book’s frequent use of the term “redesign” led me to believe that the vision is to make this very old dog learn a new batch of tricks.
I’m now going to walk through how I understand the evolution of urban systems of schools so that I can better explain how this book fits into developments over the last twenty-five years. I want to focus on the two very different paths taken by states because the book’s recommendations have different implications for the two.
For about a hundred years, the district had the “exclusive territorial franchise”—the sole right to run (and micromanage all aspects of) all public schools in a geographic area. We can think of this as Version 1.0.
Charter laws ushered in 2.0. They showed that public education could be delivered by entities other than the district. But the first charter law, and many others since, allowed only the district to authorize charters. The key lesson is that in these places, the district remained the conduit for all public education activity. It ran or authorized all public schools.
In the mid-1990s, several states brilliantly ushered in Version 3.0 by creating non-district authorizers. Entities like universities or a new single-purpose chartering board could approve charters. The key is that these states created a new sector of public education outside of districts.
We still have a number of primitive 2.0 cities like Baltimore, Chicago, Denver, and Philadelphia, where all activity must run through the district. I see this book as trying to solve the fundamental mistake these places made—they never created a true non-district sector of public education.
This book’s CECs try to get the district out of school operations, giving that job to others. The board and central office would then be “redesigned” as an authorizer, owner of an enrollment system, portfolio manager, and so on.
In my mind, this would be better than what we have now in 2.0 systems. I’m convinced, however, that it will never work the way we need it to.
In short, leopards don’t change their spots.
Urban districts and their boards were created to be monopoly school providers, and over the course of a century, they developed policies, practices, staffing models, habits, and beliefs to do just that.
General Motors has been making vehicles for a hundred years. We’re fooling ourselves if we think GM can be redesigned into General Electric, a producer of electronics. Similarly the century-old GE can’t be redesigned into General Mills, a manufacturer of various food products.
3.0 cities don’t have this problem. They don’t redesign the district. They create a new system outside of the district.
In fact, they smartly redistribute three of the four functions I talked about earlier, and they do so in a way that I think Paul and Ashley like. But the crucial fourth area—system-wide organization—is where 3.0 systems come up short.
And that’s where this book comes to the rescue.
In my view, we need to replicate the non-district authorizer model found in places like D.C., Boston, and Indianapolis and supplement it with a variation of the CEC.
So function one would be handled via chartering: School operations would be handed off to nonprofits.
With function two (accountability), authorizers would oversee all public schools via performance-based contracts. This would mean putting an authorizer over the district. Each of its schools would have a contract with an authorizer. In this way, the district would be no different from a CMO: a central office running multiple public schools.
To be clear, I would not redesign the district. I’d allow it to be what’s it’s been for its entire lifespan, an operator. This is my clearest divergence with the book. As I understand it, the book’s redesigned district would cease to operate schools, but it would be given all of these other functions in its new form.
I would do the exact opposite. The district would be allowed to keep running schools, but in a competitive, portfolio-managed environment with a range of other operators and schools. The district qua operator would exist only so long as it had high-performing schools; should it be unable to run great schools, the district would cease to be an operator. And since the other functions would be invested in newly created organizations—and not given to the district—today’s district would come to an end.
Function three (service provision), would live in the non-government sector, as it does today with chartering.
As I mentioned, though, what this non-district authorizer model doesn’t yet solve—especially in places like Detroit with multiple non-district authorizers—is system-wide organization. Who handles enrollment, transportation, facilities, and so on?
That’s where the Civic Education Council saves the day. In this new system of schools where power is widely distributed, the CEC would sit above schools, operators, and authorizers, providing coherence, public oversight, and democratic control.
A version of the CEC—one that manages the system, but doesn’t authorize, operate, or provide services—is desperately needed in Detroit right now. It would also seriously and quickly advance reform in D.C. It would contribute mightily in Memphis, Newark, Camden, Cleveland, and elsewhere. And if paired with a non-district authorizer, it would reinvigorate efforts in the most troubled cities, such as Chicago and Philadelphia.
Again, thanks for having me. And an even bigger thanks to Paul and Ashley for their great contribution to the field.
