“It It Weren't My Age...

it would be my motion or my Swarthmore background,” says Baltimore pitcher

Dick Hall ’53, that would spur sportswriters on

It’s the bottom half of the seventh inning, two out, runners on second and third, score 4-3 Baltimore. Oriole manager Earl Weaver motions to the bullpen. The reliever strides on the field, carefully surveys the pitching area, and places his 6-foot 6-inch frame atop the mound. He takes the signal from the catcher and begins a motion that has been variously described as a “drunken giraffe on roller skates,” ‘a Bloomer Girl’s stage routine,” or “your kid sister’s tantrum.”

Dick Hall ’53 has been called in to save another ball game.

The balding, forty-year-old Hall has made a dis- tinguished and long-lived career in major league base- ball with his ability to put out just such fires. His re- lief heroics this past season (10 victories, 3 saves) paced the Baltimore Orioles to their second straight American League pennant. Hall’s finest hour came in the first World Series game when he came on to retire seven consecutive Reds to sew up the win and send the Orioles flying to a five-game victory for the world championship.

Hall graciously consented to offer his observations on baseball and on his pleasant days at Swarthmore.

VANNI: It seems that everything I read mentions Dick Hall as “the forty-year-old relief pitcher.” Do you re- sent this?

Hatu: No, I’ve gotten used to it. A writer is always looking for an angle, and if it weren’t my age, it would be my motion or my Swarthmore background.

Interview by CIGUS VANNI ‘72

VANNI: What did you think when the Phillies released you in 1968? Did you think that this would be the end?

HAL: I really wasn’t sure, since my arm had given out in that season. But I knew that my arm would come around if I just waited a year, so I thought that I could help someone.

I knew also that an old pitcher like myself has to be on a pennant contender. Many expansion teams couldn’t afford the luxury, since they must build with youth and hope that things come together.

VANNI: Have you any idea how much longer you'll remain active?

Hau: Oh, I don’t think much longer. I get by basi- cally by throwing hard stuff, fastballs and _ sliders, and I must have really good control, since the ball does slow down a bit each year.

I have experimented with a knuckleball over the years in order to preserve my arm, but I found that I’d be forced to change my motion in order to use it. A change as big as that just wouldn’t be beneficial, because I’d have to throw the knuckleball on nearly every pitch, and I’m too old for such a big difference.

VANNI: Do you foresee yourself becoming a coach or manager?

Hau: I don’t think so. I think I’ll probably stay with the accounting firm [Main LaFrentz & Company,

Joyous teammates reach for a handshake and then douse him with champagne after Hall retired seven

Reds to save the ’70 Series first game for the Orioles.

THE SWARTHMORE COLLEGE BULLETIN, of which this publication is Volume LXVIII, No. 3, is pub- lished in March, May, July, September, October, December, and January by Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, Pa. 19081.

Photographs

by Tadder/ Baltimore

D C k Hal | continued

Baltimore) since I passed the CPA exams last winter. I figured if I could get through Swarthmore, I could do well enough on the exam.

Accounting offers a better future than a baseball job just due to the traveling. You’re gone half the year, plus you go to Florida for spring training. It’s hard to leave the family, and after doing that for such a long time now, I’ll want to settle down.

VANNI: Would you ever consider a coaching job at Swarthmore?

Hau: Well, that’s a possibility, but I think being a CPA now will take up most of my time. I’m pretty well settled here in Baltimore, and the family would not want to move.

There’s also a possibility that I could be a part-time coach, to sort of stay with the game. There is a good feeling to coach at Swarthmore with that sort of pres- sure—or non-pressure, I should say—especially com- pared to the sometimes overemphasized professional sport. The way sports are played at Swarthmore, now and back when I was playing, is ideal, a sense of or- ganized competition against good teams. Though it felt good to win, there was never any great pressure to produce the type of season demanded at, say, Ohio State or Mississippi.

