O’Neal asks all the right questions and gives all the right (though politically incorrect) answers.
The juxtaposition of two articles on the front page of the Daily News (Jan. 14) provides food for thought. And indigestion.
Above the fold was an article titled "Funding for gifted program could be in jeopardy." The article discussed the financial woes of the Pullman School District's Highly Capable Program, which provides enhanced opportunities for smart kids who wander bored through the normal curriculum.
Then one's eye fell to the article just below it: "UI offers help for struggling freshmen." The article notes that some 400 freshmen, out of an entering class of about 1,700, were on academic probation, unable to compile a 2.0 grade point average during their first semester. That's a C average - in an era when the "hook" is routinely awarded for mediocre work turned in by students whose principal achievement is having parents with checkbooks. In this context, 400 more students would likely be on probation were it not for gift grades.
These students, however, were not bored. As one noted, "You have all these social things to do; why would you want to study?"
Why indeed.
The same student, lamenting the challenges of freshman year, goes on to note, "I think to find that balance is the most difficult thing." Hmmm, let's see, binge-drinking or binge-studying? Library or gym? How does a poor freshman strike the right balance?
Admittedly, some students are on academic probation through no fault of their own. They had a protracted illness or a family crisis. Perhaps in some instances, the student really tried but lacks the necessary academic skills.
But let's also acknowledge that the contemporary concept of "balance" is pure psychobabble. Here's a radical notion: There should be no balance in the lives of university students. Society invests considerable resources in higher education, but "balance" is too often an excuse to neglect schoolwork in favor of "all these social things to do." University students, given the privilege of attending an institution of higher learning - with emphasis on "higher" - should live, breathe and eat their studies. They've got all summer, plus Christmas and spring break, to find balance in their lives, which, when you're 19, means protracting an adolescence that has already gone on for too long.
But the larger issue is the misallocation of societal resources, what an economist would call opportunity cost. Taxpayer money is being spent in an attempt to rehabilitate students who can't make the grade. And not just in Idaho. Required reading for anyone with a vested interest in higher education - lawmakers, faculty, college administrators, taxpayers, parents - should be an article by "Professor X" in the June issue of Atlantic magazine. Writing, as he puts it, "from the basement of the ivory tower," the anonymous English professor concludes:
"Telling someone that college is not for him seems harsh and classist and British, as though we were sentencing him to a life in the coal mines. ... I subscribe to the American ideal. Unfortunately, it is with me and my red pen that that ideal crashes and burns."
The point being that in too many cases, "higher" education is lower education. It's remedial. And it's a waste of scarce money that could be better spent.
Meanwhile, the gifted-and-talented program in Pullman struggles for lack of funds. But many taxpayers probably shrug with a "So what?" Aren't gifted-and-talented programs elitist, they ask, serving only the gentrified sons and daughters of the swells up at the manor house at the expense of incipient coal miners? Interestingly, we have no quarrel with "elite" in the context of sports. NCAA basketball teams aspire to reach the "elite eight" in the tournament. North Carolina and Duke are among the nation's "elite" programs.
Use "elite" in the context of education, though, and you're an antidemocratic prig, defiling the American dream of pulling people up by their bootstraps.
But whose bootstraps? And what if there are no bootstraps to pull?