Star Ledger, Monday 2-23-09, by Bob Braun

There's no formula for fairness in school aid case

Peter Doyne has this way of thinking when he is on the bench: The judge slides his glasses up to his forehead, turns his head toward the ceiling of his courtroom in Hackensack and stares silently. Almost as though he's praying to the heavens above.

Who knows? Maybe he is. And who could blame him? Doyne presides over the state school aid formula case and could use help from anywhere. It is extraordinarily complex and lies at the congested crossroads of emotionally charged public issues: Class, race, politics, education, taxes -- and children.

"This divides us, and has divided us for decades," says Lynne Strickland, the head of a group of mostly suburban districts, the Garden State Coalition of Schools. "All of us in education should be in the same boat -- we'd be more powerful then. But we somehow never are. There's always the competition."

Because the school aid case -- stripped of its formulas and its jargon, its long history and its political arguments -- is about one simple thing:

Who gets the money?

Normally, in New Jersey -- as elsewhere -- who gets the public money is a function of political power and wealth. That should mean the rich suburbs.

But, for almost 40 years, the state's poorest districts -- representing the poorest children, mostly minorities -- have had an unbeatable ally in the competition for resources: the state Supreme Court.

More than a dozen decisions since the 1970s have been the big thumb on the scales of political power in public education and its closely related issue, property taxes.

Consider one statistic: Of the nearly $9 billion in state funds spent on education, 53 percent goes to the 23 percent of students in the 31 so-called "Abbott" districts.

From that, flow other consequences -- property tax hikes have been lower in urban districts, per pupil spending has been higher.

"It shouldn't," says Strickland, "but it always looks like us against them."

In other words, it looks unfair -- and is looking a lot more unfair as the state struggles with what could be a $5 billion deficit.

That's not to say the money isn't needed in city schools. Or isn't effective educationally. But it sure can make for bad feelings -- between city and suburb, Republican and Democrat, maybe even between white and black.

Because of the court, little can be done politically to change it. The court closed schools in 1976 to force lawmakers to enact an income tax to pay for the first school aid formula designed to favor urban schools. For once, cities had the political edge.

David Sciarra, the head of the Education Law Center in Newark, the lawyer for the 31 poorer districts, says the "us against them" mentality was created, not by the urban districts, but by the failure of the Legislature to fund past school aid formulas.

"We get the blame, but the blame belongs in a Legislature that failed to meet its obligations to all the children in the state," he says.

Strickland doesn't disagree: "In the last few decades, we've had maybe four or five different school aid formulas and they've only been fully funded in three or four years. Schools in the middle are really hurting."

Many districts suffered -- but not necessarily Abbott districts. The urban schools have that thumb on the scale, the collective godfather known as the Supreme Court, to shield them from financial storms hitting the other school systems.

Therein lies the nub of the problem. The new formula -- the so-called School Funding Reform Act -- eliminates the distinctions between Abbott districts and regular school systems, many of which also have poor children who need special help.

Those who run urban districts know that, once the Abbott designation is gone, the Supreme Court leaves the field, at least for a while, and those systems and the kids they serve lose their edge and face what other districts now face: A Legislature that doesn't fully fund its schools, no matter what the formula. Even in good times.

Forget about a Legislature facing a sea of $5 billion in red ink.

Doyne is expected to finish the hearings this week. He'll make findings of fact to the high court. He'll talk about per pupil spending and property taxes.

But he'll also have to talk about something else. Something that would make any judge want to stare at the ceiling, searching for a thought -- and, just maybe, advice.

"We are finally starting to see gains in learning," says Ernest Reock, a retired Rutgers professor. He is an expert witness for Sciarra -- and was a witness in the two previous attacks on the school aid system since 1969. He is 84.