Going About the Business of Saving Lives.

We all have our routine morning rituals. For me, it's lying in bed listening to the early morning news reports. Sometimes I listen closely. Other times I allow the words and images to wash over me as I reflect on the day ahead.

But one morning a few months back I was stunned by what I heard--stunned to the point of not being able to get out of bed for several minutes. We've all heard the so-called "startling statistics." But what I heard that morning left me cold. The reporter was saying that as many as 60 percent of the youth incarcerated in this country are African American, and most of that group is male. He went on to report that 13 percent are Hispanic, 8 percent are Asian and 19 percent are white.

As I lingered in bed, I did the math--nearly 75 percent of all kids in jail today are African-American or Hispanic.

Hearing those numbers, I recalled Gen. Colin S. Powell once say, simply and profoundly, that the education of our children is a matter of life and death. This statement fundamentally altered my perspective on teaching.

For the first time, I understood that while I have a mission to ensure that children can read at or above grade level by grade three, it's really not about 8-year old Johnny reading at the 3rd-grade-level. The real issue is what 28-year old John will be doing because he could or could not read at the 3rd-grade-level. I coupled in my mind the news report I'd just heard with Gen. Powell's words to realize that educators are not just in the reading or math or science business. We are very much in the business of saving lives.

If educators truly believe in the bigger mission--rather than simply teaching or providing enrichment or socialization or recreation--this view will determine forever the way we think about our work, talk about our work and do our work.

Believing that we are in the business of saving lives will influence dramatically how and with whom we spend our time, what we will tolerate and what we will let slide.

As school administrators, we routinely face tough, child-centered decisions. Every time we make a change that is good for children, we ask or demand that others give something up, do things differently or be more accountable. People fight back. They don't want to change. It takes courage on our part to take that kind of beating day in and day out.

We all know that this can be difficult and extremely challenging work. However, once we truly understand and hold tight to the resolve that we are in the business of saving lives, the distractions melt away.

If we believe that we are in the business of saving Johnny's life, we will do all we can to do just that. We will make sure Johnny stays awake during class and teach him social survival rules and skills. We will do makeup work with him during our lunchtime and free periods and visit his parents at home. We will teach him constructive ways of expressing his anger and talk to him in quiet tones to avoid demeaning him. We will protect him while he learns to value his own and learning.

And, yes, we also will teach Johnny to read well, not because it's our job, but because jails are full of Johnnys who cannot read and it's impossible for them to find meaningful work if they cannot read. We will teach Johnny to read well because he always will feel a certain shame about himself if he cannot read and will be at the mercy of others. We will teach him to read well because the education of Johnny is a matter of life or death.

It's Our Business

I don't often wax biblical in my education dialogue, but the oft-quoted verse of Luke 12:48 resonates: "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."

As administrators of the schools that affect this nation's most vulnerable children in so many ways, to the very point of life and death, an enormous responsibility has been placed upon us. Increasingly, more is being asked of us. This awesome charge demands a tremendous personal sacrifice. Many of us ask ourselves, "Why me?" I offer this countering question: "If not us, then who?"

For me, as a superintendent in a large urban district, it's the second question, coupled with my conviction that I am engaged in a life-or-death situation, that causes me to get out of bed each morning refreshed and focused, ready to be about the business of saving Johnny's life.

Rosa Smith, a member of the AASA Executive Committee, is superintendent of the Columbus Public Schools