California charter schools are, in effect, imposing entrance requirements on the basis of family accountability.
Charter schools, like vouchers, are being marketed in part as a last-ditch effort to spur reform in public education. Under laws passed in 19 states so far, parents, teachers, nonprofit groups, and others can apply to establish new public schools or remake existing schools outside the regular system, usually with the stated purpose of realizing a vision for better teaching and learning. The idea is that these experimental schools, funded by tax money but freed from state and local regulation, will show other public schools by example how to create successful learning communities for all children -- especially those with the greatest educational needs.
Charter schools proponents are quick to draw attention to the importance of their movement for disadvantaged youngsters. A recent national newsletter about charters says enrollments are "skewed toward at-risk students, not the elite." In California -- which passed its charter school law in 1992 and now has some 80 approved charters, more than any other state -- the authorizing legislation says one purpose of the schools is "to increase learning opportunities for all students, with special emphasis on expanded learning opportunities for pupils who are defined as academically low achieving."
But researchers Henry J. Becker and Kathryn Nakagawa of the University of California at Irvine and Ronald G. Corwin of the Southwest Regional Laboratory discovered a rather different story when they were collecting data for a large-scale study on autonomy and innovation in California charter schools. In looking at the schools' strategies for involving parents, the researchers found a pattern of practices that seemed certain to discourage many parents (parents of the children who most need help) by setting strict rules about their participation.
There's nothing wrong with expecting parents to participate. Everyone knows that parental time regularly spent reading to children, engaging them in conversation and story-telling, and helping with homework makes an enormous difference. The California charter law even calls for parental involvement in school governance. But the charter schools don't just invite all interested parents to play a role. They set formal, legalistic requirements for ongoing parental participation in school activities. Most schools spell out what they expect from parents in a written "contract" and many go so far as to specify penalties -- including expulsion -- for a parent's failure to meet the required obligations. For example:
"I will participate in monthly meetings. If I am unable to attend, I will work four hours of additional service or pay a fine of $20 for each such meeting. I am aware that I cannot miss more than three meetings .... If I do not meet this requirement, I understand that my daughter/son will not be able to continue attending this school." Another contract states: "Any student accepted on an above-mentioned agreement will meet a prescribed written contract and will understand, if the contract is broken, said agreement will be revoked and the student will be disenrolled.
The contracts by and large are a one-way street. Parents agree to fulfill commitments to, for example, support school codes at home, guarantee their child's attendance, help with homework, keep a log of their involvement, and put in a specific amount of volunteer time at the school. But the schools' side of the bargain typically is limited to general statements pledging to maintain a positive school climate (with one exception: the contracts usually commit teachers to communicate frequently with parents and send them specific plans for how to help with homework!). The contract must be signed by the parent but it seldom requires the signature of a school representative.
The result of this elaborate admissions machinery? Contrary to the language of the California law, the charters studied enroll smaller proportions of minority, low-income, limited-English-proficient, and below-grade-level students than the nearby public schools the charter students otherwise would have attended. The parent contract serves as a kind of sorting device. The schools are not simply encouraging a learning partnership with parents; they are, in effect, imposing entrance requirements on the basis of family accountability. Children whose parents are scared off by the contract's tone, or don't have the time to volunteer, or can't read, or don't understand what is being asked won't be enrolling in one of these schools. Nor will children who lack a caring parent or guardian.
Trying to draw parents into the task of helping children learn is obviously a worthy aim. And these charter schools are making a conscious effort to incorporate parents into the educational program for the good of the children. But child development is not the issue here; the issue is what kinds of families get to send their children to charter schools.
Charter schools are held up as beacons of hope for all children in an otherwise bleak education landscape. It is dismaying, then, to find the reality is that charter schools don't want children who might be, as the California researchers put it, "the least desirable to teach."