RealClearEd Today 06/02/2014: Criticism Over Jindal's Failure to Disclose
Good morning, it's Monday June 2 -- the first working day of June. This morning at RealClearEducation we have news, commentary, analysis, and reports at the top of the education world. Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal is facing criticism after he wrote a column for the Washington Examiner last week backing for-profit colleges in a fight with the Obama administration, but simultaneously failing to disclose his brother's ties to the institutions. In Oklahoma, Gov. Mary Fallin is on a week-long deadline to veto or sign a bill that would make her state the latest to repeal the Common Core. Below you will see just a few highlights of what's on the main part of our site this morning and, as always, there is additional content organized by key issue areas on our sidebar.
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On this date in 1835 P.T. Barnum officially entered show business with his first show. In Manhattan he began working with Joice Heth, an elderly African-American woman who claimed to be more than 160 years old and to have been a nanny to a young George Washington. "Unquestionably the most astonishing and interesting curiosity in the world!" is how Barnum billed it, and after paying Heth $1,000, they traveled to cities in the northeast making about $1,500 a week with their act.
Early in his career, Barnum became adept at finding struggling acts like Heth, repackaging them and making them profitable. For instance, an acrobat who could spin plates named Signor Antonio was reinvented as Signor Vivalla and was soon making $50 a night in small theaters. It was while he was traveling with "Vivalla" that Barnum encountered his first traveling circus. Barnum never said "a sucker is born every minute" but he did say that "every crowd has a silver lining" and he went on to prove that in the circus business. His Ringling Bros. biography reports that his last words in 1891 were, "Ask Bailey what the box office was at the Garden last night."
Some of Barnum's shows could be exploitative but others made subtle political points. Barnum claimed to not like politics but he went into that business anyway. He served in the Connecticut legislature and as mayor of Bridgeport, though an early bid for congress was not successful. In the legislature he advocated for passage of the 13th Amendment. He also sponsored an anti-contraception law that remained on the books until it was challenged in the landmark Griswold v. Connecticut case that laid the groundwork for Roe v. Wade and other privacy cases. As mayor, he helped modernize the infrastructure of Bridgeport - he knew what citizens wanted whether it was under the big top or on their streets. He also founded and led a hospital.
In education, Barnum was a generous benefactor to Tufts University and a founding trustee of the school. The Jumbo mascot of Tufts was the result of a donation of the stuffed elephant from Barnum. That elephant had wandered onto train tracks and been killed. It was on display at Tufts for almost a century until a 1975 fire destroyed it. He also donated the money that founded the Department of Natural History at Tufts.
Barnum is also a reminder of the timeless power of showmanship. But you can't look at today's education debate and not wonder whether we have too much showmanship and not enough substance. The national conversation about schools too often seems like an effort to score points in a debate or part of a big show rather than an effort to improve an important educational institution. Willful misinformation abounds. Teachers' union leaders live in the Hamptons but travel the country attacking the "1 percent." And too many in the education reform community seem blind to the complicated realities of delivering public education to the diverse set of students schools are charged with educating today.
Barnum knew the difference between a good show and getting something done. In the education sector, do we?
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