Money Overtaken by Surprise

The most gratifying result of the 2012 election has been the defeat of big money at every level. Billionaires could not buy a President in the national election or defeat an international bridge in Michigan. Our faith in the democratic voice has been vindicated.

But more intriguing is the possibility that uncontrollable conditions might have elected our current President, events that no one could have bought or predicted.  We have no way to measure the impact of three men or a hurricane, but their effects are impossible to ignore.

The first surprise was John Roberts who blind-sided the country with his vote to let the Affordable Health Care Act stand. If anyone was betting on the Supreme Court decision, they probably lost a lot of money.  Not only did he vindicate the President’s primary first-term accomplishment, but he changed public sentiment about the law. Polls immediately started to support the law after a year of decline.  Potential voters increasingly said they supported “Obamacare” and President Obama himself decided to own the mocking expression “Obamacare,” defusing much of the criticism from the right.

Two Senatorial candidates managed to alienate most of the female voting public with ill-advised pronouncements about rape and abortion in the late summer.  Richard Mourdock and Todd Akin gave more support to pro-choice candidates than millions of dollars in campaign ads could have yielded.  The public remarks were so outrageous and unanticipated that political operatives on both sides of the issue were shocked into nearly identical denunciations of the Republican candidates’ insensitivity.  Most stunning was the fact that Akins’ public humiliation did not deter Richard Mourdock from duplicating the outrage.  The voters might have forgotten one silly blunder, but the coupled insults to women sent an indelible message.

And, of course the real October surprise was from Hurricane Sandy, which took aim on the most populated area of the country and showed how ill-prepared we were for an ocean surge, even when we were forewarned and forearmed. President Obama and Governor Christie suddenly became partners in the rescue of victims of coastal flooding, and even the opposition candidate had to grudgingly admit that FEMA had performed with swiftness and grace.

The mere presence of FEMA on the northeast coast suddenly highlighted the role the federal government had to play in preserving its citizens. All the bad air about the inefficiency and cost of federal programs suddenly dissipated as citizens could see their tax dollars put to indispensable use.

None of these factors should underestimate the amazing efficiency of the campaign’s get-out- the-vote army.  Republicans and Democrats alike will learn about mobilizing voters from the surprising results on November 6.

But the moguls who thought they could buy this election should reflect on what uncontrollable events can do to change the outcome. Three men and a natural disaster trumped billions in p0litical advertising and deceitful messaging.  You can’t buy what you can’t predict, and a democracy thrives on the unpredictable.

Rush Week

This is the nation’s biggest “Rush Week,” the week before the willing and the gullible are inducted into the voter fraternity.  It is no exaggeration to compare the wooing of the eligible voter to the seasonal Rush on college fraternities and sororities, except this Rush is not selective. It beckons every registered voter to its side of the ballot.

A word of caution about “the Rush.”  During Rush Week, fraternities have a plan to attract the most worthy by closeting the least worthy. Because, despite some of the most elitist policies in a democratic society, fraternities always seem to have a few embarrassing members, the ones they sadly disparage as the “nerds,” the “geeks,” or the “turkeys.”   Traditionally these potential embarrassments get “movie money” to abandon the house during Rush parties, so the recruits never suspect what manner of fraternity brother they will encounter if they join the fraternity. I have no idea if fraternities still stoop to this practice, but I know it is occurring right now in the Republican Presidential Campaign.

While Mitt Romney is gliding to the center of the political spectrum, his Tea Party brothers and sisters have become invisible, or at least inaudible, in the media. They are buttoning their lips while the nominee gives ground to a woman’s right to choose, the need to expand health insurance, the protection of Medicare and Medicaid, the preservation of college loans, and the peace-making role of the U.S. in the Middle East.  If the Party nominee had let these hedged positions slip during the Primary season, he would have been drummed out of the fraternity.

