Floor Play

If you’re just joining us at the State Board of Education’s day of public testimony on its new proposed curriculum standards, please don’t worry. The pace is glacial. In three house of testimony Wednesday morning, the board only heard 10 speakers—out of well over 200 scheduled. It may be a long day, and even then, it’s pretty unlikely that even half the witnesses will come up. And we thought the emotional tone was already high.

Since some of the heaviest hitters came first (whether by design or fortune is unclear), board members seized every opportunity to make a point, generally through intense questioning of each witness. Rod Paige, former US Secretary of Education, came to lobby against the current curriculum standards. “What our students are taught in history should not be the hand maiden of our personal … or political ideologies,” he said. “History is what it is whether it’s fair or unfair.” Ultimately, he asked for the board to postpone the standards vote for more testimony. Fun.

Christian conservative state House members Dan Flynn and Wayne Christian came next, out of order thanks to “professional courtesy.” They, like Paige, proclaim themselves “pro-fairness,” but not so shockingly, that didn’t equate in their minds with being pro-postponement. “At some point you have to make a decision and it’s time to move the process forward,” Flynn told the board. The board’s Democrats questioned whether the minority representation in the standards effectively highlighted issues of discrimination. That led Flynn to a rather surprising identification with the oppressed. As someone of Irish descent, he said, “I listen to all the discrimination that was put upon the Irish people.”

Then came the national president of the NAACP, Ben Jealous. He may not have had much familiarity with the Texas curriculum, but then again, his presence seemed to be the big thing (at least from his perspective). Jealous said that “no one could recall” the last time a national president came to such a meeting. You can imagine just how excited the board was to have him there. The social conservative members drilled Jealous on his knowledge of Texas’ standards, prompting board member Rick Agosto to defend the witness.

And that, my friends, was the only surprising part of this whole thing so far.

Agosto, a Democrat who sometimes votes with the social conservatives, seems to have found a more liberal voice. During his tenure, Agosto’s been plagued with ethical questions and he’s often given the seven social conservatives their eighth (and majority) vote. But he’s stepping down now, and low and behold, he’s speaking openly about what he calls the “unacceptable” nature of the standards. “We’re fighting every single bit to have accurate history,” he told Rep. Christian.

All the discussion has kept the board to a plodding pace. Don McLeroy, the controversial (and outgoing) social conservative board member, finds himself the voice of the room’s masses. Every so often, he’ll interrupt the questioning to note the time. “These other people deserve to be heard,” he said this morning to applause. Thanks Dr. McLeroy. Revved up for Round 2?

Tomorrow, when the social studies fights begin and various members draw lines in the culture-war sand, it will be hard to remember that today even happened. It was one of those rare moments when no one really wanted to watch the State Board of Education. Unlike tomorrow when the room will bulge with people, today the press table was almost empty most of the day, as were the hundreds of folding chairs. And the board worked together to problem solve.

Funnily enough, their decisions this afternoon will likely lead to much broader implications for Texas students than the crowd-pleasing minutiae of the social studies curriculum.

You see, we’re in a bit of dilemma. First there’s the simple fact that the new science textbooks covering the new curriculum standards (remember all that evolution fighting?) will cost $400 million total. The budget’s already sinking like the Titanic, and the legislature is already expecting a bill for almost $900 million to pay for the new English/Language Arts textbooks  and continuing contracts.

Can’t we just put off those new science books? you say. Well, not exactly. Thanks to House Bill 3 from last session, the state will start implementing end-of-course exams. Starting in the 2011 school year (Aug 2011-May 2012), those exams will be on the new science standards. And those new science standards aren’t in any of the books.

Uh-oh.

“We’ve never been faced with this particular set of circumstances all at the same time,” one of the Education Agency officials pleaded to the board.

There’s the simplest option—postponing the new science standards until there’s money to test kids on them. But that leaves the science curriculum open to attack from the board members who weren’t so happy with it originally. (Plus the incoming members don’t seem eager to worship at the culture-war altar and may be all too eager to take out some of the more exciting standards.)

So that leaves few other options. Limiting the new books to just high school didn’t seem to work—it would still cost over $120 million. On all sides, the board members seemed committed to figuring out at least a stop-gap measure. “We certainly have to do something to assist our students,” said Bob Craig, the moderate Republican from Lubbock. “To do nothing and just push everything back from my perspective is not a solution.”

And further more, everyone seemed to band together in the face of an untrustworthy (in their eyes) legislature. “We send the bill over,” said Geraldine “Tincy” Miller, a longstanding incumbent who just lost her seat for next term, “and we’ve learned the hard way that the legislature, they’re the kings and the queens and they don’t have to [pay] … Okay? We learned the hard way.”

So, just like that, David Bradley, one of the board’s most powerful social conservatives, pushed for a simple solution: supplemental materials to cover the gaps between the textbooks and the new curriculum standards.
And just like that, the decision was made.

