Nice guys finish last

"Not only can I not characterize them," says John Nucci, who was president of a very different school committee in the late '80s. "I'm not even sure I can name them!"

On paper, the committee looks impressive. Its members are well educated, with a slew of master's degrees and PhDs among them. They're invested in the city, as heads of civic groups and human-services organizations. And they're dedicated to improving the schools: their demanding school-committee work is virtually unpaid, and they do it in addition to their full-time work. The group includes Bob Gittens, commissioner of the Department of Youth Services; Elizabeth Reilinger, CEO of Crittenton Hastings House; and Felix Arroyo, executive director of the Egleston Square Neighborhood Association. (See "All-Star Lineup," right) These are the people you want choosing the school system's head honcho, approving the budget, and setting policy for the city's 125 public schools. And by all reports, they're utterly devoid of political ambition.

And yet, there's something missing. Though Thomas Payzant, the superintendent this committee chose a few years back, is well-regarded and on the right track, more and more critics agree that he's not moving fast enough. Even committee members admit this. It will take a revolution to prevent hundreds more Boston kids from graduating without mastering basic skills. And the school committee isn't pushing him hard enough.

Sure, the old days were bad: the elected school committee was seen as a stepping stone to higher office, and sometimes its members sought to build political capital on the backs of the city's children. Since the appointed committee emerged in 1991, it's concentrated exclusively on making the schools better. "This committee has spent more time focused on issues around teaching and learning," says Payzant, who has worked with four previous school boards, all elected. "In my previous experience, there seemed to be many different pulls and tugs to deal with special interests, and to be consumed with what it takes to get reelected."

But its critics charge that this school committee has been overly conciliatory, too easy on the superintendent, and neither visible nor accessible enough. That its members lack the fire -- and the political sense -- to push faster and farther-reaching reform in the city's schools.

"The problem is that they're trying to act like a board of directors in a company," says one educator. "Well, government isn't a company. You need to call a lot of things to the public's attention." For radical change, the public needs to have a stake in the schools. Parents must monitor and support their kids' progress. Voters must pressure government for resources. Folks have to get fired up.

"I supported the appointed committee," says one of this committee's most vocal critics. "But I have real reservations about it now."

School committee members admit there's a problem. From now on, they promise, the appointed committee will be pushing harder for change than it has since Payzant came to Boston. And they've just hired a new executive secretary to help them do it. The time for making nice, they say, is over.

Even his critics concede that Thomas Payzant is one hell of a superintendent. He's committed to sticking around for five years; he has a clear plan for improving the schools, starting with universal learning standards and realistic assessments; and he's preternaturally determined.

That's good, say critics, but it's not quite enough. The schools need to change more rapidly. Payzant isn't following through as well as he should on reconfiguring the school-department bureaucracy. Or moving decisively to halt the deterioration of schools like Dorchester High. Or developing assessments with teeth for teachers and administrators.

It's the committee's job to make sure Payzant is pursuing the policies they approve; so far it's been strong on support, but weaker at playing the heavy. School committee meetings are constructive affairs, where ideas are exchanged politely and many votes are unanimous. The committee approved the launch of the pilot schools (experimental schools within the Boston public school system) by consensus, without hostility or horse-trading. It helped formulate and establish the new exam-school admissions policy the same way.

But is it possible to be too civilized?

"Why aren't they asking for schools to be closed?" asks Linda Nathan, headmaster of the new Boston Arts Academy. Dorchester High has been beset by problems for a long time, and it's now in danger of losing its accreditation. "That school was headed for disaster for years," says Nathan. Yet the committee did not step in and demand radical action, opting for smaller changes that failed to stop its decline.

Similarly, Nathan and other educators criticize the school committee for dropping the ball on pilot schools. Pilots were supposed to be the leading edge of reform, freed of some union rules to allow innovations that could then be adopted in other schools. But there's been little provision for carrying pilots' lessons into the rest of the system, and most of the experimental schools are still consumed with facilities problems. Some haven't even found permanent buildings. So far, the school committee hasn't leaned on Payzant to correct those problems.

School committee members counter that they can't do everything right away, and that it's unreasonable to give Payzant grief, either. They can't pretend they're unhappy with him.

"I have no reservations whatsoever on where he's taking the system," says committee member Edwin Melendez. "Does that mean I agree with him on a hundred percent of things? Absolutely not. But this executive is exemplary."

They do disagree, says Felix Arroyo, one of the more outspoken members, but they do it with such civility that the public -- used to the high jinks of the elected committee -- doesn't notice. "We have such a full respect for each other," he says.

They also point out that they have shown backbone: on March 25, when they approved Payzant's $547 million budget, they expressed some important reservations. Payzant had saved money by proposing to cut bilingual education, move the alternative Another Course to College school out of its rented premises and into another school building, and make some high-school students pay for their own T passes. The committee rejected those cuts and told Payzant to go back and make other ones.

Taking such a stance was unusual, though. This budget, unlike previous years', was preceded by many committee meetings, some public, where members debated issues. Last year, says one committee member, the committee simply "went along with the program" Payzant presented.

