K-12 education is rife with concepts lacking precise meaning. Middle schools. Magnet schools. Charter schools.
“Alternative,” or “non-traditional,” just tells us what the school is not.
And since “traditional” also evades precision it doesn’t even tell us that.
Many educational innovations are called alternative. The book by Robert D. Barr and William H. Parrett, "How to Create Alternative, Magnet, and Charter Schools That Work," treats magnet and charter schools as alternative.
In one sense, every high school student is a unique blend of experiences, abilities, interests, needs, goals and ways of learning – an “alternative.” That’s a reason for individual education plans, or IEPs, for every student.
College Community and other school districts have proposed doing just that.
But with 1500 students in each of our high schools it would be difficult.
Fortunately, most students survive four years in traditional high schools. Many thrive. They work at their studies and aspire to college. Demonstrate ability in organized athletic, music or other activities. Have supportive homes and friendships. They are the examples we cite as evidence of the quality of our schools.
Unfortunately, there are others who not only don’t thrive, they don’t even survive.
They drop out, either literally or figuratively. Some are among our brightest and most talented. Others are not.
Some are the children of upper socioeconomic parents. Others have no parents, or abusive parents. Some are parents. Some may be the target of school bullies, or simply shunned as loners.
They may never have read Paul Goodman’s "Growing Up Absurd" or Jonathan Kozol’s "Death at an Early Age," but they could tell you the equivalent.
Look past the green spiked hair and pierced body parts. Listen to what these kids have to say. Mixed with the current slang, expletives and teenage nonsense are some very sound suggestions, grounded in experience, for improving American education.
We sometimes confuse learning with deportment. But among our most creative and intellectually accomplished students are at least some of those who are not in their seats. Self-motivated learners bored with the lesson. Those who ask embarrassing questions and organize student protests of irrational rules. The disruptive clowns who enliven the day.
Some students are said to be “at risk.” But it is we who are equally at risk if we continue to ignore what they are telling us with their words and actions.
There is a subset of education’s many “alternatives” that is a sensitive, and successful, response to the opportunity these kids offer. These alternative high schools are what “alternative” means to me.
Cedar Rapids’ Metro High School is one. It’s been recognized twice by the President, and is visited by educators from as far away as Singapore and Latvia. West Liberty is starting one. Clinton is continuing its Lincoln High.
Central to the success of these schools is their equal status with others.
They have their own diplomas. Their own buildings. They needn’t be elaborate. Metro started in an abandoned fire house.
Schools that are more manageable. With fewer students each can have the equivalent of an IEP. Lots of home visits by teachers – for students with homes. Each student is known by name and feels valued. Fewer rigid rules about dress and hair style. Fewer absences. Virtually no violence. Students want to be there.
Many Metro grads go to college. I have one in my law school class.
Our Senior High Alternative Center is in the administrative building. Could any place be worse? SHAC has dedicated, skilled teachers.
But purple hair and purple prose in the attic don’t mix well with executives in suits in the basement.
We lose track of our dropouts. Metros’ teachers scour the malls, parks and bridges looking for theirs. Consequently Metro has ten times the enrollment we have at SHAC.
Our district needs a good alternative high school. It’s a need that increases with time.
Nicholas Johnson is an Iowa City School Board member. More information is available on his Web site www.nicholasjohnson.org.