Even getting into logistics didn’t prompt a fight. The board had to decide if the supplemental materials would be textbook specific (in other words, book X would have supplement X, book Y, supplement Y) or if one generic supplement would do. The former and current teachers on the board pushed for the tailored approach, but discussion ultimately led to Don McLeroy, famous for creating controversy, winning the board over with the generic idea by emphasizing simplicity.

But don’t think this happy moment is likely to last. The irony was there all along—congenial discussions about science books after the board almost tore itself apart debating the place of evolution in science. When Bradley asked one TEA official if any old textbooks might happen to include all the new standards, she was wry:
“Some of your student expectations are brand-new. They’re not currently in anyone’s textbooks.”

As the buzz continues about this week’s State Board of Education meeting (which I’ll be covering here), it brings to mind one incontrovertible truth: This board is not boring. We can’t know if this meeting will lead to members storming out in protest or to a debate on the importance of country versus hip-hop music. But with a closely divided board—seven Christian conservatives, a couple of occasional swing votes and all the vitriol one could hope for—the meeting to confirm social studies standards will almost definitely send up sparks.

My advice? Enjoy the fun while it lasts, because soon these meetings may be about as exciting as, well, every other governmental agency meeting.

Yes, peace could soon reign around Texas’ biggest culture-war circus. Last week, at an SBOE candidate forum sponsored by the Texas Business and Education Coalition, the incoming replacements for several members who have already lost or resigned their seats presented themselves to the education community. Their goal? A de-politicized board, they said—one that trusts the education establishment. Without a single incumbent there to defend the current board (though all those running were invited), the new candidates all spoke of the need for a calmer tone at future meetings.

That effort will be aided by the departure of Don McLeroy, the ultra-conservative lightning rod who ignited many of the board’s most controversial moments (he led the fight for adding language about the “strengths and weaknesses of evolution” into science textbooks, and has been featured everywhere from the New York Times to Al Jazeera). McLeroy lost his seat in the GOP primary. And then there’s Cynthia Dunbar, a McLeroy supporter whose book refers to public schools as “a subtly deceptive tool of perversion.” She announced she wouldn’t run again a few months ago, but she still got her close-up in the British Guardian, part of the international press having a jolly time with this story of Texas’ backward tendencies. Dunbar’s seat will now belong to either Republican Marsha Farney or Democrat Judy Jennings (now facing a runoff). Both of them have Ph.d.’s in education.

“I want to vote for all of them!” Farney gushed at one point, gesturing to the others on the podium. It wasn’t entirely shocking. Ratliff sounded a lot like Farney, who sounded, well, a lot like Democrat Michael Soto.

Soto and Republican George Clayton are two other likely additions to the board—both replacing social conservative swing votes. Soto will likely take over from Rick Agosto, a Democrat with many enemies and even more ethics questions who sometimes voted with the conservatives on curricular issues.

Soto nodded in agreement with others on the incoming board, as they all reassured the crowd that, in its next incarnation, the board wouldn’t provoke headlines on The Colbert Report.

“The board doesn’t have a structural problem, it has a personality problem,” Ratliff told the assembled crowd, which included the major teachers groups and the Texas PTA.

The only nominee not ready to hold hands and sing Kumbaya was George Clayton, a Dallas high school teacher, who went from being a political unknown to a celebrated dark horse when he beat a long-time incumbent Geraldine “Tincy” Miller. He was angry and let it show. But he wasn’t angry about the education establishment or who was included in the standards. Nope. He just wants to lobby for fewer TAKS tests. On the curriculum squabbling, he simply said, “Those things do not come into [my school] building.”

Oh. Well then.

Clayton, Soto, Ratliff and either Farney or Jennings will take office in January. They promise they’ll make the board a lot more functional and a lot less, well, funny. But there’s always the chance they’ll start picking fights and choosing sides once they join up. After all, joining the board does seem to have that effect on people.

Please, someone find the DJ for Rick Perry’s commercials and book him for your next party. Or Bill White’s.

The latest Perry attack ad is up on YouTube, on the LiberalBillWhite channel, and it’s another reminder of why the Perry camp seems to have it together. It feels like they’re having some fun over there. This ad combines old-timey train crashes, funny Bill White expressions and—is that Ozzy Osbourne? Why yes, yes it is.

While the Rs rock out, White’s people offer us this video of White talking about the State Board of Education. This is the second most-watched video on his YouTube channel after that one of him talking behind a white (get it?) background. That’s the best joke yet and I made it!

Purple Texas devotees will already have read Bob Moser’s arguments that White has failed to package Perry in any effectively negative light. So far, they’ve presented their case in a rational and straightforward manner, but that’s just not as catchy as “Crazy Train.” Jokes are memorable—and they get people excited. In the wise words of Ben & Jerry’s, “If it’s not fun, why do it?” It beats a well-intentioned scowl any day. Or maybe I’m the only one who wants trains blowing up.