You must keep everything in perspective. Profes- sional sports are an exception, of course, but college is first a place for your education. Swarthmore has - realized this in setting up its athletic program.

VANNI: How were those sporting days at Mother Swarthmore?

Hat: Oh, very pleasant; we had a lot of people that enjoyed sports when I was there. For myself, I played football for a year, then switched to soccer in the next season, and of course, basketball and baseball.

You know, our basketball team was pretty talented. I remember we won the conference my freshman and junior years, and that was certainly exciting for me.

Baseball, of course, was always my first interest, and I was really happy that I could play in my fresh- man year. I think the year before I came the team lost every single game they played, and my first team started off dropping their first five games, so we were no great shakes.

I started off as an outfielder primarily, and I pitched once a week while at Swarthmore. I had been a fairly good all-around athlete at prep school, so I had a chance to play every game. I know we had a winning record my next two years, but I can’t remem- ber the totals. And I signed with the Pittsburgh

Pirates after my junior year, so, of course, I wasn’t eligible to play in my senior year.

VANNI: Why did you choose baseball as a career?

Hari: There are many reasons. First of all, I had always enjoyed the game, just the sense of competing against another team, and I was fortunate enough to have some talent. You can get involved very easily in baseball, coming down to the one-on-one encounter of pitcher versus batter, which gave me a great pleasure.

At Swarthmore, I used to often wonder, well, if I were up against Penn and Princeton, how would I do? When you find that you can fit into their brand of baseball, you begin to wonder how you would do against, say, Arizona State or Southern California. Soon you see yourself reaching out to the minor leagues and ultimately the major leagues just out of curiosity; just how would you perform in the big time? In this sense, baseball has been a real challenge to me, just to see if I could play with the big boys.

Then consider the battle of skills. Baseball comes down to your team’s skill against that of your op- ponent, and you'll try your best to win the game, to accomplish something. There’s quite a bit of pride in a solid team, and you get a good feeling knowing that you’re recognized by your teammates and fans.

Baseball is quite difficult, really. It’s pretty demand- ing to keep sharp for such a long period of time. And there’s no certainty involved. Those people that com- pare baseball to theater as entertainment fail to re- alize that there’s no script for baseball. It’s very changeable, unpredictable. Think of the rainouts as an example; I remember what a catastrophe rain used to be at Swarthmore. But now you welcome a day off, if just to give you some way to relax from all the built-up pressure.

You also know how important money is to a col- lege student, so when someone offered me money to play baseball, I said, hey, that sounds like fun, and I knew Id have to try it. I knew that I would always have the experience, too, and when I got down to spring training my first year and batted against the likes of Bob Feller and Sal Maglie, who were really my heroes, well, you know it was all worth it.

VANNI: What are the major differences between Swarthmore and the major league circuit?

HALL: Well, in baseball there’s a tremendous pressure to conform. Baltimore for one has its famous Kangaroo Court that will put the needle to a player for some- thing out of line or some mental lapse like running in with only two outs. Another very common thing is dress. Some of the guys will come in without socks, and bang, right away, they’re hit with a fine—

Swarthmore Alumni Issue

VANNI: For not wearing socks? Ouch!

Hau: You have to figure that the team must main- tain a real cohesive spirit for work like this, because it’s usually us (the team) against the world.

To get back to your question, this trend, or tenden- cy to conform goes along with other occupations, too, for I know we have an expected way to dress at the accounting office. College in general doesn’t put this sort of restraint on you.

Also we were very sheltered at Swarthmore. When I found out that even the golf team got a training meal, I couldn’t believe it. Everything was provided, and it’s a real experience going from that to the big leagues, where you have to eat and maintain yourself on your own.

And I say again there’s the pressure. In our league you have to win, you have to produce, because there’s another man waiting for your job if you aren’t capable. You'll find yourself sitting on the bench in no time if you aren’t producing. In many ways the Swarthmore situation without the pressure was much better.

VANNI: How is life in the bullpen?

