The Cult of the Test Score
March 6, 2000
Though it definitely has its flaws, the notion of ranking schools statewide according to standardized test scores can be one of many useful tools in diagnosing and addressing problems at public schools. Recent problems of not accounting for low-income students aside, the idea behind the Academic Performance Index (API) should be preserved as a first step toward improving the status quo and correcting problems.
That said, the Fremont School Board’s decision to redraw school boundaries, thereby changing the student makeup at down-stream schools, could undermine the initial purpose of the API by allowing rerouted students with higher Stanford 9 test scores to contribute to higher school rankings. Intentional or unintentional, the movement of higher achieving students into lower-ranking schools could lead to the glossing over of the underlying, fundamental problems that caused the school to rank lower in the first place. If schools see an increase in their API ranking, they will also lose the urgency of reform that is necessary to rebuild a lagging school.
Parents have evidently put much faith in API rankings and so too have real estate companies who use the indexes to determine the value of a house. And the potential is there for politicians to point to increased scores as a credible measure of their own success in improving education. As a result, actions merely raising the suspicion of the school board trying to apply cosmetic fixes to a school hierarchy will contribute to the already potent “cult of the test score.” The API index then loses its usefulness, as it gets caught in a tug-of-war between parties who cherish rankings more than substantive structural improvements.
It cannot be determined whether an anti-Asian bias is involved in the Fremont School Board’s decision, but opposition to the redrawing will not succeed based on that accusation alone. As the Lowell High School example has shown, determinations of racial bias and discrimination polarize debates over reforms, leaving those on both sides of the debate with nothing more than shrill arguments of racism.
While the school board may or may not have intended the school boundary redrawing to act as a band-aid for low API rankings, the subsequent results will only obstruct the ultimate goal of improving children’s education in California.
Scholarship Season for High School Seniors
March 6, 2000
By Loan Kim Ly
Since when did a giant binder filled with papers neatly tucked inside plastic inserts become the key to your future? Since when did an office, which consists of many “mini” offices become a place you visited four days a week? Since when did an essay you wrote become your link to a higher education?
Scholarship season of course. It comes around during your senior year and hits you almost like the wave that marks the coming of the high tide. (You know it’s coming yet you are hesitant to react.)
You enter the yellow carpeted office, make a left at the first opening, pass up the first door and enter a room with signs that say, “Financial Aid Nights,” “College Fair,” “Career Opportunities” and “Be All You Can Be.”
Behind a pile of paperwork and a computer that never sleeps, is a sweet, patient senior-class counselor. In the corner of your eye you see that binder, wide open and lying flat out on a circular table. You say, “hello,” and proceed to what has become your daily routine. In almost a mechanical manner you plop your backpack, which by the way, weighs 20 pounds, sit down in the hard, blue plastic chair and begin flipping through the binder.
Insert # 1
“Whoa,” you think to yourself. “I qualify for this.” But this is only the beginning. There are hundreds of other opportunities contained within this binder.
Insert # 2
You read through another scholarship in a very excited manner but are disappointed because it requires your parents work for a company you’ve never heard of.
Insert # 25
Halfway through and so far you qualify for most of the scholarships — and here’s another one you’re eligible for.
Flipping through the binder, you notice that most of the scholarships require one to be of a minority race, from a low income family, involved in the community and other extra curricular activities, and be an above average student, if not outstanding.
For some seniors, myself included, having a job, going out, and anticipating prom night, made senior year sound like a breeze. However, one week into school and we were reminded of what was expected of us: the senior project, a 45-hour internship, college, scholarships, financial aid and all the other gradation requirements.
For some seniors who have no problems facing deadlines, this comes as no shock. For others it’s one tough ride. Still, almost all of us are ready to ride the roller coaster, as we anticipate nomination, rejection and acceptance letters.
The hardest part is the wait. It’s a period seniors totally fear, as each day they anxiously await the mailman. The best one could hope for is a big, fat envelope.
There’s also a period during which many seniors feel like giving up. Rejections and hand cramps from tediously filling out applications make it seem as if all efforts were useless.
Still, there comes that moment when all those hours of community service, extra-curricular activities, homework and cramming paid off.
“Mom, did I get any mail today?”
“Yeah, you did but I didn’t open it this time.”
Hmmm…that’s a change. As you walk toward the kitchen you can’t help but have negative thoughts. As you reach the doorway, you spy a huge envelope lying unopened on the kitchen table. It looks much different from the thin envelopes received before that were stuffed with one-page letters that read, “We would like to thank you for applying but…”
Rushing to open the large envelope before you, you find that you’ve made it to the final round for a scholarship. The next day at school you are practically glowing as you enter that yellow carpeted room to retell the news to your counselor. And once again in a robotic manner, you flip through the key to your future.
WWBD: What Would Buddha Do?
