Wait a second — according to the Seattle Times, Washington students were considered sophomores if they were in their second year of high school, even if they hadn’t earned enough credits to “pass” their freshman year?

Everyone says Georgia’s backwards, but goodness knows you have had to pass five out of six ninth grade classes to move up to tenth grade in Georgia for as long as I can remember. How is it that Washington just figured out this might be a good policy, and why did it take a concern over test scores to effect this change? No wonder “[s]ome still think if they complete four years and are taking senior classes with friends, they’re going to be able to walk at graduation, when that’s not true.”

Two hot stories in education news right now involve the ongoing debate over teaching intelligent design in the classroom and school prayer. I am passionate about the issue of separation of church and state with regard to public schools for several reasons. As a parent, I do not want schools indoctrinating my child with religious beliefs that run counter to what I, as her parent, want to teach her. In this country, I am free to practice religion (or not) as I choose, and every religion and various denomination under each religion represents very different ideas. Who gets to choose what is “right”? I am also a proponent of separation of church and state because I think it would be bad for churches. I believe this is what Jesus’ teaching means: “Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” Finally, as a teacher, I would feel uncomfortable supporting religion in public schools, knowing full well that the wide array of religious beliefs of my students.

I currently teach at a private Jewish high school, and it does not bother me at all to support Judaism within the context of my job, because I think it is clearly understood that my students attend a religious institution — their education is not separate from their religion. They have told me some very interesting stories about public school teachers they have encountered. One student said that she had a teacher in the 5th grade who assigned her a seat near the teacher’s desk. Right in front of my student’s desk, on her own desk, the teacher placed a copy of the New Testament. She offered to loan it to the student at any time. She also offered to loan my student her copies of the Left Behind series of Christian fiction by Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye. I find the behavior of this teacher reprehensible. Who is she to try to undermine the religious teachings in the home of my student? How might she feel if someone did something similar to her daughter — for example, tried to pass her a copy of the Qu’ran?

As a high school student in marching band, our band held hands and recited the Lord’s Prayer before football games. Our band director was not involved. He passively watched on as we did this. In fact, it was in this circle that I learned the Lord’s Prayer, as my family did not go to church. However, I will say I felt awkward and pressured in that situation. I felt uncomfortable. It seems, though, that my director was following the letter and spirit of the decision made in Engel v. Vitale.

I was actually confronted with a dilemma involving school prayer this week when my students watched The Crucible. At the end of Nicholas Hytner’s movie, John Proctor, Rebecca Nurse, and Martha Corey recite the Lord’s Prayer. In the discussion following the movie, my students, unfamiliar with the New Testament, asked what it was. I told them. One remarked that it sounded kind of like a Psalm. Then another asked me why they would recite it at that time. I explained that it was similar to the Jewish prayer known as the Shema (“Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.”) In fact, I explained, I had read account of Holocaust victims reciting the Shema in much the same circumstances as the three accused witches recited the Lord’s Prayer. I indicated that the Lord’s Prayer had the same prominence for Christians as the Shema did for Jews. Then a student asked if I knew it. I replied that I did. She requested that I recite it. I thought for a second, decided that it would not constitute a violation of my principals, my school’s principles, or my students’ rights, because they were more or less asking not to be taught Christianity, but to hear the Prayer one more time for their own analysis of my claims that it was similar to the Shema, and I recited it. As an English teacher, I am often called upon to explain Biblical allusions to my students. I think it can be done in such a way as to prevent any discomfort or violation of my students’ rights.

There was a time in my life when I was very active in church. I listened to religious radio a great deal at that time. One of the pervasive fears of many of the hosts of the shows on that station was the spread of Secular Humanism. It was out of this fear that the Religious Right’s movement toward homeschooling began to pick up steam. The idea was that our schools were a bastion of Secular Humanism, and if one wanted to ensure their child was brought up with the proper beliefs and morals, it was incumbent upon the parent to shield their child(ren) from those influences, whether that took the form of homeschooling or private Christian schooling. In our country, parents are free to make this decision. I think it is important that parents have the freedom to choose how to educate their child in their religion (or lack thereof). There are countries where state religion and religious freedom exist in tandem. However, there are also countries with dogmatic state religions which actively encourage the obliteration of conflicting religious beliefs and harm those who have divergent religions.

I feel passionately that students should not have to be confronted with the pressure to pray in school or be taught intelligent design in public schools. Because I feel this way, many have asked me about my own religious beliefs. I actually do believe in intelligent design (or, to be more precise, theistic evolution), and I am a Christian who prays. However, I also believe firmly that these two values are religious values, and in choosing to pass these values on to my children, I would not wish her school to be involved.