Hau: Well, I’m considered an ultra-liberal by my fellow pitchers, I guess owing to the college education and what that brings to mind. We'll talk about Kent State and other related things, you know, since a few of the players are in the National Guard, and we’ll debate for long stretches over these issues. It seems odd to say that I’m an ultra-liberal because I’m really conservative by Swarthmore standards.

VANNI: You must be really sharp down there knowing that you might be waved in at any minute.

Hau: It’s really more of a mental thng. A starter may be tight for the first couple of hitters, but he can settle down as the game goes on. Now a relief pitcher comes into the game cold; everyone else has usually been in the game for at least six or seven innings, but he is just starting the game for himself. So many times the first pitch can be the key. We had two contrasting examples in the series with relievers Eddie Watts and Tom Phoebus: Watts’ first pitch went out for a home run. He was just fine after that, though, and settled right down and did his job. Then you have Phoebus, who got a double play on his first pitch but ran into trouble later in the game. In each case, though, luck does play an important part in your performance.

VANNI: What team or individuals gave you the most trouble last year?

HA.uuL: Oh, Minnesota, no doubt. They beat us in the season’s series [the only club to do so]. They’re a very tough team, lots of good hitting.

Of the toughest hitters, I’d say Tony Oliva [Min-

December, 1970

With relievers, it is more of a mental thing, says Hall.

nesota outfielder], and Yastrzemski [Carl Yastrzem- ski, Boston outfielder]. They’re left-handers, and I usually have more trouble with lefties, and they also hit a low pitch very well. But I do welcome a chance to pitch against the top batters, going back to pitting my skill against theirs. -

So many people failed to give our hitters credit. The Cincinnati totals were more impressive—those high totals of home runs and runs batted in—but we had only twelve fewer home runs and even scored more runs than they did. One big reason was the number of walks our batters had drawn compared to the num- ber of passes we pitchers had given up; I think the hitters had us beaten by over 200, and so could na- turally come home more often. Then too, I’m sorry that the Reds’ pitching staff was hurting so much; that’s really what killed them.

VANNI: One last question, by request: what was your favorite course at Swarthmore?

Hau: Well, that’s really a hard one. I would say that because of the curiosity that was aroused by it, As- tronomy 1-2 would have to rank as my favorite. I remember that when the baseball field was where Du Pont is now, I hit a home run into Professor van de Kamp’s garden. He was a good teacher. I really must say that I enjoyed all my courses at Swarthmore.

VANNI: Thank you very much!

Pity the Local School Board?

While some critics would write off local school boards except as ceremonial agencies, the author, with seven years’ service, contends that they are central to our democratic system

“Pity the local school board”—such is a common attitude toward this aged American institution. Faced with problems of integration, of fi- nance, and of militancy, local school boards are pictured as powerless in their search for solutions—powerless because of state financial and curri- cular restrictions. Many critics con- clude, therefore, that we should “write off the local school board except perhaps as a _ ceremonial agency.”’*

But what are the alternatives? Will pushing the problems upstairs bring needed reforms within our grasp? Or will we simply compound - our problems? My answer is that a local school board can still solve many of our critical problems and perhaps is the only means of doing so. This position—clearly out of step with recent trends—is based largely on the limited experience of seven years’ service on one local school board. I do not intend to provide a white-washing of the local school board. It is far from a perfect insti- tution and it has many inherent faults. Yet, recognizing the size of our country and the complexity of our educational and social problems, I believe that the local school board, rather than a state or national school system, provides us greater oppor- tunity for success.

Before discussing the options and

*This view is developed in the Carnegie Quarterly, Vol. XVII, No. 4, Fall, 1969: “Race, Money, Militancy: New Issues Confront the School Boards.”

by Ann Millis Leavenworth ’45

opportunities of a local school board from my worm’s eye point of view, I must describe my local scene. The Fresno City Unified School District is the fifth largest in California, with a student body slightly over 60,000 in 72 schools operated on a budget of $42 million. The five-member school board is elected at large for four-year terms. Fresno, a “poor” district, has the second highest tax rate in the state, yet raised $80 less per student than the state average. Increases in the operating tax have been regularly approved by a ma- jority of the voters, but it took three elections before the necessary two-thirds vote approval could be obtained for building bonds in 1968.

