Inside the Revolt Over Bush's School Rules

Most Americans don't know about the Utah War of 1857-58. President James Buchanan sent thousands of federal troops into the desert to install his own, non-Mormon Governor. The people of Utah did not respond well. They spooked the federal livestock and burned the federal wagons. They incinerated 368,000 lbs. of military provisions.

If that seems irrelevant to the current debate over education policy, you must not be from Utah. "Here we are 150 years later," said Republican representative Steven Mascaro during floor debate in the Utah legislature on April 19. "Washington's marching in with the education army ... You know what? I'd just as soon they take the stinking money and go back to Washington with it and let us resolve our education problems ourselves."

And so Utah, the state that backed President George W. Bush more resolutely than any other in last fall's election, became the first to formally defy his proudest domestic achievement. The legislature passed a bill that lets Utah schools ignore the 2002 No Child Left Behind education law if its mandates conflict with state priorities or require state money to meet them. "They didn't bring tea to drop overboard, but that's about all that was missing," says a satisfied Patti Harrington, state superintendent of public instruction.

The next day the National Education Association (NEA), the nation's largest teachers' union, with school districts in Michigan, Texas and Vermont, filed suit against the Federal Government, claiming that No Child is severely underfunded. Maine is considering joining. Connecticut is crafting its own suit, and other states may sign on. And then there's Texas: Bush's home state was fined $444,282 last month (out of a $1.1 billion federal allowance) by the U.S. Department of Education for missing a deadline to report school rankings. Texas continues to violate the law in other ways.

For three years, teachers and politicians have wailed about No Child, which requires rigid reform and testing regimens in exchange for federal money for low-income students. Critics say the policy is underfunded, overbearing and unfair. Now they are taking action. And the law may not survive intact, despite the Administration's vow to fight to the end.

The timing is ironic. Recent studies suggest that the No Child reforms may actually be working. Of the 49 states surveyed by the independent Center on Education Policy last year, 36 reported that student achievement was improving. Virtually all the 314 school districts surveyed said they were providing more instruction to low-achieving students and more professional development for teachers.

Currently 6,000 schools (13% of those receiving federal money) have been deemed "in need of improvement" under No Child. But that was the reason for the law in the first place: too many schools were shamelessly letting poor and minority kids fall behind. "Some of these schools haven't been performing for 15 to 20 years, but it was one of the best-kept secrets in most communities," says House Democrat George Miller of California, who helped write No Child. The smartest thing the law does is to require schools to separate out the scores of at-risk children instead of lumping all kids together for a sunnier average.