March 6, 2000
Super Tuesday II-the Southern-fried sequel is over. The native sons have prevailed over the dead candidates. And now the real mano y mano, one-on-one bashing can begin. Bush and Gore. Gore and Bush. Can we stand eight months of this monosyllabic preppie dogfight?
For Asian Americans the days ahead will be long indeed. Because we will play a central role in the dogfight.
They’ll both be chewing us up.
The most important piece of real estate in election 2000, more important than Oval Office dalliances with cigars and interns, will be the Hsi Lai Buddhist Temple of Hacienda Heights, California near Los Angeles. Incense and straw donors.
It’s become THE main talking point.
Maria Hsia’s conviction earlier this month clinched that. Hsia was convicted March 2 of all five felony counts against her for her role in obtaining more than $100,000 for the Democrats in 1996. Of that, $55,000 was connected to the now infamous temple fund-raiser, where Hsia was charged with arranging for nuns and monks to write checks to the Democratic National Committee. In fact, they were only “straw donors,” who were reimbursed by the Temple. A big fat no-no.
Worse yet, Gore was there among the monks. On video. Does the Dukakis-in-a-tank video come to mind? Similar, but this is in a different league. Dukakis just looked silly. Gore just seemed silly AND looks like an accessory to a bona fide election crime. A made-to-order ad for George W. Bush?
But the jury’s verdict that the temple fund-raiser was illegal is one thing. Did Gore know it? He says he had no idea it was a fundraiser. Just dropping in for a little tea and lotus cakes?
It leads to other fundraising questions, like the more than 45 telephone calls Gore made from the White House to solicit donations to the Democratic Party, so-called “soft money” funds. In fact, they were “hard money” calls for the campaign. Another big no-no.
The vice president was present at a meeting when it was discussed, so he should have known about it. But when investigators questioned him, he claimed “The Iced Tea Defense.” This is when one may have been out of the room when anything incriminating is discussed because as it turned out one had conveniently consumed an enormous amount of ice tea.
It begs the question: What did Gore’s bladder know and when did it know it?
It also means he is no slacker when it comes to answering the call of nature, which I suppose makes him a bit of an environmentalist too.
But it all explains Gore’s willingness to come clean for the big battle. He admits there were mistakes made in the campaign. To the New York Times, he spoke of “going to that Buddhist temple,” and “making telephone calls from my office.”
He’s now a reformer. As Chris Matthews would say in hardball terms, Gore is “hanging a lantern on his problem.” He’s sending e-mails to George Bush, offering to get rid of the ads and the big money trappings of a major league nasty campaign. He’s offering instead the opportunity to debate! This is downright gentlemanly. A duel of words.
This should make it all go away, right?
Nope. Bush needs something made to order. And the only thing approaching scandal is this. Unfortunately, it sticks.
The day after both men went over the top to clinch their respective party’s nomination, here’s how the Washington Post characterized the VP: “Gore, once ridiculed for raising money at a Buddhist temple… offered himself as the reformer in the race.”
And then there was Bush on CNN’s Larry King Live. Bush hit on Gore’s temple engagement, then spoke about it at his own victory rally: “Al Gore can’t solve campaign finance problems when he symbolizes them.”
That’s the theme for the next eight months. By November Gore will be the new Zen mantra.
And it’s too bad. To avoid the fallout, Gore will probably spend all his time in the battle-zone states of the Midwest where he’s at home. He may come into the Silicon Valley to make some high-tech runs, but I doubt he’ll do many Asian American events.
Bush may make all the Asian American events and especially those in California. He got 26 percent of the Asian American vote in the Super Tuesday primary and is building strength in the community.
Lost in all this is poor Maria Hsia. Of all the individuals to emerge in what I call “ACDC,” otherwise known as the “Asian Campaign Donation Controversy,” Hsia was the only one to be convicted of a felony. John Huang and Charlie Trie have all plead guilty. Pauline Kanchanalak is awaiting trial. Hsia didn’t plead out. She fought it. And lost.
This is problematic for those of us who have commented on these matters. My stance has always been to not jump to conclusion and to support our campaign finance corps. The real problem has always been in the fallout from unfair media coverage and the use of xenophobia to isolate and stigmatize Asian Americans. But now the information is in, and it doesn’t look good. When the community wasn’t being overzealous and naive, it was just used. And now it’s being used again, as a nice wedge for the GOP to separate Bush and voters away from Gore.
A sentencing date has not been set, but Hsia could face a maximum of five years for each of the five counts. She could get also get probation. It’s a shame that she may be the fall person in all this. Even if Gore loses the presidency, he’ll be just fine.
After the verdict, in a passing remark to a broadcast reporter, Gore briefly acknowledged Hsia, then dismissed it by saying, “Yeah, I understand she was having some personal problems.”
This is what it means to have friends in high places. They conveniently forget you