I saw the much-heralded documentary “Waiting for Superman” last week. The movie opened in Kansas City only recently and I went with my book club that is focused specifically on reading books about education reform. Because several of us, myself included, are board members of a fledgling charter school set to open in Kansas City in Fall 2011, we were particularly interested in the movie’s take on charter schools.
I was a bit surprised by the film, despite hearing quite a bit about it in advance. On the one hand, I was fairly underwhelmed by the lack of in-depth discussion and simplistic take on education reform. I expected more in a film described as a documentary, although I think that term is grossly overused. For example, the narrator explains that an “effective” classroom teacher has been shown to cover 150% of the required curriculum in a school year, while an “ineffective” teacher only covers 50% of the curriculum. However, there is no explanation of the characteristics of an “effective” teacher, how to identify them, recruit them, develop and retain them. There is a lot of (much-deserved) criticism of teacher unions as part of the problem as they protect far too many poorly performing teachers and fight efforts to reward excellence in teaching. During the grand call to action at the end of the movie, the statement in stark letters, “We know what works….” and lists “quality teachers” as if we somehow thought it would be possible otherwise.
Perhaps even documentaries now need to “sell” themselves via dramatic flourishes. ”Waiting for Superman” follows now-former District of Columbia Superintendent of Schools Michelle Rhee as she departs the office late at night, carrying her open laptop down the hall and studying the screen while talking on her cell phone on the way to her car. More shots of her in the car talking on one cell phone and going through messages on a second one. There are a few short bites of an interview with her about the challenges she faced; however, I wanted much more. The movie glamorizes Rhee and other reformers more than anything. The narrator concludes that people are out there making changes that work, and you should, too.
Ultimately, that is the message of the movie. My criticisms aside, I believe Davis Guggenheim intended it as a clarion call to action to take on what he believes (as do I) is one of the most critical challenges facing the United States. In that sense, I joined that party years ago. I have been focused on education as a civil rights issue since my college years and certainly in my professional life as an attorney. I’m probably not his target audience because I’ve already bought in.
I should have been prepared for the emotional impact of the movie. I knew of the storyline of the five children and their hopes for a better education tied up in lotteries. I understand the process and even helped craft it for our charter school. However, seeing these children wait with fear and hope really hit me in the gut. Our school may very well have to turn away deserving little ones. My tear ducts aren’t bashful, but I was especially taken aback at the reaction of the stoic guys in my book club. Watching them sink in their seats, cough and even perhaps hide a tear or two in a theater full of sniffles was something. We were supposed to get together over a glass of wine after the movie, but I had to leave as soon as it was over because I don’t typically like to show up in public with swollen raccoon eyes. (I found out today that the rest of the group made an executive decision to not discuss the movie afterwards.)
What affected me most about the movie was viewing failing schools through Guggenheim’s eyes when he became a parent. It changed his perspective. He highlights these children, but also their parents. He shows that many of these children do have loving, involved parents who want the best for their kids and who are willing to sacrifice for it. He asks us to consider what our personal obligation is to these children. We certainly prize individualism in this country, but the concept of “neighbor” and “community” runs deep in the American bloodstream, too.
Many anti-government activists and the voucher crowd have sold this movie as a political endorsement for blowing up traditional public schools. The movie does NOT endorse this view, nor do I. As president of a board that is building a charter school, I know first-hand it is extremely challenging and cannot be the only solution. We must create the political will to move traditional public schools toward significant reform. This, I think, is Guggenheim’s ultimate goal. We must demand better for our children. And it starts with us. I am humbled to be a part of this challenge.
