Today’s lesson: Give us a
definition for “children at risk”

© David Chartrand, 2007

    When school boards and legislatures debate “at risk” programs, I never know if they’re talking about children or money.

   Neither is safe in states like Kansas, where no one is sure what it means for a student to be, quote unquote, at risk. If “risk” means the chances of something bad happening, then we’re all in harm’s way as educators and politicians play word games with the question, “At risk for (fill in the blank)?”

   Most states provide at-risk monies to schools based on the number of local low-income families. Until recently, however, few public officials were willing to question hallowed notions about the relationship between family income and ability to learn. Until recently, however, no one saw any money in it.

   But money is always the issue when school boards and legislators get together to whine about No Child Left Behind, the federal law that threatens to penalize schools whose students do poorly on standardized tests. It was only a matter of time before someone demanded that “at risk” money be linked directly to test scores.

   In a move that brazenly stands NCLB on its head, the Kansas Legislature recently passed a bill that provides extra $10 million in “at risk” funds to schools that don’t measure up, NCLB-wise. In other words, low test scores will be punished by the federal government or rewarded by the state, depending on how you look at it.

   The way Kansas lawmakers look at it, the money was a one-year concession for the state’s affluent communities, which have plenty of kids struggling in math and reading but few without lunch money. It turns out the blue-ribbon schools of suburbia are now willing to argue — or concede — that even the good life has its risks. Assuming, of course, that risk means “the danger of your kid’s school being publicly humiliated in the newspaper.”

   Kansas has done us a favor. If this idea catches on, get ready for the poopy to hit the paddle in a state capital near you. It will force into the open a question that should have been asked long ago. Or maybe it was asked and no one was listening.

   Do schools exist to enable and empower children, or just graduate them?

   Wedding “at risk” funding to test scores would encourage the worst tendencies of American schools — especially in the middle-class – to view themselves solely through the twin lenses of grades and graduation rates. The cheerful banner in the school commons may proclaim, “Dream the Impossible,” but the evident management attitude is often, “Dream It Our Way or Get Out.” Meanwhile, tucked away in the library are dust-spattered copies of “A Nation at Risk,” the landmark 1983 report that predicted dire consequences for a county that fails to understand that different children learn differently, and dream differently.

   We cannot empower “at risk” children, or graduate them, until we agree on who they are.

   Children are placed at risk by many factors, including the tendency of grownups to confuse symptoms and diseases. Bad things happen to kids who do not eat well, as well as those who live with mental illness, racial and sexual bigotry, parents who don’t speak English, or constant thoughts of suicide. The same goes for gifted students, who get straight A’s as they slip silently into depression and despair.

   These children are at risk not necessarily because they do poorly in school; they do poorly in school because they are at risk. They remain there as long as they remain in the custody of adults who wait until something officially bad happens before summoning the school intervention team. If everyone waits long enough, the child won’t be “at risk” anymore because he’ll be “in custody” or “deceased.” On the bright side, schools don’t have to count dead kids in their dropout rates.

   If “at risk” is just an accounting widget for gerrymandering school budgets, let us all say so and call it a day. The new Kansas law permits schools to use “at risk” funds to cover the cost of all-day kindergarten. And we have oceanfront lots in Wichita for those who believe the $10 million handout will disappear after a year.

   For that matter, let us simplify these labyrinthine state school funding laws and declare all children, rich and poor, healthy and sick, to be “at risk.” It may be more true than we imagine.

   The milieu is changing in the schools of suburbia. Many are witnessing an exodus of the super-affluent and the arrival of a new middle-class, more diverse than the last one and less interested in the old shoptalk.

   If we’re lucky, the new families will have less tolerance for freakish funding and staffing gimmicks. They will expect schools to accommodate all children, not just the ones who learn quickly and achieve effortlessly. They will expect schools to rescue children before they are at risk, not after.

   Whether this costs more money or less depends on whether one thinks it is only about the money.