Thursday, July 23, 2009

Education

At last week's scout campout, one of the scout leaders posed an interesting question to the boys (running at the end of the pack, I caught little of the conversation, but it caused me to think heavily for a mile or so). He asked the boys what their number one priority would be if they were President of the United States.

It's the sort of thing I'm sure I thought about and cared about deeply hen I was in my late teens and early twenties, but my jaded adulthood has kept me from such thoughts. I'm much less passionate about some of the issues that once got me fired up, and, while I'm still interested in politics, I find myself much less partisan. Probably for the best.

So it took me a while to figure out what I care about, what my priority would be. But I finally came back to what I've been doing all my life, the only real job I've ever had: education.

And I come at this topic with a perspective very heavily influenced by my faith. The other day I was reading in 3 Nephi chapter 6, one of the more breakneck paced chapters in the Book of Mormon. After Nephi seals the heavens and the people repent, they quickly return to wickedness. (It always amazes me when the narrative account moves--in the space of two chapters--from a profound sense of happiness due to the righteous living of the people to their fully iniquitous state.)

In describing this wickedness, Mormon uses some language that I find intriguing. In verse 12, he states that "the people began to be distinguished by ranks," an inequality that always marks iniquity (the etymological roots of the two words are very entangled). But the cause of the inequality is in "their riches and their chances for learning."

The next few verses (I'm especially interested in verses 13 and 15 here) go on to explore the results of this disparity. But the cause--the vastly differing opportunities for education among the people--is what interests me. So, here's my response to the question posed on the hike.

I would radically reconfigure how the federal government supports higher education. Not in terms of mandating what degrees are offered or how programs are run, but in how opportunities for higher education are made available. I would rework the Pell Grant system to address the tuition cost crisis.

(I read recently that when the Pell Grant system was instituted, the grant amount covered somewhere in the neighborhood of 70% of average education costs. Today, they cover closer to 35% of the cost of a degree. Between out-of-control increases in tuition and [not coincidentally] administrator salaries and lagging increases in funding, we've slipped in our support for students, especially for the students who need higher education the most.)

But it's not just about increasing the amount of Pell Grant money available. I some cases, that would make matters worse. (Here's an example. At the college where I teach, tuition is very reasonable--the classes I teach are tuition-free for residents of the local tax district. So many students get money back on Pell Grants. This leads to pretty massive [unofficial] enrollment drops the day after Pell checks are distributed. This then bites the students who fail to pass enough of their classes, as they go on academic probation and often lose their Pell eligibility.)

Instead, what I want to see is smarter funding, attached to both tuition cost and student income. Make not only community college education, but also public and private universities accessible and affordable. Offer students the opportunity to invest Pell money in excess of tuition and book costs in a personal savings plan with matching funds (perhaps at a 2-to-1 ratio) for graduate studies, opening a small business, or buying a home. Or direct any excess funds back to the institution with the stipulation that a) the funds go directly to instruction and certain support services (tutoring, advising, etc.) and b) retention and graduation rates exceed certain rates.

None of this makes for a perfect solution, and there would be all sorts of resistance from administrators, faculty, politicians, and parents. But, I think we need to be, to use my favorite Obama term, audacious in tackling this iniquity.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi Roy: This Ted Taylor (of Marie & Hayley...) I read an article in Indian Country Today I wanted to share with you, but commenting here was the easiest way to contact you. the headline reads: Episcopal Church repudiates Doctrine of Discovery.

http://www.indiancountrytoday.com/enews/alerts/51572857.html

LDS support would be significant. It's worth the read. See you soon. Ted

Roy said...

Ted,
Thanks for the link. I find the role played by religion in the violence of colonization to be among the greatest ills of Western civilization. Some years ago, while studying postcolonial literature, I decided to read the Book of Mormon from that perspective, and I found it illuminating. Historically, Christian texts were often used to validate plunder and murder, but the core of the gospel that I subscribe to is that salvation only comes through the process of ethically approaching the other, and that racism and bigotry damn us in the truest sense of the word--they alienate us from the inherent God-like qualities of mercy and love that we are to cultivate. Good to see at least some branches of Christianity are beginning to emphasize this more.

Anonymous said...

I was raised by parents actively involved in the Civil Rights & Farm Labor Movements in the 50’s and 60’s. I grew up believing every person matters, injustice can’t be ignored, and what we do makes a difference. I read the article from Indian Country Today and saw an 1823 U.S. Supreme Court case decision based on the Doctrine of Discovery limiting American Indian Sovereign Nations to a right of occupancy, but not ownership of their ancestral lands – a legal leverage point to confront the “Great White Father Syndrome” and right a few historical wrongs. I focused on “what can be done now” from an activist perspective, while you stepped back to ask “why did this happen” from an ecclesial perspective. Age has tempered my obsessive compulsion to engage in “questions… contentions, and strivings” (as described by the writer of Titus); I’m learning to honor and respect insights and worldviews divergent from my own. Thank you for the time and thoughtfulness invested in “Postcolonialism and Religious Discourse “– even if the title is a little term-paperish… And thank you for helping me see this issue from a wider perspective; I’ve learned from the experience and for that I am most grateful.
Ted Taylor