Three other important aspects of school politics should be noted. First, the community’s concern about its schools has steadily increased as measured by attendance at board meetings during the past decade. Seven years ago we met in a small conference room with a few citizens in attendance. Now we meet in a large auditorium with attendance running as high as a thousand. A second aspect of Fresno is its cosmo- politan character, surprising for an agriculturally oriented community centered in the richest agricultural county in the country. The city was settled by groups from around the world—Basque, Armenian, Italian, Danish, Japanese, Chinese and Mex- ican—groups that even today retain some cultural identity. Until the 1940’s discrimination, particularly in

housing, was open and_ absolute against the Orientals and Armenians. More recently discrimination in housing and employment has been practiced against the Mexican-Amer- icans and the Negroes. Mexican- Americans comprise roughly 20 per- cent of the school population, Ne- groes roughly 12 percent. Both mi- norities are largely concentrated in two residential districts. Finally, the importance of the local newspaper in challenging the best in the commu- nity must be emphasized. The Fresno Bee has an exceptionally able staff that keeps the public informed and public agencies on their toes.

Such is the brief background on Fresno, a community that in 1969 was awarded the title of ‘All Ameri- can City.” What has been the record of the community’s school board in the past decade? To what degree has it responded to the needs of the community both internally and in the society of the nation?

Let’s look first at the record of the Fresno school board, a group of un- paid lay citizens, in forcing the ad- ministration to adapt itself to the changes of the past decade. The extent of the reforms and the effort of the administration to respond to board demands during the past dec- ade is impressive. The local board, despite changes in its composition, has continuously demanded improve- ment in the quality of the educational program. In the primary grades, the administration has responded with an intensive and varied reading pro-

Swarthmore Alumni Issue

gram, while at the secondary level, new curricula from play writing to computer programming have been in- troduced. At the junior high school level, curricular innovation has also included three different approaches to flexible scheduling.

To support such improvements in the academic program, a variety of institutional reforms has been de- manded by individual board mem- bers and implemented, sometimes only after long and heated argument. The concern of one board member brought needed reform in personnel practices. Teacher salaries during the past decade have been signifi- cantly increased to meet the state average, so that Fresno can compete for the best teachers in California. My own concern about our large classes and my frequent comments about them at public meetings have brought improvement. While Fresno’s classes are now smaller than the state average, California’s average is de- plorable and continuing pressure is obviously needed in this campaign. Two other concerns of mine—ele- mentary school libraries and open school grounds—have been instituted over administrative objection.

Such innovations and changes in- stituted by a local board obviously required funding. How can a local school board, caught between the Squeeze of the taxpayer revolt at the local level and declining state support above, manage such costly innovations? Federal funds aided significantly the reading and library programs. Unlocking the _ school grounds required not a penny from the budget. But the other changes— raising teachers’ salaries and lower- ing class size—have come from a change in our priorities. The local school board has much more leeway within its budget than is generally admitted. It is often asserted that, after fixed charges and salaries, a school board has less than five per cent of the budget remaining. But those ‘‘fixed charges” and “salaries” set the priorities of the district: All

December, 1970

kinds of important but unessential programs, from driver education and competitive sports to purchases of expensive educational hardware, are buried in the general line items of the budget.

