Urban school districts look to 'savior' superintendents, only to
fire them when they fail to fix everything. Leadership is important,
but no single individual can redeem America's failing big-city
schools. By pretending otherwise, we set our leaders - and our
students - up for failure.
Who will lead America's ailing city schools out of the
wilderness, and into the promised land?
Across the urban landscape, that's the question on everyone's
lips. From Atlanta and Philadelphia to Kansas City and Seattle, over
a dozen major cities are searching for a new school superintendent
to solve their perennial woes: poor attendance, chronic violence,
and low academic achievement.
But the quest for a savior is a fool's errand, born of
desperation rather than hope. Although leadership is obviously
important, no single individual can redeem our failed big-city
schools. By pretending otherwise, we set our educational leaders up
for failure as well. Then the cycle starts again, as we search for
the next prophet whom we can anoint and - eventually - destroy.
That's why the average length of service for an urban
superintendent in the United States is just 3.6 years. If you
include all of the country's 15,000 school districts, the average
superintendent serves about seven years. But the bigger the
district, the shorter the term.
It wasn't always that way. In the first half of the 20th century,
especially, urban schools had much more continuous leadership. In
New York, for example, a single chancellor - William Maxwell -
served from 1898 (when the city's five boroughs merged into one
school district) until 1918. Five more men would occupy the position
until 1958, averaging a term of eight years each.
In the ensuing 40 years, by contrast, 17 people would serve as
chancellor in New York. But the city was a beacon of stability
compared to Kansas City, which had 39 - that's right, 39 - school
superintendents in the 49 years between 1959 and 2008. St. Louis
went through seven different superintendents in just a five-year
period, from 2003 through 2008.
So what happened? The answer might surprise you: civil rights.
After World War II, millions of Americans demanded equality across
race, class, and ethnicity. That created an entirely new task for
school leaders, who had long shunted minorities into substandard
schools or dead-end vocational programs.
Previously, the educators invoked the science of intelligence,
which allegedly demonstrated that some groups - especially racial
minorities - simply couldn't hack it academically. "All children are
not born with the same endowments or possibilities; they cannot be
made equal in gifts or development," the school superintendent in
Newark, N.J. wrote in 1920, in a typical statement. "The ultimate
barriers are set by a power inexorable."
In the end, of course, the educators themselves held the power -
to classify, rank, and determine the futures of millions of American
children. And they gave minorities the short end of the stick,
especially in tough economic times. During the Great Depression, for
example, three-quarters of black elementary school students in
Chicago attended school in two or three shifts (some students
attended morning sessions, while others attended afternoon