Better Grades for Bill Bennett

By Ezra Bowen

In his freshman year in office -- at least the way his critics saw it -- Secretary of Education William Bennett misbehaved like a classroom bully. He brashly backhanded many university students as beach bums who loafed on Government loans, blasted what he called the "failed path" of bilingual education, charged that rising college tuitions and cafeteria-style curriculums were a rip-off and assailed fat in congressional education budgets. Except for hearty support from President Reagan, whom Bennett strove mightily to please, most reaction from lawmakers and educators ranged from bemusement to cold rage. California Democrat Augustus Hawkins, chairman of the House Committee on Education and Labor, summed up the early opinion: "I would give him failing grades."

As Bennett winds up his second year in the job, some of his erstwhile critics have begun to revise his grades upward. Says Anthony Podesta, president of the Washington-based liberal lobby People for the American Way: "He used to be more a seeker of headlines than educational excellence. Now he is increasingly more responsible." Bennett may be ineffectual in getting legislation passed; indeed, both Congress and academe fault him for abandoning the traditional role of ombudsman on Capitol Hill for educational programs and funding. However most observers agree that he has been a resounding success at stirring up national discussion on basic educational issues.

In so doing, the contentious Secretary has not only defined his own conception of his role but changed the nature of the job he occupies. "No longer will people be satisfied with a spokesman for the education lobby as Secretary," says Terry Hartle, an education expert at the American Enterprise Institute. "They will look for someone who can candidly open up the issues for debate." The Secretary agrees. He relishes the "bully pulpit" he has made of his office. "No one," he adds proudly, "has advanced more ideas, more state of the art, more assessment of public education per dollar. It's been ideas, ideas, ideas."

The record bears him out. Within the past year Bennett has:

-- Created a "Schools Without Drugs" program that, he claims, "hundreds of schools are putting into practice." He also called on college presidents to show a "little courage" by kicking drugs off campus.

-- Released studies titled First Lessons and What Works, advocating back-to- basics principles for elementary schools. Says Bennett: "The Chicago school board has adopted a homework policy based on What Works."

-- Recommended dramatic expansion of experimental income-contingency loans that allow students to repay debts at rates linked to their income.

-- Challenged college presidents to exercise more "moral authority," e.g., by insisting that athletes take real courses and graduate legitimately, with coaches' jobs otherwise at stake.

-- Called for more attention to values in the curriculum, with a place for religion in course content. "We have absolutely won the debate on religion," he exults, noting that when he first asserted that textbooks were neglecting religion, "people said, Omygosh -- Ayatullah!" Now, says Bennett, both liberals and conservatives agree with him.

Clearly his proposals have touched responsive chords in Americans of the 1980s, including some members of what Bennett sees as the education establishment. Bill Honig, California's superintendent of public instruction, observes, "He's saying the right thing and saying it strongly enough so people are paying attention." And, Honig adds, "he really has mellowed this past year." Congress has begun to mellow back. "Bennett got off to a bumpy start with me," says Vermont Republican Robert Stafford, ranking Republican on the Senate Subcommittee on Education, Arts and Humanities. "But he's corrected that."

"I haven't changed," insists Bennett. "People have gotten used to me." If so, people may have to become even more used to him. Insiders whisper that he is pondering a run for higher office; he has been mentioned as a possible vice-presidential candidate. The Secretary brushes off such rumors, saying that what he would really like to be is a tight end for the Chicago Bears. "If a feeler comes from them, I'm gone," jokes Bennett, a burly 220- pounder who played tackle at Williams College. But he concedes a joy in the rough-and-tumble of politics: "Do I like it? I say yeah!"

Of late he has been jetting around the country like a man running for something. "I've been to 60 schools," he says, "visiting five to six classrooms a day, plus a speech at the Rotary Club and jogging." This week will bring more of the same, with speeches in New York City on disadvantaged children, Atlanta in observance of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday, San Antonio on bilingual education, then Los Angeles to boost art education.

Howls are still resounding on Capitol Hill over his announcement last week of the 1988 education budget. Bennett, a doctrinaire Reaganaut when it comes to reducing the Federal Government's role in education, proposed slashing $5.5 billion from this year's appropriation of $19.5 billion. Such notions usually get short shrift in Congress. Robert Atwell, president of the American Council on Education, brands the new proposed cuts "indecent." And Congressman Hawkins says of other parts of the new budget, "It's nuts."

Reflecting on the Secretary's overall performance, Illinois Democrat Paul Simon of the Senate's Education, Arts and Humanities Subcommittee gives him a C-minus for his sophomore year. Notes an unimpressed Mary Futrell, president of the National Education Association: "He seems more interested in sparring with us than in sitting down and solving problems." But Old Footballer Bennett appears to disdain report cards from anyone but the Gipper himself. "I have a lot of ideas for 1987," he told Reagan when the President called him on Christmas Eve. "We have the ball and we are going to run with it." Responded the boss: "I know you will."

With reporting by Patricia Delaney/Washington, with other bureaus