In my race for New York City Council in the fall of 1999, I emphasized public education. In
office, I hoped to dive right into the problems of curriculum, teacher training, and extracurricular
activities -- critical ingredients in delivering a first-rate education. Instead, I found myself
confronting the 10-foot rule.
I discovered this rule quite accidentally. No constituent complained, no principal demanded I
investigate.
I was simply touring a school in my district, listening to the principal explain how happy he was
that he had managed to get his school painted just before the students arrived. As I talked, I
noticed that the ceiling of the classroom we were in was definitely not painted. Figuring the
painters had just missed one, and not wanting to rain on his parade, I didn't say anything.
Then I had to speak up -- because as the tour went on, I found that every ceiling was unpainted,
as were the upper parts of the walls.
The principal explained that the board of education separates contracts for painting walls and for
painting ceilings. What about the top of the walls, I asked? Well, he replied, the top third or so of
the wall is technically considered part of the ceiling.
Frankly, I found this all hard to believe, even granting a healthy dose of board of education
bureaucracy. So I called the board, relating all I'd seen and expecting to meet puzzlement or
disbelief. Instead, without missing a beat, my contact said, "Oh yes, that's the 10-foot rule."
What, I asked hesitantly, is the 10-foot rule?
I was informed that this rule divvies up the work of painting schools between the custodians
(below) and the painters (above). The result of this moppers/painters distinction is a bizarre and
wasteful approach to maintenance that we would never accept in any other context.
Would you want your apartment to be painted in two steps, perhaps years apart? Your
inconvenience would be doubled, since you'd have to move your furniture and vacate your
apartment twice, you'd have to live with a half-painted apartment for years, and your costs would
rise since much of the work (e.g., showing up, covering furniture, and hauling supplies) would
have to be done twice.
It's bad enough that money that should be spent on books and teacher training is instead going
toward higher painting costs. But the implication is more troubling: If our schools can't get
something simple like painting right, how can we be confident they will be able to tackle the real
challenges, like teaching children to read and write?
The 10-foot rule is a symptom of a much deeper problem. We are at the mercy of an educational
monopoly, a system that is the sole repository of public funds for education and therefore
competes with no one for the privilege of educating our children.
As with any monopoly, good intentions haven't stopped the system from growing complacent.
Sometimes, it lets the needs of its customers -- our children -- come behind those of special
interests.
Fortunately, this is changing. Under a 1998 state law, charter schools are being created by
community leaders and parents who believe the present system doesn't fully meet our children's
needs. We now have more than a dozen charters in New York City. The founders of these
schools believe that, freed from bureaucratic overhead and red tape, they can meet the needs of
many of our children who are being failed by our current system.
We should welcome this competition. The point is not to weaken our existing public schools, or
even just to create a few new good schools. The point is to improve all of our schools through
the rigors of competition.
Competition challenges us to do our best. As an elected official, I am always aware that there are
others who will be glad to take my job if I don't do it well.
Competition is also a creative process in which competitors can learn from each other about
more effective and efficient practices, just as American car makers eventually learned from the
Japanese. In this way, even the "losers" ultimately are winners.
That's why I welcome competition. Hopefully, one of the first lessons our schools will learn is
that they cannot afford to let complaisance or red tape -- like the 10-foot rule -- interfere with
educating our children.
Blueprint Keywords: Extra Moskowitz