Over at the Tribune, Democratic consultant Jason Stanford (who ran that losing Chris Bell race four years ago) offered White’s folks some suggestions for a sharper attack—logo-ed bullet-proof vests in the wake of coyote-gate being the most memorable. For their sake, I hope someone on the White campaign is coming up with some tchotchke ideas, or at least a soundtrack that’s more than Bill White’s monotone. I understand that some candidates (and campaigns) take a more serious approach, but it’s only May and they’re going to need to find a way to sustain enthusiasm from now till November. Somehow, I doubt more Bill White family photos are going to be enough to pose a real threat.

After all, just to get pumped about writing this post, I watched the Perry ad Leader. Admit it: That’s some perfect montage music.

Abby Rapoport

Gov. Rick Perry and GOP House candidate Charles Perry (no relation) pose for photos at one of three concurrent Austin Club fundraisers for three Tea Party candidates.

I arrived at the Austin Club Monday to meet three high profile Tea Party candidates for state House, all of whom emerged from their GOP primaries victorious. The setting was odd enough: The club sits in on old opera house, and I associate its clientele with the carefully coiffed and well-dressed sort of lobbyist who can flex big muscle at the Capitol, a few doors away. It’s not exactly the place you’d expect for a Tea Party, but hey, I thought, the chandeliers are nice.

It’s strange enough to meet grassroots candidates in a center of establishment politics. But much more surprising was the receiving line waiting to welcome the “every-man” candidates to their new political home: Everyone from the governor and the Speaker of the House to the head of the state Republican party came to meet these Tea Party-ers. It was a reception that many a long-time incumbent couldn’t dream of getting—and these three hadn’t even taken office yet.

When I stumbled into one room, Rick Perry stood beaming as he clamped the newly nominated Charles Perry (no relation) on the back and shot the wind with the lobbyists and staffers in the room. In the small room lit with chandeliers, he demanded that I photograph him with the new candidate; he had me take pictures with and without flash, and even fiddled with the camera to ensure the settings were optimal. Before the governor arrived, Charles Perry had offered the new state Republican Party Chair Cathie Adams his services stumping around the state, and then self-deprecatingly muttered something about his lack of political skill. Adams, who established her conservative bonafides as head of the Texas chapter of Phyllis Schlafly’s Eagle Forum, shook her head. “You have a lot of credibility,” she told him.

The GOP brass seems eager to make the Tea Party welcome—and tie the knots now between the party and the candidates. If the new movement continues to gain strength and turn out voters, it will become increasingly important to keep those new activists within the establishment’s reach. Trailing in funds throughout much of the race, Charles Perry did pull an impressive victory in Lubbock against long-time incumbent Delwin Jones, and with no general election opponent, he was relaxed as lobbyists and consultants chatted with him about the current state of affairs.

His two compatriots, who held their fundraisers in rooms next door and upstairs, also saw a steady stream of visitors. Nominee David Simpson had a similar story to Perry: after getting drafted to run by local Tea Party groups, he came almost out of nowhere to beat another longtime incumbent and Longview fixture in Tommy Merritt.  He also can relax without a Democrat to challenge him in the general. John Frullo, the third musketeer, is Rep. Carl Isett’s chosen successor and the only one of the three with a general election opponent, though few predict serious competition.

Simpson, who I had met when I covered his race in Longview, seemed just as shy as he had on the campaign trail. A devout Christian with seven children and a timber business, he spent his campaign going door-to-door and sitting in coffee shops looking for those who might want to discuss his love for the Constitution. He assured me he would always vote his mind and not just go along with the his party. He had already talked to other representatives, he said, about his “desire for freedom.” (It’s a term he uses a lot.)
It seems clear, however, that those in the party hope his desires will correspond with their platform—and that these new nominees will help deliver a wider Tea Party vote. “These are not upset races,” the governor had proclaimed to those of us milling around Charles Perry’s room. “They might have been [in the past]. None of these elections surprise me at all.”

The party seems to be embracing the new results—no tears were shed for the old incumbents. Those at the event expressed no qualms with Tea Party message, for all its negative press and the minority voters it may likely alienate. The candidates who campaigned on messages of cleaning up and cutting government waste must now come to terms with the establishment they’re going to have to join, at least to some extent.  
Tom Pauken, who did much to build the Texas social conservative movement in the ’90s as GOP chair, made a beeline to congratulate Perry. He’s also hoping the Tea Party folks spell change for the state’s Republican Party even if the primaries didn’t yield more Tea Party candidates. “It’s a bit unfocused, it’s a bit chaotic,” he told Charles Perry and myself, “but it’s the most powerful populist [movement] in my lifetime.”

But then populism can look a little different under the light of chandeliers.