LEBANON, MISSOURI, USA
Listening to: Blake Babies, God Bless the Blake Babies
Look, I'm just going to get this out of the way: I fucking hate The Apprentice. I've never met Donald Trump, and I don't really have anything against him, but the popularity of his show is driving me batty. A large part of my job involves meeting new people, often as a sort of landing party for the ship of Hoffmaster. I contact somebody, say, "Hi, so and so, I'm calling from Hoffmaster, Finney and Cordes, and we're interested in discussing your product, service or other." This used to be a painless process. Now, invariably, after I tell the person that I am Hoffmaster's personal assistant, I hear, "Oh, like on The Apprentice?"
Attention, everyone I call in the next several years: I am not a contest winner. I am not a minstrel. For that matter, I'm not Charlie Sheen, either. Is that settled? Great. Now that I'm good and mad, let's talk about charter schools.
I've been talking with Aaron about his impending TA strike in Madison and it's put me in mind of an enterprise we've recently entered into, which I'm kind of hesitant to talk about. When I started writing this column, Hoffmaster gave me full permission to discuss whatever I wanted, so long as it didn't violate my relatively weak NDA. Still, I don't really want to come out here and knock our business.
From the age of five to the age of 22, the state of Michigan educated me in a series of public schools. Now, at 27, I'm a rich, young, extremely good-looking power broker. My education was not the best that money could buy, but then, my schools never really got that opportunity. In my grade school years, the district had just enough money to do without frills. In high school and college, John Engler's strip-mining of the education system had taken full effect. The school band got cut before my senior year, and every year in college brought more reliance on corporate donations.
Last summer, Hoffmaster got a call from a woman named Kate Lippmann, who had been running a charter school in Missouri for three years. She and a group of other charter school administrators had gotten together with a couple of MBA's and now wanted to start a private education franchising company. They had already talked to Edison, but they weren't impressed by anything those guys had to offer. What they wanted was money to get things going and an experienced organization to work the market. Hoffmaster was intrigued; I was not.
I admit, this is a personal bias, and a deep-seated one. I don't like charter schools, I don't like vouchers, I don't like Edison. I think their primary effect is to divert resources away from students who have no options and schools that are governed by Constitutional regulation. I told Hoffmaster all this, and he was cool with it, but he didn't really care. Government money is too good to avoid for somebody like him. I suppose it didn't help my case that Hoffmaster grew up middle class and religious, attending parochial schools through to adulthood, and even though he's now a super-rich agnostic, he still didn't see much trouble with private education. The upshot was that he understood I didn't want much to do with this project and would be a constant voice of skepticism.
I didn't want to ask off the project, though, for a couple major reasons. First of all, I'm still learning on the job. I have a long way to go in terms of gathering experience, and I'm long since inured to the fact that some deals will require nose-holding. Even if I never get involved in an education deal again (and I hope I don't), I want to know how they work. Second, the project would go forth with or without me, and with me on board I would be in a position to provide the dissenting view. As it turned out, my healthy skepticism would be needed.
We flew out to Lebanon, MO, to meet with Lippmann's people in early August. We met her first at her home, which was straight out of Woman's Day -- I mean that in a nice way, and I'm sure she'd take it as a compliment -- and from there went to the school she ran. Located basically in the middle of nowhere, the Towsley Charter Elementary School served three adjacent districts, from which parents drove their kids in every morning. I admit, it was tremendous. They had all the stuff that Lebanon's public schools almost certainly didn't -- new-ish computers, very up-to-date textbooks, even a sort of feng shui to the classrooms' layout. One of the school's teachers was there when we arrived (I assume it was a setup), preparing lesson plans and other materials for the school year that would start in less than a month. I liked what I saw of it; the emphasis seemed to be on critical thinking in real-life situations. But after she'd explained some of what they did, I changed the subject.
"Are you guys unionized?" The school had only five teachers and about 80 students. Lippmann was the only full-time administrator.
"No, we're not. We talked about it, but it just seems like that would get in the way." I felt justified again in my skepticism. I'm from Michigan, remember; even our conservatives tend to be pro-union. "We try to remember that this is all about the kids and shaping the future, not getting rich." I wanted to punch her in the face.
Hoffmaster didn't betray any such frustration, but he did take the ball and turned to Lippmann. "Do you have experience working with teachers' unions?" She didn't, but others in her group had. It seemed like Hoffmaster was impressed with their operation, but wary of their managerial ability. To be honest, that's sometimes just how he likes it. He's able to bring people in to do their thing and retain ultimate control himself. He's a big-time micromanager, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't sleep.
We were familiar with Edison's technique, and the thing that most impressed Hoffmaster about the Towsley School was that it was so different from Edison schools. That wasn't enough, though. The deciding factor was going to be the market. Lippmann told us that interest from the Kansas City School District was what had sparked her to contact us, so we went there before heading back to Boston. Kansas City's already got a number of charter schools, and their officials seem to be happier with those than with their own institutions. Public opinion is very much on the side of these charter schools, and it turned out that Kansas City had a boatload of money to spend on converting their whole district to "alternative" schooling. The Missouri teachers' union had, shall we say, a different view on things. They made it clear that they saw this as a way for Kansas City to bypass them and hire basically anybody who would show up.
Hoffmaster wasn't going to blink at that money, I knew it as soon as I saw the district's proposals. He cut Lippmann a check to found New Way Education Systems, LLC, and they signed papers with Kansas City in late October. None of the contracts specified union teachers, or much in the way of specific higher education, and it was clear to me that this setup valued specialized training -- e.g. Montessori -- above certification and discipline-focused education. I was kind of disappointed. A couple days after the papers were signed, I asked Hoffmaster why he didn't at least bring up the union thing in the negotiations.
"I didn't have to. Look how much leeway they've given New Way in hiring and setting qualifications." It was a lot, in case you're curious. "New Way can hire almost anybody, even provide most of the necessary training if they don't have it already. New Way could decide to only hire union teachers with college educations in their particular field. Hell, we could decide to only hire PhD's if we wanted. And guess who's got the bulk of the power over New Way?" Money talks, and Hoffmaster spoke loud and clear.
I still don't like this. Nobody's education should depend on a billionaire's benevolence, nor should it be subject to the whims of self-trained administrators. The first phase of the project launches on August 30; barring any catastrophes, we'll be in at least four more cities a year later. I really hope I'm proven wrong.