The news has recently been filled with stories on alleged cheating on standardized tests by educators in several states. As a lifelong educator, I have been particularly aware of the reporting on the allegedly scandalous behavior of at least 35 educators in the Atlanta Public Schools and the charges Fulton County District Attorney Paul Howard brought against them.
Whether these accused individuals were motivated by fear of retribution from those above if students’ scores did not improve, by personal ambition or greed for the benefits that came with improving student test scores, or by their frustration over what they perceived to be an over-emphasis on scores, they are accused of having knowingly chosen to act in completely inappropriate ways.
These educators are being prosecuted under the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization Act for “racketeering, theft, false swearing, and making false statements.” Since the RICO Act was created to provide law enforcement with a unique and powerful tool to prosecute these engaged in heinous organized crimes, this is serious business indeed.
Often highlighted is that former APS Superintendent Beverly Hall made nearly $500,000 in bonuses during her 10-year term. The severity of these allegations led Howard to initially request $7.5 million bail — about 30 times Hall’s former annual salary of $275,000 — and to file charges that could result in up to 45 years in prison.
Over several months, Investigator Richard Hyde and Howard organized and widely publicized the charges against the APS educators. At virtually the same time, a set of parallel events were taking place in Washington.
Among the first of these events was a hearing before the Senate Banking Committee in February. When asked by one senator the last time federal regulators had pursued criminal charges against the leaders of the financial institutions most responsible for the economic crisis, the response was deafening silence.
A month later, U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder was testifying. Reluctantly, Mr. Holder allowed that there had, in fact, been no pursuit of criminal action in these cases. He went on to explain that “some of these institutions [are] so large that it does become difficult for us to prosecute them.” This led in the following days to the oft-used and openly cynical headline, “Too big to fail, too big to jail.”
The CEOs of the companies most directly implicated in inciting the economic crash received an average of $5.7 million dollars in annual individual bonuses in the years immediately following this debacle. At the same time, their actions have been estimated to have cost the U.S. economy more than $12.8 trillion . For this, regulators and prosecutors have been moved to … well, to do absolutely nothing.
We “boldly” impose the RICO Act on educators in Atlanta, whose average salary with a master’s degree would be about $45,600, for changing answers on students’ tests. We immediately terminate them, revoke their professional licenses, file serious criminal charges against them, and plead for high bail amounts and long prison sentences. In contrast, we cravenly turn a blind eye to financiers, whose average salary was more than 200 times that of the educators, for misrepresenting the risks associated with questionable and opaque investments and for making them appear safer and more profitable than they actually were.
Perhaps it says, “We believe that educating our children in ethical and professional ways is far more important than making money.” We hold educators to far higher standards than financiers because the criticality of the work they do cannot be neglected. Unfortunately, the facts get in the way. A view of the primacy of education over capital conflicts with the dramatic cuts that have been made in education funding at all levels in the past four years as a result, ironically enough, of the fiscal crisis.
A second possibility is that the seeming irony of this situation is a result of an intentional civic decision to pursue and publicize only the most convenient criminal cases. Our politicians and judicial system seek robust professional and legal sanctions against educators who violate our trust, their professional ethics, or the law, but they elect not to pursue any sanctions at all for equally heinous behavior in the financial community because the former is easier than the latter.
The members of the “12 trillion dollar club” and their firms not only can afford the highest quality legal representation money can buy, they can also call into action the most aggressive lobbyists and political operatives to seek retribution against politicians and judges who pursue them. The Atlanta educators have none of this; they represent “low-hanging fruit” for prosecutors and politicians.
Ultimately, then, the most damning implications of this are not about politicians or members of the media, nor even about educators or financiers. The most disturbing implication to be drawn from this irony is about the level of hypocrisy we as a society are willing to condone.
Kim K. Metcalf is director of institutional research and planning at the University of West Georgia and served as Dean of the College of Education from 2008 until 2012.
