One-on-One Learning in Public School

0n Fridays, Mrs. Moloney can pretty much count on full attendance by her 28 second.,grade children. That's the day the 72 eighth‑graders from Newton's 'Solomon Schechter Day School make the trek to the Shaw School in

‑Boston's Dorchester neighborhood to read, one‑on‑one, to their younger neighbors. "Neighbors" is, of course, a euphemism. Under normal circum‑ stances, the SSDS children and the 'Shaw School children ‑ all black or Hispanic ‑ would never meet. Some 85% of the Shaw children are poor enough to qualify for school breakfast and lunch programs, and 60% come from single‑parent homes, with many of the rest either in foster homes or being raised by their grandparents. At SSDS, 'where tuition is nearly $10,000 a year, the children can look forward to class trips to Israel and to Washington; even by the time they reach eighth grade, some of the Shaw students will not have been as far as downtown Boston, and almost none will have traveled beyond. And so forth, an entirely typical American story of contrast, numbers that numb.

So it is something to behold the enthusiasm with which the children ‑ the pairings have been constant all year ‑ greet one another, and to watch as some of the SSDS students, there being a shortage of chairs, kneel next to their younger partners and help induct them into the world of books. (By the end of the hour, half the SSDS boys will have been persuaded to part with their yarmulkes, now proudly worn by the Shaw boys.)

This is the second year of the program, one aspect of the work of the Boston Jewish Coalition for Literacy through which more than 500 Jewish volunteers are engaged in tutoring inner‑city kids. Most of the volunteers are adults, men and women who make time for a weekly encounter with a child in first, second or third grade, the focus of the federal government's "America Reads" program. And it's hard to say whether the impact of the interaction is greater on the children or on their tutors.

Boston was the pilot city of the National Jewish Coalition for Literacy, which now has affiliates in 23 cities across the country, from Portland to Providence, from San Antonio to San Francisco, from Louisville to Los Angeles. It placed its first tutors in the schools less than 18 months ago; by a year from this June, at the end of the 1999‑2000 academic year, the NJCL estimates that its local affiliates will have mobilized 10,000 volunteer tutors.

(As founder of the NJCL it's been my joy these past months to participate in the kick‑off of eight of the local program. Among young marrieds and long‑since retired people and every age in between, there's an eagerness about the volunteers that suggests they're thrilled at last to be recruited to hands‑on involvement in mending the world, one child at a time.)

It turns out that the ability to read by the end of third grade is as powerful a litmus test as we have of a child's prospects for success in later life ‑ and that some 40% of America's fourth graders are reading below their basic grade level. At the same time, Jews have what might well be regarded as a surplus of literacy ‑ and a proper regard, born both of morality and self‑interest, for the health of the society. Hence a near‑perfect match of need and resource. NJCL is the matchmaker, the shadkhan.

Back at the Shaw School, I ask Ms. Moloney whether the weekly session with the SSDS students is more than fun, whether it is actually useful. "I have 28 students in my class," she replies, "How much individual time do you think I can give them?" We chat for a while, and she tells me of her hope that the class size can be pared down to 25. 1 should not be, but am, astonished Every study of the matter says that classes should be no larger than 17 ‑ and we wonder why the schools are failing our kids. (One side‑benefit of the NJCL effort: The volunteers become advocates for the public schools.) The failure of the schools is not a tragedy, it is a scandal. We really do know how to do better, but we choose not to do it. We choose not to raise teachers' salaries, not to rebuild a crumbling physical plant .(the Shaw School was built in 1910), not to reduce class size; instead, we choose to flail about, blabbing vouchers and other such silly "solutions."

In just four years, the SSDS students will be eligible to vote. They'll remember the children at Shaw. (Last year's SSDS tutors rated their involvement at Shaw as even more meaningful than their trip to Israel.) They'll remember the hope in those children's eyes. And maybe, therefore, they'll become advocates for our national defense, which depends more on what happens in the Shaw Schools of our country than on more Apache helicopters.

And one more thing: They won't be confused about what our community stands for, and their own Jewish identities will thereby be enhanced.

What an entirely sweet way to spend one's Friday mornings, as Shabbat approaches.