A high school attached to a university is a good idea. Matthew Wendt, the new superintendent of Fayetteville's public school district, says he's already met with the chancellor of the University of Arkansas and may be meeting with him again. Why? "I just believe there's something about the university and the location of the public school system that should involve a partnership and a working relationship like none other." The emphasis is ours, for it is signal phrase--in the sense of being signally wrong.
Being new to the job, Superintendent Wendt's enthusiasm is as understandable as it is commendable. But a relationship like none other? Mr. Wendt may be confusing a good idea with a unique one, for there are colleges, both two- and four-year ones, throughout this state. And all stand to benefit themselves and their students by linking up with a high school.
The chancellor, Joseph Steinmetz, sounds just as gung-ho about connecting the town's university and its high school. Neither man would ever be found guilty of understatement. But before anybody gets carried away, let's note that a high school doesn't need to be attached to the University of Arkansas to offer its students a better education. It can just be attached to a local college or regional community college. That way, high school students who have just about completed their course work by the end of their junior year can spend their senior one figuring out the next step in their search for a vocation.
For instance: These seniors might just follow someone around who's already well established in a trade or profession and see what that's like. Without, of course, making a pest of themselves. Or putting on airs and acting as if they were already role models. Or they might apprentice at anything and everything from plumbing to furniture-making. Or do volunteer work. Or start taking college-level classes. The possibilities, like America's, are endless.
Call it the American version of the German wanderjahr or the Australian walkabout. Every culture must have an equivalent, or it wouldn't remain a culture. The rite of passage must be a universal human custom, whether it involves a trip to Europe first-class or joining a gang in some American ghetto. There should also be a place for the loner, the kid who stands back and just watches, maybe making notes for a future memoir.
The prototype for the university high school in this country--whether it's a private prep school like Phillips Exeter Academy in New England or a parochial one like Subiaco Academy here in Arkansas--has got to be the Boston Latin School (est. 1635). It has the distinction of being both the first public school in the United States and the second-oldest still existing school in this country.
Boston Latin began as an elite institution dedicated to the education of the sons of the Boston brahmin class. Its example remains well worth following, for its curriculum remains grounded in the belief that the classics are both the foundation and keystone of an educated mind. In that sense, schools like Boston Latin remain both vanguard and rear guard in the defense of Western civilization, which once again finds itself under attack by forces both at home and abroad.
Boston Latin still requires that each student take four years of Latin, hence its name. It's now officially a "magnet school" in Boston's educational system, but it's been a magnet for learning ever since it was founded. Attaching a high school to a university or even making it a university unto itself remains a good idea but scarcely an original one.
Messrs. Wendt and Steinmetz should take note. Like many of those convinced they've come up with some bright new idea, they may only be reflecting an old one whether good, bad, or in between. But an idea "like none other"? To a student of history, some ideas that appear to be unique may in fact have a long pedigree. And it can be enlightening to trace it. Sometimes the curious may find a distinguished ancestor in the family tree, sometimes a horse thief in the woodpile.
When someone claims to be descended from a founding father, it might be useful to inquire whether said founder was a genius like Alexander Hamilton seeking to promote the general welfare or a low knave like Aaron Burr seeking only to promote himself. The genealogy of ideas, like that of the humans who entertain them, can be as embarrassing as it is fascinating.
Editorial on 07/27/2016