Not only did the Democratic Party take control of Congress in last week's election; it also captured a majority of the nation's governorships. And not just on the coasts; Democrats Chet Culver and Bill Ritter won open seats in Iowa and Colorado, and Democratic incumbents held onto their jobs in Illinois, Wisconsin, Kansas, and Oklahoma. Now these progressive politicians need to face an uncomfortable question: What's the matter with Middle America?
What do we mean? Click here and ponder the states shown in blue. They are notable for their failure to make any (statistically significant) progress in getting poor and minority students to NAEP's "proficient" level over the past decade or more. Observe how many are in the nation's midsection. From Illinois across to Oklahoma, over to Utah and back to Wisconsin, it's an unsettling "no progress" zone that cries out for some explanation--particularly for anyone worried about the plight of disadvantaged children.
Education Week generated this map using data compiled by Fordham for our recent report, How Well Are States Educating Our Neediest Children? That study contains some good news: eight states made "moderate" progress in boosting poor/minority NAEP scores, meaning that at least two of three subgroups (African-American, Hispanic, or low-income students) gained in at least two of three subjects (reading, math, or science). These include a few each from the Northeast (Massachusetts and New York), the Mid-Atlantic (Delaware and New Jersey), the South (Florida and Texas), and the West (California and Washington). Note, though, that every one of them has a seacoast. Another 23 states, scattered around the country, made "limited" or "minimal" progress. But 13 states made no progress, almost all of them clustered in the nation's center.
Not many years ago, that's how people talked about the South. It was America's educational dead zone. Has the heartland become the "new south"? What is it about this region--a big chunk of the rust-belt and agricultural Midwest, stretching into the Mountain West--that explains its lack of academic progress by poor and minority students? Let's consider an obvious answer: demographics. It's true that many of these states have small minority populations; still, all but Montana and the Dakotas had large enough African-American or Hispanic populations for NAEP to measure--and for us to include in the study. And it's true that Illinois deserves special consideration, as it did not start participating in NAEP until 2000 in math and science and 2003 in reading. So it hasn't had much time to register progress.
But consider the others. Minnesota, Wisconsin, Missouri, and Colorado have large African-American populations in urban centers. And Iowa, Nebraska, and Utah have plenty of poor and Hispanic students. (Colorado, too, has many Hispanic youngsters.) Why aren't any of those states making academic progress with their disadvantaged students? Let's try a few societal explanations.
It's possible that black students in, say, St. Louis are worse-off than black students in, say, Houston. Minority students in the Midwest do attend schools that are more racially isolated; the Harvard Civil Rights Project reports that 26 percent of black students in the Midwest attend schools that are virtually 100 percent minority--the highest rate in the nation. Over the past twelve years, attendance in these uniracial schools has increased slightly, while in other regions it has dropped or stayed the same. On the other hand, Hispanic students in the Midwest tend to attend less-isolated schools than their peers in the rest of America.
Maybe it's the economy. The Midwest and Great Plains have been plagued of late by unemployment and depopulation. Perhaps tough times have made poor students there even poorer, deflating their achievement. It might also be the "brain drain" effect--the flight of the best-educated families and the exit of promising college graduates have left behind the most challenging students. Yet, the great symbols of industrial stagnation--Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio--are actually among the few Midwestern states whose poor or minority students have made recent academic progress.
There's one more explanation, and it's the one we put the most credence in: policy. Simply put, the "no progress" states, by and large, have refused to adopt the comprehensive education reforms that are showing results elsewhere.
Our study examined the degree to which states have embraced policies such as high standards, tough accountability, and school choice. Remember the eight states that made "moderate progress" in achievement for their poor and minority students? Five of them are also among the top ten states when it comes to education reform. California, for example, has the best academic standards and the most charter schools in the country; it has demonstrated progress for low-income and Hispanic students across all three subjects, and for black students in math. Massachusetts also boasts excellent standards, a rigorous test, and a high school exit exam; it has seen gains for black students in reading and math, and also for low-income students in math and science.
Now consider the "unlucky 13"--the "no progress" states: None is among the top ten education-reform states and just four are among the top 25. True, not all are reform wastelands. Minnesota and Wisconsin boast strong school-choice sectors, though they're hampered by weak academic standards. Colorado has decent content standards, but set the bar for No Child Left Behind at one of the lowest levels in the country. None of these states has embraced the full reform package. And states such as Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and Oklahoma--at the bottom of the school reform barrel--can't claim to be doing much of anything to help their disadvantaged students succeed. With lame (or non-existent) academic standards, few charter schools or other forms of parental choice, and only the weakest forms of (NCLB-mandated) accountability, they have taken laissez-faire to the extreme.
Why the states in this region have been so hesitant to embrace strong educational policies is a mystery, but let's consider some possibilities. Perhaps the frontier attitude of "local control" remains more firmly in place here. Perhaps high average scores have fostered complacency. Perhaps they haven't come to grips with their influx of poor Hispanic students. Or perhaps their political culture allows these predominantly-white states to ignore or marginalize the educational disasters that are unfolding in their relatively few urban cores. Whatever the reason, those attitudes are going to need to change if these states are to have any chance of economic and social renewal.
Twenty years ago, Southern governors with names like Clinton, Riley, Alexander and Hunt came to understand that education was the key to their states' shaky economic fortunes--and their dreams of a more just society. Experiencing the loss of jobs overseas, brain drain to even sunnier climates, and high unemployment rates, they and many of their peers embraced education reform as the key tor economic and social recovery. Now Heartland governors (such as Messrs. Culver, Ritter, and Doyle) have an opportunity, perhaps even an obligation, to use bold education reforms to address their states' own economic and social challenges--and to offer a brighter future to all of their children.