Here are several examples of the choices open to our local board with- in its budget: Plagued with double sessions because of a _ classroom shortage, the Fresno board agreed to rent additional warehouse space but opposed rental of classroom facilities. Last winter in a series of hearings, the board became aware of the large number of hungry children in our schools due to the 30 percent un- employment rate in our ghettoes. Though aware that the district re- ceived $500,000 worth of surplus food used in the hot lunch program that only middle-class children could afford, the majority of the board was willing to allow only an additional $40,000 to double the amount of our free lunch program. At this same meeting, the business manager re- ported that $80,000 additional was

Elementary school libraries and open grounds were concerns of Ann Leavenworth.

needed for adequate fire insurance coverage. The majority of the board immediately approved the sum. Thus there is room within a budget for change. It is a question of whether insurance against hunger is as im- portant as insurance against fire.

A local school board also influences its bureaucracy by its essential though somewhat improper role as ombudsman. Scarcely a week has passed during my seven years on the board without a phone call from a parent, teacher, or student asking for help. It is inevitable in any large institution that either indifference or stupidity will squash innocent indi- viduals in the machinery. When frustrated at obtaining justice from the bureaucracy, or when fearful of possible reprisal, citizens can and do turn to a local school board member.

And finally, local interest groups pressure the local board which in turn moves the administration. Sup- porters of competitive athletics have traditionally been masters of this technique. This spring in Fresno, a

new group—Citizens for Quality Education—organized and dramat- ically influenced the board. In re- sponse to the administration’s tenta- tive budget which cut 200 teaching positions from our schools, I pre- sented a statement of priorities to the board urging the elimination of non-teaching positions before teach- ing positions. With the vote running four to one on most critical issues since last year’s election, I had only slight hope of convincing a majority of the board of my priorities. But the Citizens for Quality Education con- vinced the board—through petitions, attendance and speeches at board meetings, and newspaper advertise- ments. On the crucial vote the board was unanimous in restoring the full academic program in the high schools and only twenty-four teaching posi- tions were finally eliminated.

During the past decade, then, the Fresno school board has been able to encourage change, innovation and improvement in the administration of its schools.

But the ability of a local school board to control and direct its ad- ministrators is meaningless if the board itself fails to represent the total community. The Fresno school board has scarcely earned a passing grade in its responsiveness to the whole community. In large measure this is due to the manner of election at large from the whole district. The current upper economic repre- sentation of the board—two medical doctors, one Ph.D., one lawyer, and one junior college coach—is typical. Geographical representation of all areas of the city, despite its inherent limitations, is probably the only means of obtaining wider representa- tion on this board. Yet, because of local control it is impossible indefi- nitely to delay or ‘‘pass the buck’”’ when the local board is constantly challenged at open and well-publi- cized meetings.

The record of the Fresno board facing the fact of segregation is perhaps instructive. As our schools

became increasingly segregated and as pressure from reform groups and the Fresno Bee mounted, the school board ordered more studies and de- layed even the admission that there was a problem. Innumerable public meetings produced much heat and little light. But last year, the ma-

jority of the board voted to take a

small step toward solving the prob- lem. Magnet schools at the high school and elementary levels were established, and all students that requested transfer were bused at district expense. Despite lack of earnest commitment by the adminis- tration, some 200 elementary white students have been voluntarily bused to the ghetto, and only three have dropped out of the program.” Similar success has occurred at the high school level. Clearly this small beginning of something like the Berkeley comprehensive program would not have occurred in the North if the decision had waited for state or national authorization. In Febru- ary the San Francisco board voted to proceed with its integration plans in spite of the objections of the mayor. It may well be that what local school boards have done about segregation is too little and too late, but in the north and west, some local school boards have been the example for the nation.

The bill of particulars against the local school board could be extended indefinitely. Still I cannot conclude that the nation’s route to “salvation” will be found by relegating the local school board to the role of a “cere- monial’”’ agency. Certainly our edu- cational problems can be solved only through cooperation and support by the state and national governments and the local school board. But the primary responsibility of the local board seems to me essential for administrative efficiency as well as for the continuance of “government by the consent of the governed.”’

* Because of the success of the program, a second magnet elementary school has been organized for the 1970-71 year.