Some educators say there's more behind the relative calm than realistic expectations and mutual respect: they say the school committee is simply afraid of controversy.

"It's a valid criticism that we're not critical enough," says Susan Naimark, who joined the committee in 1997. "Some of us feel that we need to be lighting the fire and creating a stronger sense of urgency. But the committee has been more averse to controversy."

Why you think that is depends on how cynical you are.

"There isn't a leader among them," says one educator. "A lot of people believe Menino deliberately doesn't appoint people who are going to question Payzant." Others suggest the committee is averse to controversy because it's eager to maintain stability, and solidarity, after years of obstructionism in education.

There's also a practical reason: good relationships get things done. Committee members feel they can't afford to alienate Payzant or the mayor. "We've had I don't know how many superintendents in this district in the last decade," Elizabeth Reilinger says. "Our entire budget is a line item in the city's budget. If we don't take the time to build collaborative relationships, we'll be struggling."

But, say the critics, they are too collaborative. An example: last December 3, Critical Friends, an education watchdog group, released a report on the status of the schools after two years of Payzant's tenure. It was mostly negative -- calling his progress too slow, taking him to task for not hiring good teachers and administrators, and criticizing him for not involving the community enough in reform efforts. On the same day, the school committee released its own evaluation -- largely positive -- as a counterpoint. Some committee members insist their evaluation had been in the works for months and had little to do with Critical Friends. Others concede that while the report may have been in the works for a long time, the timing of its release was a direct result of the Critical Friends' report.

"Do we agree with some of the issues the Critical Friends raised?" says Reilinger. "Yes. But it's easy to do a hit-and-run routine from outside. [Payzant's plan to change Boston's schools] is a five-year program. Everybody wants a quick fix."

Still, Reilinger concedes that the committee needs to lean harder on Payzant.

"Do I think we're on the right path?" she asks. "Absolutely. Do we need to rev it up? Absolutely. The honeymoon is over for the superintendent. We need to now move in and push for some more changes."

But to push effectively, the school committee has to be more political. The elected committee had constituents to hold over the mayor's and superintendent's heads. The appointed committee has nothing but moral force.

"The elected school committee used to jump into the newspapers or onto the six o'clock news, for better or worse, screaming about the system's woes," says Nucci. "It was good politics, but it also ended up highlighting issues that needed addressing."

This group of people is far more retiring than any committee before them.

"This is not a body that collectively presents any kind of visible leadership or dynamism about where the system is going," says Mary Ellen Smith, of Critical Friends. "We're revolutionizing public education, and they should be carrying the flag for this."

The committee's critics are convinced that the biggest changes won't come to the schools unless members "scream and yell." When Dorchester High began sliding, they say, the committee should have spoken out, forcing the superintendent -- and the city -- to redirect resources to the school, pull the most troubled kids out earlier, even turn it into a pilot or close it altogether.

Sometimes, grandstanding is what works. The Harbor School, a pilot middle school, was unable to get the department to commit to its opening last year, until educators launched a media campaign. Similarly, it was political pressure -- led by parents -- that finally made the long-awaited Boston Arts Academy a reality. Somebody has to be the jerk, and sometimes, that somebody should be on the school committee.

For better or worse, the elected committee got folks fired up about education. Its members spent plenty of time in the neighborhoods, and they served constituents as a point of contact with the schools. That created a culture of patronage that is the bane of the department even today ("I can't tell you how many times politicians have come up to us and asked why we can't just hire these 20 teachers," says Reilinger). And committee members often found themselves cutting red tape for voters rather than formulating policy. But they made constituents feel as though the schools were theirs.

To be sure, appointed committee members, with full-time jobs, have little time to court the public. Some of them do get to the schools, and intervene on certain issues. But all would concede there's room for improvement. "If you're not elected, there's not the same pressure to go out and let people know what you're doing," says Naimark. "We should do that anyway, and give people a stake in the public schools."

Payzant agrees. "I'm not satisfied," he says. "And I don't think the committee is satisfied with the level of engagement from parents. We're working hard to get more."

In fact, when Naimark first became a school committee member last year, she sent letters to the parent councils at Boston's 125 schools, offering to come and meet with them. "People told me I was crazy to do it," she says. Still, fewer than 10 councils actually accepted her offer.

The school committee is trying to become more accessible. Naimark and Arroyo host a weekly cable access call-in show. Reilinger has stepped up the number of full committee meetings each month from one or two to three or four. Public comment sessions have been moved up in agendas so that folks don't have to wait around too long to have their say. And special open meetings are held on important issues, such as the budget.

And the committee has just hired a new executive secretary, former Menino speechwriter Christopher Horan, for whom members have high hopes. Horan will brief the committee members on policy so that they'll be better equipped to debate Payzant's proposals -- and more enterprising with their own suggestions. He'll make sure the committee offices are more welcoming for the public. He worked hard to make Menino look good, and he'll be taking all that experience to the job of making the school committee look good, too.

He should rest up.

Yvonne Abraham can be reached at yabraham[a]phx.com.