Small Class Size Makes for a Big Success Story : An 11th-grade English program that was fortunate enough to receive funding from the Morgan-Hart Act evolves into a community of learners and writers.

We’re in the midst of a great call for education reform across the state and across the nation. My colleagues, who have been in the education arena longer than I, are unimpressed. They say they’ve heard it all before.

They tend to think that education ultimately happens in the classroom. Quality education means well-trained teachers, modern buildings, decent equipment and low student-teacher ratios.

And they often add that since the government seems willing to pay for none of those things, the picture is pretty hopeless.

I often find myself sharing their gloom.

But this year, the Morgan-Hart Act, passed by the state Legislature in 1989, reached my classroom. Morgan-Hart, named for state Sens. Roberta Morgan, its originator, and Gary Hart, allocated money to reduce class size in lower elementary grades and senior high. It sets a goal of classes of 20 students in all core high school classes, although reaching the goal depends on funding.

Until that utopia is reached, districts apply for grants from the state and spend the money where they think it will do the most good. In Los Angeles, it goes to 11th-grade English.

It’s true there’s not enough money for all classes in all grades, not enough for all school districts. And it has taken years for any money to reach its destination. But it’s a whole lot better than nothing, and when it comes its effects are immediate and positive.

In my 11th-grade English classes, combined American literature and contemporary composition, Morgan-Hart translates to a cap of 20 students as opposed to the usual 35 to 40. It may not seem like much if you have never taught high school English, but for those of us who have, it’s the difference between success and failure.

*

With 20 in a class, we do a lot more reading and a lot more writing. Danny, one of my students, wrote in a mid-semester letter evaluating the class and his progress in it: “During the first three weeks of this class I thought I had died and gone to hell. Every night there was writing to do--descriptive paragraphs, thesis statements, narratives. I didn’t think you’d ever let up. Who’d expect English to be tougher than Chemistry?

“I really poured my heart into the autobiographical incident and it’s the best thing I’ve ever written.”

With 20 in a class, every student gets involved. No one falls through the cracks. There’s lots of positive peer pressure and no corners in which to hide. The class is more personal than a class of 40 students could possibly be. Before we left for winter recess, several students requested that next semester the class remain the same--no new students in, none out. They have established groups within the class which work well, each student contributing his or her share. On a campus of more than 2,700 students, it’s especially important that students feel some ownership, at least for part of their day.

In a smaller class it’s not “me” managing “them.” Instead, we’re developing as a community of learners. For example, when we read Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven,” everyone got to voice an opinion and, even though I’ve read the poem dozens of times, the students helped me understand some nuances I hadn’t noticed before. The students were able to come to a knowing without a lecture from me. They felt comfortable enough to risk stating what they thought and felt. The work became theirs, not something to memorize in order to pass a test.

Because we are a small community of writers, we see our work as “works in progress.” We sometimes use my own writing as class exercises, dissecting it on an overhead projector. We can spend 10 minutes arguing over a sentence--which verb fits best, did I stick to my thesis or get off-track.

We remind one another, as we slash each other’s papers with the mighty red marker, not to fall in love with our words. Students who were used to turning in their first efforts as good enough are now redoing their papers three or four times, improving them with each revision. With half my previous student load, I have time to read and comment on each of them.

Unfortunately, Los Angeles’ Morgan-Hart money doesn’t help senior English with its 40 students per class, and it doesn’t help the emergency credentialed math teacher next door who is struggling with 38 students every period. But it has greatly helped my 11th-grade students. And, like the teacher from San Jose who wrote to Morgan, I feel renewed, “like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”