School reformers call what happened last month in Springfield a victory, and they say their future looks bright. “We did fine,” says Joan Jeter Slay, interim executive director of Designs for Change, a prominent school watchdog group. “The legislators did most of what we wanted.”
Since Washington, the most prominent political leader of reform has been, of all people, House Speaker Michael Madigan, a shrewd southwest-side committeeman who has never displayed even a shred of educational ideology. His purpose in helping draft the 1988 school reform law was mostly political: he wanted to shield his loyal Democratic legislators from the kind of home-turf grumbling that might get them bounced from office.
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In June 1988 Madigan invited anyone interested in the issue–activists, teachers, parents, and politicians–into the rooms of the state capitol building where the bill was being drafted. “That was what made it so exciting,” says Diana Lauber, a staffer for Leadership for Quality Education, a group of business leaders concerned about education. “We were actually drafting the law.”
It didn’t help that such prominent reformers as Don Moore, executive director of Designs for Change, and Fred Hess, executive director of the Chicago Panel on Public School Policy and Finance, are white. Or that the main target of their criticism, former school superintendent Manford Byrd Jr., is black. Or that many reformers all but genuflected to Mayor Daley. All of this made it seem as though powerful portions of white and Hispanic Chicago were uniting to reverse the gains blacks had made under Washington.
Suddenly school reform really was in turmoil. No one even knew what the decision really meant. Were LSCs now illegal? Should they stop meeting and suspend all action? Were their previous acts invalid? Would they have to rehire dozens of employees or face years of costly litigation from principals and others seeking back pay and restitution?
Watching it all was Madigan, who probably didn’t like what he saw. The feud threatened the stability of his tightly controlled Democratic coalition. In an attempt to build consensus, Madigan invited all interested parties to speak their minds at three days of legislative hearings chaired by Anthony Young, Ellis Levin, and John Cullerton–one black west-sider and two white north-lakefront liberals–and attended by Democratic legislators from all over the state.
On January 8, bus loads of reformers descended on Springfield to lobby for the ABCs plan. But by noon it was clear they had no support. “I worry about things I can obtain right now,” north-side state senator Art Berman told a group of reformers. “Sometimes that means getting two-thirds of a loaf. I can get two-thirds of a loaf today. I will worry about the last third in April. I’m a practical politician.”