But the “Tea-keys” of the Republican Party have graciously stepped out the back door of the frat house during the Rush.  While their nominee has implied that he will go after tax deductions at the upper level of income, they have stopped their ears and held their tongues.  They know the rules of the Rush: let the Chairman do his job and don’t meddle with success.

In the weeks leading up to the big Rush, a couple of gobblers squawked out of turn in Indiana and Missouri. They apparently did not get the message that conservative discourse had been suspended.  Fortunately the brothers cornered them in the pantry and convinced them to revise and apologize before they drove the recruits screaming from the house with their unauthorized convictions. The Chairman also declared he would have none of their misogynist mutterings.  He didn’t kick them out, but he did give them movie tickets for a month of openings.

After the Rush, the “unmentionables” always return, and the fraternity carries on like nothing happened.  Except the once-invisible members now have the run of the house. They might even be officers in charge of things.  In actual fraternities it hardly matters, because the brothers don’t influence the cost of tuition or the distributing of scholarships.  They just plan parties, organize fund-raisers and promote camaraderie.

Not in the nation’s House.  The faithful of the Tea Party will stalk the halls of Congress, declaring their non-negotiable positions.  They will bully the freshmen and threaten the moderate upper-classmen until the Party line is solid and inviolable.   Their rules will be the House rules.

This is the fraternity that is courting the American voter this Rush week, an affable and welcoming group, whose most dogmatic and recalcitrant members are lurking in the closet, waiting for the Rush to be over.  They are confident of their clout, once their guy is in the White House, and they know nothing has been promised that they can’t circumvent.

The question for us, the prospective pledges, to answer is, Can we live with all the members of this fraternity–even the closeted ones? Are we comfortable with the likes of the Republican Primary candidates, the ones who cried ‘no amnesty’ for all undocumented residents and who denied a woman’s right to choose under any circumstances?  Are we going to join on the basis of a handshake from the smiling Chair of Rush Week?

Ever since “The Revenge of the Nerds” we have learned to respect the outliers, the ones we used to closet. They turned out to be our bosses or our formidable competition.  Likewise no one should underestimate the power of the closeted ones after the 2012 election.

 

He Made Their Day

It’s possible that Clint Eastwood’s performance at the Republican Convention on Thursday night comes closest to what Republicans actually agree on: a depressed economy caused by an abusive President.  While the cranky actor-director did not clearly represent the Republican Platform, he might have been channeling a lot of frustration over the past two years’ of stalemate, enacted by Congress and a highly contentious primary season.

In twenty minutes of sarcasm and mockery, Eastwood exposed the id of the Republican Party, rising above the superego of the Platform, which the actual candidate does not fully subscribe to.  It was inevitable that the signature moment of the speech would be the immortal words: “Go ahead; make my day,” which suggest the best way to solve a problem is to blast it to smithereens.

No one should confuse Eastwood with his Dirty Harry persona, but neither should anyone confuse that persona with a harmless caricature of law enforcement. It is the cherished ideal of one-shot justice, the annihilation of an opponent, that drives much of the fervor of this election.

The words “negotiation” and “compromise” have lost their charm in the Republican Party, beginning with the fateful negotiation between President Obama and Speaker John Boehner over the deficit ceiling. In one weekend, the goal of compromise was demolished and the possibility of governing was blown away.  Nobody fired any shots, but the gun was placed on the table in full view to remind the participants that words would not be settling anything during the year approaching the Presidential election.

A boycott of government is not merely a power play against the ruling party, it is also an aggravation of the boycotting party.  It takes enormous will and stubbornness to do nothing, when the problems of the economy loom larger and larger.  Anger rises not only in the target of the boycott, but in the perpetrator as well.  The anger has been on display in the Primary debates as well as in the Super-Pac ads that manage to offend everybody.

But rather than be aghast at the naked anger unleashed by Clint Eastwood last week, the Republican Party might reflect on what it exposes about this campaign. There are no clear issues to separate the two parties, just resentment over the failure to govern. Certainly the parties disagree, but foremost they disagree about who should govern. At this moment there is no possibility that they will govern together.

