Mission creep: Maybe we should stop calling them schools

With the recent release of The Nation’s Report Card that revealed catastrophic results in math and reading for America’s 4th and 8th graders, it’s fair to say that America’s schools are largely failing at their most basic mission. And now that the Trump administration has announced a 50 percent reduction in force at the Department of Education and taken explicit action in an executive order to unwind the cabinet-level agency as a whole, it seems like the perfect time to ask some very basic questions about the current state of school in America.

The mission creep of American schools is undeniable, and if we’re being brutally honest, too many schools have become one-stop social services hubs that also teach a little reading and math on the side. Instead of maintaining a focus on academics, schools are stretched to the breaking point, in part because of federal and state mandates and in part because they have been captured by an ideology that demands that every single student’s need be met before any teaching or learning can occur.

Schools used to be institutions of academic instruction, designed to equip students with the knowledge and skills necessary to become good citizens, prepared to meaningfully participate in a free society. But somewhere along the way, we decided that schools should also become social service hubs that cater to all the needs of students and families and aspire to fix societal problems that extend far beyond education. It seems fair —and even overdue —to seriously ask if it makes sense to continue using the word “school” to describe educational institutions that are also expected (or required!) to provide breakfast, lunch and snack, host immunization clinics, offer wrap-around health services, provide counseling, address declining mental health, disrupt the “school to prison pipeline,” supervise toothbrushing, teach financial literacy and host drag queen story hour.

Putting aside the merits of the services listed for a moment—which vary widely—the question I’m asking is whether or not it’s reasonable or wise to expect a school to do all of these things. And does the answer to that question change in the context of our abysmal student outcomes in the basics? We have more students scoring in the lowest category in math and reading — “below basic” —now than we did thirty years ago; it is not hyperbole to say that we are in a crisis and instead of talking about that, we are arguing over universal school lunch, social emotional learning curriculum and the need for more counselors in schools.

But kids can’t learn if they’re hungry! That’s not the point. The question is whether or not breakfast and lunch (and snack!) should be provided and distributed every day by the school and funded by the American taxpayer from kindergarten through 12th grade.

Maybe the answer is yes. Maybe it isn’t. But let’s at least talk about it.

The same question applies to the rest of the responsibilities schools have taken on, or had foisted upon them by the powers that be. Should it be a priority for a school district to hire more counselors to address students’ mental health? Should teachers be expected to watch for and identify signs of “trauma?” Is the school the best place for a flu shot clinic? Should school districts sign expensive contracts with “social emotional learning” (SEL) vendors and require teachers to incorporate SEL into the daily schedule? Should a school be hosting drag shows or other events to celebrate Pride Month?

And then there is the disturbing trend of school boards, administrators, and teachers deciding that it’s their job to teach the “correct” perspectives on politics and social issues to the captive audience of students in their care. As school districts spend more time and resources on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, literacy and numeracy outcomes decline. School officials assume the role of moral arbiter with regard to national stories, political candidates, and opinions on hotly contested questions, often with no regard to student agency or the parents’ values. It is not uncommon to see elementary-aged children marching around outside of their school holding signs they made about climate change, Black Lives Matter, and immigration. During Pride Month, rainbows blanket school bulletin boards and hallways. Is any of that appropriate for a publicly funded school?

The consequences of this mission creep are clear. As schools take on more non-academic responsibilities and push specific ideologies on kids, academic achievement suffers and parent resentment grows. Meanwhile, teachers—who entered the profession to teach—find themselves drowning in obligations far afield from their expertise, including the expectation that they behave like activists at work.

And while a huge number of elites have, for some inexplicable reason, decided to glom on to the luxury belief that the traditional role of schooling is “problematic,” Rick Hess of the American Enterprise Institute is right when he says that “ensuring that students are numerate, literate, and academically successful is priority one for schools. It’s their unique responsibility and something they can actually do.”

If schools are not willing or able to do a much better job at fulfilling this unique responsibility, perhaps it’s time we call them something else.