Decision Points

Texas. He had spent almost forty years on Capitol Hill; I was relatively new to town.

    With Senator Ted Kennedy in early 2001.
White House/Eric Draper
    Ted and I did share what Laura called the family business. My grandfather Prescott Bush had represented Connecticut in the Senate at the same time John F. Kennedy had represented Massachusetts. Laura and I enjoyed meeting Ted’s wife, Vicki; son Patrick, a congressman from Rhode Island; and niece Kathleen Kennedy Townsend , the lieutenant governor of Maryland, along with her daughter Kate.
    Ted was friendly, gracious, and full of life. He had the trademark Kennedy accent and a great Irish glow. His smile came easily and often gave way to a big, warm laugh. I felt a connection to history as we watched a movie about how his brothers had defused a crisis from the West Wing.
    The movie hadn’t been my only purpose for inviting Ted. He was the ranking Democrat on the Senate committee that drafted education legislation. He had sent signals that he was interested in my school reform proposal, No Child Left Behind.
    Ted and I were both appalled by the results coming from our public schools. In the competitive global economy, good jobs demanded knowledge and skills. But American students routinely trailed their peers in key subjects. On an international math test comparing twenty-one countries, America’s high school seniors placed ahead of only Cyprus and South Africa.
    Part of the problem was that millions of children were shuffled from one grade to the next without anybody asking what they had learned. Many came from poor and minority backgrounds. In 2000, nearly70 percent of fourth-graders from high-poverty backgrounds couldn’t read at grade level. Some 40 percent of minority students failed to finish high school in four years. How could a society that promised equal opportunity for all quit on its neediest citizens? Starting in the 2000 campaign I had called the problem “the soft bigotry of low expectations.” I had promised to take on the big issues. This was sure one of them.
    In recent years, the national education debate had bogged down in modest proposals like school uniforms and unrealistic calls to abolish the Department of Education. Success was often defined by dollars spent, not results achieved. I had come from a world where accountability was a daily reality. In baseball , any interested party can open the newspaper, analyze your performance in a box score, and demand change. “More pitching, Bush!” was a familiar refrain. Education was a lot more important than baseball, yet most people had no idea how their schools were performing.
    As governor, I worked with the legislature to pass a law requiring schools to test students on the basics every year, report the results publicly, and allow parents to transfer their children out of underperforming schools. Between 1994 and 1998, the percentage of third-graders performing at grade level grew from 58 to 76. Minority students showed the largest gains, closing the achievement gap with their white peers.
    When I ran for president, I decided to propose federal legislation that set clear goals—every child would learn to read and do math at grade level—and held schools accountable for progress. Under No Child Left Behind, states would test students in reading and math every year between third and eighth grade, and once in high school. Schools would post scores publicly, broken down by ethnicity, income level, and other subcategories. The data would allow parents and concerned citizens to evaluate schools, teachers, and curricula. Schools that scored below standards would receive extra help at first, including money for students to attend after-school tutoring, public or private. But if schools repeatedly failed to make adequate progress, there would be consequences. Parents would have the option to transfer their child to a better-performing public or charter school. The principle was straightforward: You cannot solve a problem until you diagnose it. Accountability would serve as a catalyst for reform.
    I highlighted No Child Left Behind at almost every campaign event, including the NAACP convention. I told reporters I hoped to be known as “the education president.” I told Ted Kennedy the same thing the night we watched
Thirteen Days
. “I don’t know about you, but I like to surprise people,” I said. “Let’s show them Washington can still get things done.”
    The next morning, a letter