What is a truly local school board and district? Questions of size are debatable and changing. Most would agree that somewhere between the outmoded one-room school and the enormous districts of Los Angeles or

New York City would be found the

ideal locally-controlled school dis- trict. My own experience would suggest that a student body of 60,000 would represent the outside limit of a human-sized district. A layman can be knowledgeable of the administra- tive operations of such a district and insist that administrative inertia and inefficiency be corrected. With hard work, a layman can even analyze its budget. In contrast, in New York City it required a full page advertise- ment in The New York Times before the bureaucracy did anything about the rats in one elementary school.

Of far greater significance than administrative efficiency in the future role of the local school board, how- ever, is the total working of our democratic system. Proposals to relegate local school boards to a ceremonial role rest on the easy assumption that the state and national governments will take up the tasks so poorly managed by local school boards. But can it seriously be contended that local school boards are no more than old-fashioned and outmoded symbols of our democratic faith? I would suggest that the local school board is more than symbol—it is central to our democratic system. If citizens refuse to face the problems of integration and taxation at the local level, how can it be assumed that citizens will demand that the state and national governments re- solve these problems?

On many counts, young people question “the system.” If democracy can work, it will not be by pushing the problems upstairs. The challenges must be met in part at the local level. For those of us with that wonderful, mystic faith in the democratic sys- tem, the inequities and failings of our schools must be resolved by the school board.

Swarthmore Alumni Issue

Sch ool Board Continued

Three alumnae discuss how the school boards on which they serve cope with money, collective bargaining, and curriculum

by Lucretia Gottlieb Floor ’47

My, first year on a school board has been a real challenge. I am the only woman on a nine-member board of the Rose Tree Media School Dis- trict in Delaware County and, in a state where school directors must be politically identified, one of the first two Democrats elected to any public office in our district. (The third Democratic candidate, a Negro, was defeated by a narrow margin; we as yet have no black citizens on our board. )

Our election followed a_ highly publicized, emotionally charged cam- paign in which the major issue was academic freedom. Specific teachers, and eventually the board and the whole school system, were attacked by a vociferous element of our com- munity. Our campaign (under the able direction of Alice McNees Michael ’48) received well-organized, bipartisan support. With the assis- tance of an effective group of local high school students (and several Swarthmore College students in various capacities), we managed to convince the voterse

Now, in the first months of a six- year term, I find my position of double-minority creates some inter- esting problems in dealing with fellow school directors, the adminis- tration, and the community. Because of the nature of the campaign, I feel particularly responsible to the people who worked so hard in my behalf, and particularly conscious of the scrutiny of those who opposed me. Hence, every decision is carefully considered, with awareness of the powers vested in a board member by one’s constituents. And, of course, as a woman, I feel I have a fair amount of suspicion to overcome among my

December, 1970

colleagues, even in this enlightened era of female liberation!

Our district comprises four com- munities, with 6,000 students in seven elementary and three second- ary schools. Our budget is $7 million, and rising.

Our main problems are fiscal, which of course include rising teacher salaries and corollary demands. While the teacher organization has gained significantly in strength, we have so far avoided dramatic con- frontations, and teacher-board rela- tionships in negotiating sessions remain mutually respectful.

Like most others, our district de- pends heavily on state financial support; however, we still have con- siderable autonomy in determining our budget, which does not require voter approval. Thus, we have lati- tude in deciding on priority expendi- tures and potential tax increases. It is during budget sessions in particu- lar that the board meets head-on with the personality and requirements of the superintendent. When, like ours, he is energetic and _ self-confident, clashes between such an individual and various members of his school board are inevitable and intriguing. The ensuing power-balancing between board members and between board and superintendent gives everyone a chance to argue for those areas of curriculum and expenditure which he feels are most important. In these

by Martha Porter Shane ’57

A. the end of the first year of a six-year term on the Swarthmore-

give-and-takes, a school director who has done his (or her) homework can really make his influence felt.