I absolutely love Tolerance.org. I think it is wonderful that they supply teachers with materials for free — and good materials, too. If you haven’t checked them out, you should.

Because I’ve order materials in the past, I’ve been subscribed to their bi-annual magazine, Teaching Tolerance. I have found some good lesson plans in the past. The current issue had an interesting opinion piece entitled “Good Morning Boys and Girls” The subtitle? “Simple greetings can promote discrimination in young children.” I was intrigued so I read on.

The contention of author Rebecca S. Bigler is that we highlight differences between boys and girls more by using gender as a means of organiziation (alternate boy/girl seating) and in lessons (alternating boys and girls in turn-taking). She notes, for example, that we would never use race or ethnicity as a label in this way: “Good morning, whites and blacks,” or “Latinos, get your backpacks now.”

Does she have a point? Well, there are David and Goliath’s tee-shirts for girls. As a girl child, I probably would have considered them funny. As a mother of a son (as well as two daughters)… not so much.

While I think some of her arguments are valid, I wondered if this isn’t a mountain created from a molehill. I grew up in an era which was marked by less gender equality than my students seem to feel. I remember feeling pressured to pretend I wasn’t smart. That isn’t to say I succumbed to that pressure, but then, I was also considered a nerd, too. There were plenty of smart girls who played dumb. I also remember going through a period in elementary school during which boys were extremely yucky, and my peers and I spent plenty of time highlighting our differences. I grew out of it, and it seemed most of our peers did, too.

The more I think about it, however, the more unsure I feel. What exactly are we saying to children in our classrooms? What sorts of messages are they receiving? Does all this matter?

In the controversy over my school’s future building site and Fulton County Schools, the divide over public versus private schools was outlined starkly in the AJC’s reader blog over Weber’s brush with eminent domain. Very early on in the discussion, posters began to veer away from the topic at hand and debate very nastily over whether public schools or private schools are better and why. I think the blog is an interesting microscope of many issues we’ve all discussed in the education blogosphere.

I teach at a private school, but my background in education is mostly in the public schools — 6 years in total. For the last two, I’ve been teaching in a private school. I think private schools can be like any other schools — there are good ones and not so good ones. The school where I work happens to be a good one. At the same time, the public schools in my area have very good reputations.

However…

If I could afford to send my daughter to a private school like the one where I work, I probably would. I happen to make too much money for us to qualify for scholarships, but too little to afford private school tuition.

I have no broad condemnation of public schools. I can’t even bring myself to vote for Libertarian candidates because of the Libertarian platform on education.

So why do I feel this way?

I think that’s a question worth examining.

1. Smaller class sizes at my private school mean students receive more individual attention.
2. A marked difference in the number of discipline issues.
3. I can’t say if this is always true, but my experience so far has been that private school teachers are more satisfied with their work environments. Any teachers reading this blog probably realize morale is very important in making good schools.
4. Private schools are not inundated with testing. No CRCT. No ITBS. No state graduation tests. No “gateway” tests. With all that testing out, I’m able to have more hours in the classroom to really teach, and not to teach to some standardized test.

I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that private school teachers are less likely to be certified. In fact, some of my own colleagues are not. However, they are also brilliant, gifted teachers. While my salary is competitve, I have heard that some private school teachers do not earn the same as their peers in public schools.

With NCLB, school choice is once again a hot topic. Indeed, parents are allowed the option of transferring their children out of schools which fail to make AYP. I have to say that I am very conscious that I am delivering a product that parents pay a lot of money for. I think I was as good a teacher in public school (or tried to be — I didn’t always have the necessary support from parents or administration) as I am in private school. However, I am very conscious that parents do not have to send their child to my school. They have chosen to do so. I can’t say I feel more obligation necessarily so much as a different obligation. After having said that, maybe I do feel more obligation to my students and their parents, if I am to be completely honest with myself.

Do I believe in school vouchers? I just can’t go that far. I don’t think students are entitled to a private school education. And it isn’t just the wealthy upper class who send their children to private schools. Middle class families, poorer families send their children, too. I was surprised to discover how many private schools had financial assistance for families when I began researching possible schools for my daughter over the summer. I believe all Americans are entitled to a free, public education, and they receive that under our current education system. I am starting to wonder, however, what sort of changes will be wrought in public education if parents were allowed to send their children to the public school of their choice, and not just because the school failed to make AYP. What would our public schools look like? Where would the line between public and private be?