The best outcome of this election would be an indecisive one, a division of power that would make both parties realize that no one is going to force their agenda down the others throat.  There should be four more years of learning to live with the opposition. Hopefully those elected would have a new agenda. It is impossible that government would continue to stalemate for four more years, that the voices of boycott would prevail. Legislators would have to go into conference with the goal of agreement. The President would have to confer respectfully with the leaders on the Hill.

And the Republican Party would have to come up with a better slogan than,”Go ahead; make my day.”

Backpacks and “Game-Changers”

Mitt Romney’s school reform agenda rides the pendulum of change, carrying poor and disadvantaged students with it.  His proposal that students be equipped with a “backpack” of federal dollars to carry to the school of their choice shows how students of every new administration are the pawns of bureaucrats, who propose changes to get elected.

In the free market of schools students are movable pieces, representing federal dollars.  Grover Whitehurst, a Romney education adviser, says,

If you connected state funding with federal funding, then you’re talking about a backpack with enough money in it to really empower choice. . . . The idea would be the federal Title I funds would allow states that want to move in this direction to do so, and if they did so, all of a sudden it’s a game changer.

The metaphors of “backpacks” and “games” reveal so much about how politicians approach school reform.  The backpack represents the student as a unit of income for the school. There is no provision for what the student needs in that metaphor. Students with learning challenges need small classes, specialists who decrease the student-to-teacher ratio, programs in the arts and occupations that employ their strengths, professional development for their teachers to develop literacy across the curriculum, and paraprofessionals and volunteers to staff after-school programs.  In other words, schools need more and varied personnel, the single most-expensive budget item for schools, private or public.

In the past federal dollars have often made these programs possible, but in the current era of savage cost-cutting, what will happen to these federal dollars?  Oops, sorry, you’ll have to do more with less next year. But you’ll survive on American ingenuity and hard work.  Schools can do more with smaller backpacks.

Even more heartless is the metaphor of the “game changer.”  If a school principal says a new reading program is a “game-changer,” then we appreciate that some thought has gone into how reading instruction can be improved in her school. When a political adviser says a a voucher program is a “game changer,” we understand that “reform” means changing what has been unsuccessful in the last administration.  Rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

Education has traditionally been a “game” for politicians.  They believe somehow if you change the rules something good will happen.  Test and punish. Eliminate the Department of Education. Dismantle affirmative action. Invent a “race” and make your own rules.  None of this deals directly with the challenges of students lost in school bureaucracy.  But it represents “change” and that’s how candidates get elected: propose a new “game.”

A better metaphor would be to change the professional culture.  While politicians have complained that our schools do not compete with Finland, South Korea and Singapore, no one has suggested that we improve the status and conditions of teaching to emulate the teaching culture in those countries.   Because that would cost something. Linda Darling-Hammond outlines what meaningful change in the teaching profession would look like in The Flat World and Education.

  • universal high-quality teacher education
  • mentoring for all beginners from expert teachers
  • Ongoing professional learning, embedded in 15 to 25 hours per week
  • leadership development that engages expert teachers
  • equitable, competitive salaries  (198)

Most of these reforms would require major budget shifts at every level of government, and they would require more resources.  You don’t change a culture by moving the game pieces around. You invest in the members of that culture.

But since no one wants to hear that we need more resources in a decade of want, we will hear about “game changing.”  Moving students like pieces on the chess board. Moving schools out of neighborhoods. Moving teachers who can’t cut it to the unemployment line.  As they say in real estate, it’s all about “location, location, location.”

So for the next six months we will hear talk about backpacks and games, instead of slow, but relentless cultural reform.  We will hear about the magic of the free market, instead of the common sense of professional development.  We will hear about “change,” meaning moving the game pieces, instead of “reform,” which means investing in individual teachers and students.  We will hear about “races,” which are always predicated on more losers than winners.

These cheerful metaphors of American “can-do” will get someone elected. But they will not change the quality of public education.