Recent surveys have deplored the dwindling power of school boards in the face of citizen resistance to in- creasing real estate taxes. This prob- lem exists in our district, and a lot of original thinking will have to go into its eventual solution. For their ultimate survival, boards must be capable of genuinely innovative ap- proaches to school financing and management. The — twelve-month school year, schools built in con- junction with commercial property, broad-based taxation, differentiated staffing, computer-assisted teaching, computer-processed schedules and payrolls—these are but a few ideas deserving serious consideration. The salvation of the local board lies in its ability to learn, adapt, experiment, and retain confidence in itself as the essential base for a viable system of | public education in a democratic society.

Lucretia Gottlieb Floor

Rutledge Union School Board, I am struck by the paradoxes of the job.

Sch ool Board Continued

The directors are elected locally, yet serve as officers of the state. The present directors are all Republicans, including appointees, yet partisan politics plays no part in the board’s deliberations. Four businessmen, a doctor, a college dean, and a house- wife are expected to make key de- cisions affecting public education. While costs and teachers’ salaries climb, the state legislature will either cut our subsidy per pupil or keep it the same, and the thus-far patient townsmen face a fourteen-mill in- crease in a town without industry, which depends on residential real estate taxation. Even our expectation of considerable revenue from a new five-million-dollar apartment com- plex, rising where the old Strath Haven Inn stood, is lessened by an interim assessment of only $100,000, a decision which our solicitor will appeal. The board’s limited time must often be spent conducting rou- tine business, while larger concerns, such as the philosophy of education or the drug problem, may not be - given the time and study needed.

As I am the only woman serving on our board at present, I wondered at first what function I might serve in a world of budgets and finances. Such a role wasn’t hard to find. I can serve in many areas that my male counterparts, being out of town or otherwise busy all day, cannot. I am able to spend time inside our schools, visiting classes and _ getting ac- quainted with both teachers and the curriculum. I can attend workshops or in-service sessions. I am home during the day to receive phone calls from fellow mothers, and I feel that public relations is a critical part of the job. I interview prospective teachers, and I worked with a com- mittee of parents, the school nurse, and the principal to determine a sex education curriculum in the elemen- tary school.

Education today is undergoing

Martha Porter Shane

some profound and exciting changes, and it is fun to have a small part in it. In our elementary school, our first three grades are so-called “ungraded,” and a child moves through fifteen levels of each subject, with enrich- ment phases for those who progress most quickly. A child can move ahead at his own pace or stay behind where he is comfortable without the stigma of failure. Our superintendent spent two weeks of the summer in England, studying the new “infant schools” which are designed to stim- ulate the student’s creativity and thinking processes rather than to stifle his natural curiosity. Instead of ordered rows of desks and a teacher-oriented lecture system, “‘in- fant schools” provide interest centers where the child chooses to spend his time without a rigid schedule and without the usual “sit still and be quiet” routine. This system is being tried many places in America, and while it is much less formal than today’s classrooms, it is nevertheless highly structured, with a well-defined and important role for the teacher. An innovation in our high school that the English department hopes

to try this year is patterned after the Apex program, developed by a school in Trenton, Michigan. As_ imple- mented in Trenton, there is a pre- registration where students them- selves elect their courses from an offering of perhaps thirty, ranging from film-making or composition to Shakespeare or modern poetry. Courses most in demand are then offered in the final registration, and the teachers sign up to teach those courses which most interest them. Classes are non-graded, so that there is vertical grouping of ninth through twelfth graders. Classes are phased one to five according to difficulty and depth, and counselors and faculty work closely with students on their choices. Computerized scheduling helps to make this workable, and, most important, students are taking courses they themselves have chosen. We are modifying the program to our smaller school. Like other schools everywhere, we are also trying to offer some more relevant courses, such as ecology, and to give our students more electives.

