Massachusetts’ charter school proponents are disappointed. Voters in our state handily rejected Question Two, which would have expanded our charter sector. Having worked for six years at one of the state’s high-performing charters, I voted “Yes” on election day. Heck, I even canvassed door-to-door in my neighborhood in Boston to get out the vote. But the “No” campaign made a lot of compelling points.
Charter supporters can learn from them. Our camp tends to talk past its critics. Charter detractors posit criticisms based in equity and justice. We respond with test scores and college graduation rates. Let’s take this opportunity to hear our critics. We lost the vote. Let’s not lose the chance to learn from it.
For each of the critiques the “No” campaign levied at charters, we had a rejoinder ready. Now that the fight’s over, we have an opportunity to respond with action instead of words. Let’s think critically about what was valid about each criticism – and let’s use it to make our schools even better.
The “No” campaign’s TV ads sounded one alarm with particular urgency: Charters drain funds from neighborhood schools. I shouted at my TV that the big districts needed to right-size anyway, that our state provides funding to smooth attrition to charters, and that Boston doesn’t even have neighborhood schools. But even if I weren’t alone on my couch, no one was listening to my knee-jerk response.
Charter operators need to show that we don’t dream of a New Orleans of the Northeast, where almost all schools are charters. The Massachusetts Charter Public School Association should demonstrate its good faith by outlining a building-sharing agreement that would allow shrinking districts to generate supplemental income by renting to charters. Even if we know that proposal will be rejected out of hand, we should extend the olive branch.
The “No” campaign argued that charters “cream” easier-to-educate students from districts. Our knee-jerk comeback was to point out that even when you account for selection bias, Boston charter students learn buckets more math and reading than their district peers.
Instead of continuing to cite CREDO, let’s spend our energy reaching out to communities we’ve failed to serve in adequate proportion. In advance of this year’s admissions lotteries, we should distribute as many applications in Spanish, Kreyol, Mandarin, Vietnamese, Portuguese, and Criolu as possible. We should meet with every interested parent of a student with special needs and work together to envision how we’d support his child.
John Oliver got the “No” campaign roaring with his segment arguing that charter oversight is woefully inadequate. “Not here,” came the knee-jerk retort from Bay State charter advocates, “This isn’t Nevada!”
Instead of detailing the state’s approval and review processes for the thousandth time, let’s take a hard look in the mirror. One consequence of light-touch regulation is that we wear too many hats. Nearly every charter employee I know has at some point taken on a task for which they felt underqualified. And most can point to a time where a logistical or safety issue arose as a result. Our district friends are better at operations than we are. We should be studying them – and working to set up shared services as we have with bussing in Boston.
The “No” campaign labeled charters racist. It cited calls by the NAACP and the Movement for Black Lives for a moratorium on charter growth. Our knee-jerk reaction to that one? Hurt feelings. I get it. Many of us got into this work with explicitly anti-racist motivations. It hurts to hear those questioned.
We need to get over it. Just as we do when it comes to test scores, let’s hold ourselves responsible for our impact, not our intentions. Pointing out that our charters are, on balance, less racist than the status quo is hardly the kind of inspiring rhetoric that wins referenda. Instead, let’s invite expert assessments of the racial climates of our schools, as institutions of higher learning have begun to do.
The “No” campaign highlighted that charter network and school-level leadership is far too white. Our knee-jerk response was to bemoan the state of the “pipeline.”
Instead, networks should build their own: structured, codified ladders to the top that are specifically designated for promising leaders of color. If and when Massachusetts does raise the cap, the state authorizer should run an application incubator for Black- and Latinx-led organizations. Authorizers in other states should build similar programs.
The “No” campaign charged No Excuses schools can feel startlingly punitive. Proponents’ knee-jerk answer was that their learning results are outstanding.
Many of us fail to recognize the seed of truth in that critique because our lived experiences in such schools belies the most extreme characterizations of jail-like environments. But there’s a baby in that bathwater. We know our school communities could be happier places. We need to suspend and expel fewer students. We need to examine what does make our schools feel joyful and expand it exponentially. We can graduate alumni with deeper love of learning without sacrificing scores.
Massachusetts isn’t a bubble. Across the United States, the coalition that supported the rapid growth of charters over the past 15 years is fracturing. In addition to the backing of essentially all conservatives, charter advocates could once count on the support of many white social-justice progressives and a majority of civil rights activists. Those segments are evolving. So should we.