Microsoft's Class Action

Rewriting The Rules At the School of the Future, students like Quetta Fairy are experimenting with a whole new way to learn.

"Miz Mary" Microsoft's Mary Cullinane says the company's "interest in education is very much a vested interest."

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Cullinane insists that preparing kids to be all-around thoughtful, productive human beings and equipping them to meet the demands of the workplace are not mutually exclusive goals. "The tools we're giving them are going to be applicable regardless of their life choices," she says. "Whether you're a scientist, an accountant, or a stay-at-home mom, your ability to effectively communicate ideas and learn on the fly will directly correlate with your success. Imagine a mechanic who needs to learn the changes from one model year to the next, or a new recruit who, all of a sudden, receives an opportunity to present her ideas to the group vice president. These scenarios happen every day, and School of the Future learners will be well equipped to handle them."

It's easy to make a straw man of the School of the Future, to presume that Microsoft is chiefly out to create a future generation of Redmond cubicle warmers. But that assumption overshoots the mark. After all, the Philadelphia school district is the final arbiter of what makes it into the school's curriculum. And if filling its own future ranks had been Microsoft's primary aim, it could have just opened a private School of the Future near corporate headquarters, built a tunnel between the two, and handed the kids a stack of programming manuals. "I'm not sure the kids are particularly affected by the Microsoft name on the door," Long concedes. "They are affected--positively, I think--by the access to human capital, ideas, and resources. As for being mini-Microsofties, it's doubtful."

What isn't in doubt is that something has to give in the American education system. Barring a sudden onset of political courage, change will more likely come not from Washington but from the hundreds of companies, including Microsoft, that are taking it upon themselves to invest in the talent supply. "Does being involved in the schools give us a competitive edge?" Cullinane asks. "Well, we would be thrilled to see companies around the world devoting time and resources to improving education. Our economies would all benefit from such an investment, as would our communities, and, most important, our children."

In some ways, the question of whether or not mini-Microsofties, Sunoco-ites, and Citigroupians will throng tomorrow's schoolyards is a distraction from the more critical issue of who will oversee how these corporations are granted access to the system--and what they will do once they get it. One ominous sign, according to Eva Gold, principal of Philadelphia-based educational nonprofit Research for Action, is that when public-private partnerships start to multiply, the public side of the equation can atrophy. After the state took over the Philadelphia school district, for example, it disbanded the existing Board of Education; now most decision making about the district's future happens behind closed doors. "When the district engages with outside providers or partners, these are not publicly discussed decisions," Gold says. "There are weekly meetings of the school-reform commission, but you have to submit in writing what you're going to say beforehand, and you have three minutes to talk about it. It's not a time for dialogue." Monmouth University's Horn agrees: "A system run by bean counters instead of a democratically elected school board leads to a breakdown of the democratic process," he says. "The purpose of education should be defined by the community where the school sits, by the parents and teachers."

Yet considering the level of desperation poor urban districts have reached, it's easy to see why improving student performance might eclipse consensus building on the priority list, at least temporarily. Certainly the parents and teachers in West Philadelphia seem largely in favor of this particular oligarchy and its potential for delivering swift and dramatic results. What's more, talk to a group of these students and you come away believing that they are among the most curious and articulate 14- and 15-year-olds around. They're determined to build meaningful lives--and, more important, actually believe they can.

Few if any of those plans, it's worth noting, seem to include Microsoft. Tyler Wilson wants to be a doctor or a psychologist; Ryan Wheeler, inspired by a learning unit on forensics, wants to be a criminologist. Almost all of the students see the school's small classes, nurturing staff, and achievement-oriented culture as their ticket out: "My sister tells me every day, 'I want to be like you. I'm getting there--just watch,'" Wheeler says. "But she already got knifed."

Public-private partnerships can be capricious, and it's hard to predict how this one will evolve. Given the sheer number of companies getting involved in school reform, we could be heading toward a bewildering hodgepodge of curricula and philosophies in schools across the country. Whether this corporate patchwork constitutes a utopian vision or an Orwellian one will be for administrators, parents, and students to decide.