Our planning at this moment is somewhat tenuous, as the State has mandated us to merge with Nether Providence High School, twice our size, on the other side of the Crum. Our two previous appeals to block this merger have failed, and should our final appeal before the Superior Court of Pennsylvania also fail this fall, the two districts will merge under a single board, with three members from Swarthmore-Rutledge, and six from Nether Providence. We have fought this decision in order to preserve the advantages of a small system which we feel allows greater individual participation, both in the classroom and in_ extracurricular affairs, at a college-geared level of education. Balanced against these compelling arguments for retaining our independence is the potential for experimenting with more new edu- cational methods which the larger budget of the proposed merged district might make possible.

Swarthmore Alumni Issue

by Mary Boyce Gelfman ’57

Mary Boyce Gelfman

| AM a member of a nine-man Board of Education in Ridgefield, Connecti-

cut, a suburban community which has —

grown from 7,000 to 20,000 people in the six years we have lived here. Our elected board is somewhat unusual in that three members had some teach- ing experience, and all nine have either children or grandchildren in the school system. Of all the prob- lems we face, the one which was new to me is collective bargaining with our professional staff.

In Connecticut, state law requires that boards of education bargain collectively with teachers concerning salaries “and other working condi- tions.” In most communities, the board or a subcommittee does the negotiating, though in larger, wealth- ier districts boards have delegated some of this job to members of the administrative staff or to outside consultants. Problems of time and technical knowledge encourage such delegation.

Having just experienced six months

December, 1970

of weekly evening negotiating ses-

sions, weekly preparation meetings, |

and extra time for research and clerical work, I can hardly be called objective! In fact, our board wasn’t enthusiastic about the proposed con- tract settlement and agreed only after a sort of ‘“super-session” involving the whole board and a substantial group of teachers—the original nego- tiating team plus the officers of the Ridgefield Teachers Association. However, sitting at the table was an incomparable experience. I learned about working conditions; I learned about our administration; I learned about our NEA-affiliated teachers’ organization; and I got to know four teachers, likewise volunteer negotia- tors, whom I grew to respect and like.

When I was appointed to the team of four board members serving as a negotiating committee (assisted by staff members and a legal consult- ant), I received a lot of good advice. Unlike most attempts to translate experience from other fields into education, most of the advice was helpful. A recent New Yorker profile suggests that some of it came directly from Theodore Kheel. “Listen for priorities—don’t over-react”; ‘“de- velop a credibility gap—both ways: “You must be crazy! We can’t possi- bly afford...’ and “The teachers are very tough this year, they’ll never settle for ...’”; “Don’t be distracted by the role-playing on both sides of the table’; and “Happy school sys- tems have thin contracts” (ours was already fat).

An added dimension in Connecti- cut is that the final contract may be challenged for a vote by the local legislative body, in our case a town meeting in which about 7,000 voters are eligible to participate, although only 50 to 100 usually do. In sur- rounding communities which settled before we did, most contracts passed by comfortable margins. Ours came

to the town meeting late in June, and some voters petitioned that the vote be by machine, in a referendum. In the ten days before the referen- dum, a group calling itself Citizens for Better Education attacked the contract, distorting and confusing the facts and focusing all anti-school sentiment on a no vote. The PTA’s and the teachers worked hard with the board, and the contract’ passed by 37 votes out of 3,600 cast.

After six months I have more ques- tions than wisdom on the subject of paying teachers:

e Should salaries be negotiated in- dependently by each district, or is a state-wide contract, like Kentucky’s, wiser? Districts would still be free to compete in other ways.

e Is the NEA-AFT opposition to merit pay realistic? How can we reward our best teachers to keep them in the classroom?

e Is it wise for board members to negotiate? We are a policy-making body, with contract implementation carried out by a professional staff of administrators. At times the teachers, the board, and the administrators form an eternal triangle.

e How can priorities be assigned to negotiable items which definitely affect the classroom situation, prop- erly matters of policy? Class size, teacher aides, and supervisory duties are vital issues, both at the bargain- ing table and in the policy book.

e Can “volunteer” boards of edu- cation, classically overworked and under-appreciated, provide a focus for