Open-Door College Admission Is an Unkindness to the Ill-Prepared : Education: Too many community-college students can’t do the work; they might benefit from an entrance exam required in a new federal law.

Suppose you were a college professor. What would you say to a student writing at third-grade level? You fail? Why are you here? Or maybe, how did you get here?

When I taught at a community college, I had to tell students either face-to-face or through failing grades, “You are not ready for college.” This painful truth wounds a student’s self-esteem, and it blames the victim for falling through the cracks of a shaky educational system.

Last fall, the federal government took steps to alleviate this problem by passing a law requiring an entrance exam for students without high-school diplomas. Meant to tighten federal purse strings, the Student Loan Default Act of 1990 was aimed at students who enter college unprepared, take out student loans, fail, then default on their loans. But, as passed, it applied to all prospective community-college students.

The California community colleges sued the federal government to block the law, claiming an entrance exam jeopardizes their open-door policy. In December, a federal court issued a restraining order nullifying the law until June 30. Meantime, Congress and the Department of Education are to hammer out a revised bill to satisfy all parties. Two congressmen, George Miller (D-Calif.) and Ronald D. Coleman (D-Tex.), are leading a campaign to revise the law, or repeal it.

Thus far, the debate has skirted the fundamental issue: Should community colleges be the destination of students who are simply unready for college? Might an entrance exam serve a useful academic--and not just fiscal--purpose?

From the perspective of the classroom, my answer is an emphatic yes.

Last fall, I taught the early American history survey course at a Los Angeles-area community college. I began the semester with great enthusiasm, eager to stimulate my students into thinking deeply about our past. Reality hit hard the first week. It wasn’t history many of my students needed, but rather a crash course in reading and writing.

Their assignment the first week was to read a six-page article on the early American Indians from “Natural History” magazine and come to class prepared to discuss it. About six students of 45 came prepared. Week after week, two or three students arrived prepared on discussion days. What was going on here? I asked myself. Was it laziness or apathy? Had I chosen the wrong kinds of readings? Who was responsible for these weekly flops, me or them?

I altered my teaching techniques by combining participatory exercises with the reading assignments and changing the reading material altogether. However, I clung to my firm belief that college students, no matter what level, must be required to read to learn not only substance but also critical thinking. Still, only a few students read.

What was the problem? My insight deepened when one of my struggling students dropped by my office. He had scored “F” on the midterm, and came in to express regret over his performance. “Sometimes I can’t believe I graduated from high school. I just barely skimmed by. You know, I just don’t like to read, I don’t know. I can’t just sit down and read,” he said, chuckling.

I felt angry, sympathetic and dumbfounded all at once. After a pause, I told him the reading requirements still held, that he would have to muster self-discipline to do them. This was a challenge much bigger than a history assignment--it was a lesson in responsibility and rigor. He dropped the class a month later.

My next jolt came when the students turned in their first written assignment, a two-page essay. I collected their papers with a mixture of eager anticipation and sheer dread. Some of the papers were decent, but then came the shockers. I faced the appalling truth that I had students in my class writing at third-grade level. I remember staring at one particularly bad paper, wondering how I should grade it. Do I overlook the lack of a single complete sentence, of capitalization, of recognizable grammar? Should I read it “holistically,” as one colleague advised me?

This student didn’t need history, he needed basic skills. He needed an elementary and secondary education. I felt deep frustration and anger--at the system for letting this student reach college so ill-prepared, and at my employers for hiring me to teach college-level history to students unready for college.

Not all my students needed remedial help. What is striking about community colleges is the extraordinary range of ability among students: from very bright to failing desperately. A couple of my students would have probably earned “A’s” at UCLA. But on the other end were those who could not construct a complete sentence, who felt frustrated by--in their minds--impossibly difficult work, who dropped out or flunked out.

The federal law requiring an entrance exam is needed for more than the prosaic reason of saving the government money. An entrance exam can alert students that a certain level of knowledge is required for minimal success at a community college. If they do not pass, students should seek remedial help, ideally made available through community colleges, to remove any stigmas--keeping the open-door policy intact while guiding students to the appropriate door. With these basic skills mastered, they will be equipped to deal with the course material once they do enter the classroom.

Setting these minimal standards also would allow instructors to be more focused in teaching their material of expertise. Many community-college courses are transferable for credit to four-year universities, and they should be taught as such without spending precious class time on teaching basic grammar.

Ultimately, this issue speaks to the malaise in our education system. How did my barely literate students get through high school? An entrance exam can serve a useful purpose for the moment, but clearly this situation is but another example of why we need a deeper public commitment to education at all levels.

To burden professors and students in community colleges with the work of primary education is like asking them to correct the failures of an entire education system. The weight of that safety net is simply too heavy.