West Virginia: Where All The Kids Really Are Above Average

Over the years, I have read the semi-annual postings of high school honor rolls with interest. Like you, perhaps, I look to see if anyone I know has made the grade. Occasionally, I notice clips about a local student making his or her college dean's list. It's nice to see youngsters doing so well.

But over the years, I have also noticed that the number of students making the honor roll or dean's list has increased far beyond a reasonable level. I define "reasonable" as being between one-in-eight (12.5 percent) and one-in-six (16.7 percent).

Before you criticize my stringency, consider that the education process is a game of skill. There is competition among students as well as competition against the machine — the memorization of empirical knowledge. The element of inter-student competition is critical to the learning process.

To determine a grade, we test the student. It's just like the game show Jeopardy — competition against the encyclopedia as well as between contestants.

As education is a game of skill, you have to look at the grading criteria with an oddsmaker's eye. What are the odds of a student making one A per semester? Then, what are the odds of a student making As in five disparate courses in one semester? The rules apply to Bs, Cs, and so on.

I have reviewed several high school honor roll lists and found that 45 percent to 50 percent of the students are making a 3.0 GPA or better. What are the odds that half the students in a given high school will make a 3.0 GPA?

This is easy to answer. Impossible. Unless you live in a fantasy world.

Years ago, I read about a West Virginia high school that had a dilemma. The school couldn't decide who to make class valedictorian because about a dozen graduating seniors had a perfect 4.0 GPA. I laughed, and I laughed. The school had a dilemma all right — a bunch of teachers and administrators who didn't realize the folly of their handing out easy As.

West Virginia students score poorly when compared to other American students in national tests. United States students are middle-of-the-pack average when compared to international students. Thus, we can imply that an honor roll student in West Virginia would most likely be an average student in Finland or one of the other five top-scoring nations.

Based on statistical analysis, the fact that half the student body makes the honor roll indicates that the curricula have been watered down. Based on anecdotal evidence, we have the examples of foreign exchange students who come here and find that they took all the advanced math and science courses that we offer to juniors and seniors by their sophomore years overseas.

I happen to believe that American kids are as smart as any kids on the planet. The fact that they have lousy test scores is the fault of the grown-ups. From top to bottom in the education hierarchy to home life and parenting, there is plenty of blame to go around. Unfortunately, the kids pay the price.

If you believe what you read in the newspapers, there is a movement afoot in West Virginia to reform the education system. Translation: The landscape will stay the same; turf battles will redistribute the goodies; our Hansels and Gretels will remain lost, just in a different part of the forest.

Before the powers that be reform the system, I would urge that they maintain the status quo. I look at the situation this way: In twenty more years, it is virtually guaranteed that nearly all of our public school teachers will be former high school honor roll graduates.

We're bound to have better schools if we stay the course. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if 80 percent of the student body in 2033 makes the honor roll.

Performance of Public Schools Just Doesn't Add Up

Whenever anyone asks me if 180 days per year in school are enough, I answer by relating my high school experience.  I was required to take American History.  The teacher never got us to World War II.

This sums up my opinion of the public school system, both when I was a prisoner of it and now.  The system is a failure.  I can claim that is a failure because there hasn’t been a definition of a proper education since the one-room schools closed down—the three Rs as it were.

Where did the magical 180 days of classroom instruction come from?  Some folks believe that farm families in the olden days demanded that their children go to school for not more than 180 days because they needed the kids to work the farm in summer.  The 180-day rule has been around so long that other people believe it came from divine guidance.  As in: Noah built the ark, and then it rained for 180 days.

You can teach Algebra in 180 days.  You cannot teach American History in 180 days.  You can teach Civics in 180 days.  You cannot teach American Literature or English Literature in 180 days.  You can teach an introductory course in biology, chemistry or physics in 180 days.  You cannot teach Writing in 180 days. 

Schools have become babysitters.  In addition to providing free day-care, schools provide breakfast and lunch.  Who expects lazy parents to get up an hour early and fix breakfast or pack lunch boxes?

Schools have become sports complexes.  Schools have an obligation to teach physical education and offer daily exercise periods to all students.  But the system has gone way beyond its charge.  The system spends millions of dollars per year to field teams in most sports.  Meanwhile, nearly one-fourth of our students are obese come graduation day.

Schools are inept when it comes to preventing dropouts.  The attitude of school administrators towards dropouts is “so what.”  Administrators don’t want students in school who pull the averages down.  So what if dropouts cost society a fortune later on.

