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Published Tuesday, |
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We'll just use those jail cells as classroomsToo few classrooms. Too much prison space. You wonder how Florida legislators kept from stumbling over the irony.But the 1996 legislative session ended last week with hardly more than a nod toward the state's school crowding crisis. Actually, the Legislature only declined to allocate public money toward building new schools. It did, however, pass a (constitutionally questionable) law legalizing prayer at certain public school events -- including football games. The theory is that a great chorus of prayers from public school students -- so many imploring voices from teeming portable classrooms -- will not only convince God to fix the game but will also inspire him to throw in a few nonsectarian air-conditioned, hurricane-proof school buildings. Call it divine concurrency.
A bill that would have financed new school construction by an increase in closing costs on new homes never had a prayer. It was defeated for the third straight year. Meanwhile, it appears that the crime-busting frenzy to build prisons in previous legislative sessions had succeeded rather too well. When the lawmakers considered how many millions they would allocate for new prisons this term, they discovered, to their horror, that Florida's lagging law enforcement community hasn't kept up with the trend. The state, with only a piddling 66,000 inmates, actually has a surplus of prison beds. Too few classrooms. Too much prison space. A kind of political paradox. Fortunately, the Legislature inadvertently provided an obvious solution. In between roughing up welfare mothers and sucking up to big business, the legislators raised academic standards. Kids now entering the ninth grade must maintain a C average if they ever hope to graduate from high school. Thanks to so much vacant prison space, we can now consign any student who falls below 2.0 to a shiny new state institution. ``Prison now'' would only be a slight alteration to the state's current educational philosophy of ``prison later.'' We can face up to the inevitable, get rid of mediocre students and free up needed classroom space. With a special exception, of course, for particularly gifted athletes who promise to matriculate at a large state university.
The Legislature adopted a pair of safety measures that will only complicate the crowding problem. Kids under 16 will be required to wear helmets when biking and to take a safety course. These laws will save young lives. Unfortunately, our schools needed the space. A private school voucher plan -- the conservative wing's answer to our rotting public schools -- was beaten back in the 1996 session. But this was the one session that provided dramatic proof that mere public institutions can hardly muster the necessary clout to compete in a lobbyist-dominated Legislature. At least, private, corporate-owned schools could join in the unscrupulous wining and dining of Florida's famished state representatives. The Senate voted to refuse free meals from paid lobbyists, but the House, led by Jack ``Lobster Boy'' Tobin of Margate, the largess dripping down his jowls, refused. Tobin explained, hungrily, that the rule might keep him from attending charity dinners. The only way schools can compete with floating casinos, professional sports teams, giant developers and other influence mongers in Tallahassee is to slop those hogs. Dish out the goodies. Too spare with the hors d'oeuvres, too few classrooms. |
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