Perplexed? Good, happy Monday!

Well, the credit I’m referring to comes from accrediting agencies like the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, whose stamp of approval has meant parents, students and the public can rest assured quality education is occuring in those classrooms.

While not necessary, such a notation (which is obviously preceded by a thorough review) has opened doors of opportunity in terms of acceptance into certain programs, scholarships and positions.  

Indeed, my colleague Del Stover profiled Clayton County schools in Georgia, where school board dysfunction  cost the district its SACS accreditation last summer. As a result, hundreds of families moved out of the district into neighboring school systems or private schools that were accredited.

Now pan three states over and fast forward to today, when just about everyone, particularly school districts are feeling the effects of a seemingly bottomless recession, and you’ll find Dallas Independent School District’s approach to a SACS accreditation: we’ll pass thanks.

Yup, the second largest school system in the second-largest state is opting out of the evaluation process that 13,000 other schools and school systems undergo through SACS.  Dallas cites (what else?) financial reasons for their withdrawal.

Facing a $30 million deficit, the district is scouring its budget to find anything it can cut. The site visits and evaluation not only cost $1,000 a pop per school, but it costs administrative time.

My cynical colleague Del thinks there may be more to Dallas’ decision — maybe the standards are too high, he suggests snarkily— which may be true, but it’s a move that is being copied by more and more public schools, notes SACS  official, Sandra Sherman.

“For some reason, this isn’t much of a priority anymore,” Sherman told the Dallas Morning News.

Funny how tight budgets can do that to priorities.

Naomi Dillon, Senior Editor

For most of last year, Clayton County was the nation’s poster child of a school board “gone bad.” Some board members interfered in administrative matters. They bickered at board meetings. They accused one another of wrongdoing and asked state officials to conduct investigations of their colleagues.

It was as dysfunctional a school board as existed. And ultimately, it paid the price. An outraged public demanded that board members resign. Those that resisted were removed from office by the governor. And the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools stripped the school system of its accreditation.

But that’s the past. And it’s important to make that clear. The old board is gone-all nine members swept from office-and a new board is attempting to pick up the pieces and rebuild public confidence in the school board and the school system.

They’re making progress. Very conscious of the need to break away from the past, the new board at its December meeting stuck strictly to its agenda, limited board member remarks, and followed parliamentary procedures to a degree I’ve seldom seen.

It was as dull a board meeting as I’ve intended in 30 years. And, given the sad drama of past meetings, that’s a compliment.

Why was I at the meeting? I visited Clayton County as part of my research into a “case study” of the old board and what went wrong it. The article will appear in the March ASBJ.

It’s not a pretty story. The old board talked a lot about the “needs of the children,” but when push came to shove, board members often succumbed to the personal animosity and suspicions that had grown between them. In the end, they could not simply shut up and get on with the business at hand.

(In my magazine article, I believe I chose more diplomatic language to make that point.)

Some readers might question why ASBJ would devote its editorial space to a dysfunctional school board. After all, don’t such horror stories give critics of local school governance more ammunition for their agendas?

Well, they already have that ammunition. In Georgia, for example, state lawmakers are talking about new rules to govern school boards-a direct result of the year of negative headlines coming out of Clayton County.

But I think there’s good reason for school boards to read this case study. These board members weren’t evil people. They weren’t stupid. They just got lost their way. They lost their sense of teamwork. And, ultimately, they lost their ability to accept that they had failed as a board.

Some boards may recognize those danger signs in their own activities-and, hopefully, will take the story of Clayton County to heart.

But, as I’ve already noted, it’s also important to remember that this upcoming article is about the past. That school board is gone.  We should learn the lessons it has to offer. But we also must remember that there’s a new board in Clayton County-and it’s working hard to be a good board.

I wish them luck.

Del Stover, Senior Editor