Schools have given up trying to prevent cheating.  Cheating is rampant.  But cheating, via the resulting passing grades, makes school administrators look better in those “No Child Left Behind” reports. 

Schools have given in to grade inflation.  There’s no way that so many students should make the honor roll as they now do.  There’s no way that a school should have several 4.0 GPA graduating seniors all selected as class valedictorians.  Unless, of course, you inject grade inflation into the system. 

When it comes to grade inflation, never forget former Governor Bob Wise and his PROMISE scholarship.  The PROMISE scholarship is a financial entitlement, and West Virginia teachers aren’t going to deny a “C” student that entitlement.  Bob Wise did more to increase the number of “B” students than he’ll ever know.

My heart goes out to mentally challenged students.  But the notion that all children can be mainstreamed in the public schools is a costly fantasy. 

The school system has no clear mission.  Schools are trying to be all things to all people and thus, serve no one well.  If our schools were soup kitchens, the broth would be so thin that it would remind you of Moe, Larry and Curly pouring hot water through a rubber chicken.  Until we define what a student should learn in each year of schooling, then we can’t know whether 180 days of schooling is too much, too little, or just right. 

Given our current assembly of legislators, they will probably fine tune the 180-day rule by mandating that history teachers begin with World War II and then teach American History backwards.  Or in the alternative, they might have teachers skip colonial history altogether and begin with Paul Revere’s ride.

In the past decade, Finland’s public schools have consistently ranked as the best in the world.  Why?  Because Finland has defined a “proper education” for the 21st century, and the schools teach to that standard.

Helsinki is Europe’s snowiest capitol city, averaging 101 snow days each winter.  The difference between Finland and West Virginia is not measured in snow days, however.  The Finns believe that getting an education is their most important endeavor.  As such, their kids will ski to school if they have to. 

In case you were wondering, Finnish students attend school 190 days from mid-August to the end of May.  The school term includes holiday breaks as well as a week-long spring break.

We Needn't Accept Mediocre Education in West Virginia

The foundation stones of our public education system are wobbly bricks, not boulders of substance.  It was designed in such a manner by Count Bismark in order to churn out common denominators to staff the factories (and armies) of the industrial age.  And here we are, a century and a quarter later, still churning out common denominators as if big mills dominate the landscape.

The education bureaucracy has avoided changing this ancient formula that generates common denominators because modern standardized tests have been tweaked to mathematically prove that most students test "above average."  Why should the bureaucrats change the system when they can fudge the test results?  The parents, more than anybody, are happy with the outcomes.

Parents hate to spend their evenings going over homework with their kids when they’d rather watch reality programming on television.  ("My Name Is Earl" can be considered in this genre.)  Parents love the fact that their kids are almost guaranteed to graduate from high school.  Parents are thrilled when their sons and daughters are bestowed with "honor student" bumper stickers.  Parents cherish the PROMISE scholarship for students with grade-inflated B averages.

You’ve read in your local newspaper that one-third or more of high school students are not only on the honor roll, but one-third of that group has a 4.0 average.  You have also read in your local newspaper that high school graduating classes now typically have multiple valedictorians.  Six valedictorians are not uncommon and a dozen or more is no longer rare.

This has gotten out of hand, but there is a solution.

Across the state, we have a cadre of outstanding teachers.  Perhaps the best algebra teacher is in Mason County.  Perhaps the best English literature teacher is in Berkeley County.  And so on.  Why not let these peer-reviewed, outstanding teachers teach every student in West Virginia high schools?  Technology can make it happen.

In this day and age, Mr. Jones could stand before a camera in Point Pleasant at 9 a.m. and broadcast his algebra class to every high school in West Virginia.  Ms. Smith could then go on at 10 a.m. to broadcast her views on "Great Expectations" from Martinsburg.  Every hour, your sons and daughters would receive instruction from the best teachers available.  This method of teaching would outshine even that of the most exclusive prep schools.

For my great expectation to work, barriers would have to be demolished.  First and foremost, the teachers' unions would have to admit that most teachers are mediocre and then convince mediocre teachers that they would be better off as highly-paid classroom monitors and teachers' aides.

The second, and even more difficult task, would be getting the parents on board.  Parents understand that Ms. Smith would have great expectations of her students when they took the exam on "Great Expectations."  No longer would a last-minute read of "Cliffs Notes" on the internet suffice for an A or B grade.  Little Johnny might not be so learnéd in Ms. Smith’s class!

When one out of eight (12%) high school students make the honor roll, then you know that the system is doing its job of not only raising standards but also of weeding out the students who are not college material.  When one out of three students make the honor roll, then you can appreciate why colleges and universities struggle to graduate half or fewer of their matriculating classes.

There is one other aspect to my high-tech classroom of the air that merits consideration.  If done right, snow days would be a thing of the past.  Broadband can bring the classroom of the air to every house via satellite, DSL, or cable.  And don’t tell me that there are households that cannot afford broadband.  For decades, the satellite dish has been known as West Virginia’s state tree.

An education is not something you should ever sell out for.  When you do earn an "A", your first question should be "Why wasn’t the class harder?"  Yet under our education system, we have embraced low expectations and rewarded ourselves handsomely with Ozian certificates for successfully guessing answers from multiple-choice lists.

The day is coming when China, Japan, and India challenge our position as world leader.  Asian parents have long understood that their children’s education is the way to success.  Unlike Americans, they could care less about bumper stickers.

We have given government a monopoly on public education.  That doesn’t mean we should accept mediocrity and an archaic system of teaching.

What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate

If you’ve read your local newspaper lately, then you are aware that the Budget Digest is out in print. The Budget Digest is a popular way for a select group of legislators to micromanage every department of government. Because the Budget Digest recommends a spending plan to the Executive branch rather than direct it, the Digest is able to skirt the constitution’s budgeting and spending requirements.

Although the Digest is the most unrestrained form of government spending that we have, none of the line items are particularly large when compared to line items in the state budget. In fact, most Digest grants seem trivial, ranging from $500 to $10,000. But as long as checks are written, the money has to be accounted for.

In the July 1 edition of The Exponent Telegram, staff writer Jennifer Biller reports on Budget Digest allocations for Harrison County schools. Here is an excerpt:

"Robert C. Byrd High was awarded $10,000 in Budget Digest funds. But it’s unclear how the funds will be used. Neither [Harrison County Schools Superintendent] Friebel nor Principal Leon Pilewski requested the money and are not aware of who did."

This transaction defines micromanagement better than Webster’s.
mic-ro-man-age: verb, to control or direct every aspect or detail of a situation

The school system has extensive management. From the State School Superintendent at the top and all of the way down to each school’s Principal, there exists a sophisticated management structure. The professional administrators that we pay to run the system also receive extensive public input.

The parents and teachers who form each school’s PTO are invaluable. Their wisdom comes from being in the trenches. The publicly-elected county Board of Education was conceived to balance the taxpayer’s interests with the school system’s wish list, and while these Boards have lost much of their original authority, their oversight is still important for the community as a whole.

With this structure in place, you would think that the entire budgeting system for public schools would start at the Principals’ offices rather than in a committee room in the capitol building. Unfortunately, the Budget Digest tells us different story. Although the Digest is just an asterisk to the budget bill, that asterisk looms large and highlights who really makes spending decisions, both large and small.

There is a great story that gives credence to the notion of running public education from the bottom up rather than from the top down. Homer Hickam tells it in Rocket Boys, his best-selling book about growing up in Coalwood.

In case you haven’t read Rocket Boys, here’s a synopsis. Homer and his friends-Sherman, O'Dell, Sonny, Quentin, and Roy Lee-started building model rockets. They kept improving with each model. But then the team, known as the Big Creek Missile Agency, came to the point where they could progress no further. The rocket boys needed to learn calculus, a course not offered at Big Creek High.

Because a teacher, Miss Riley, and her principal lobbied on their behalf, the calculus course was taught. The rockets got better and flew higher once the boys learned this new kind of math. And in the end, Homer took their model rocket to the 1960 National Science Fair where it was awarded the top prize.

When you read the Budget Digest to learn if its largesse benefits your school, I hope you will remember the rocket boys. Then ask yourself how the Miss Rileys of today can inspire and teach the next generation of rocket boys when even the most trivial of spending decisions are made behind closed doors in Charleston. Just who would Miss Riley lobby to request a calculus class if she were teaching in today’s environment? Apparently not her principal or county superintendent.

The legislature should concern itself with solving big problems like paying off the $5 billion pension debt. The debt is, after all, the cumulative result of past legislatures trying to micromanage the state.