What differences

would a parent notice if she opted to pull her

child out of public school and put him into one

of the church schools now open in Fayette County?

For that matter,

what differences would the student note?

From the outset, it

should be understood that schools are too

complex, too diverse even within a single system

or community, to make generalizations that cover

them all.

Children too differ

so much in the way they fit into their world that

even siblings may have vastly dissimilar

experiences.

And in addition to

those caveats, it should be obvious that there is

no such thing as a typical school day.

Comparing a

fifth-grade class in a public school with a

fifth-grade class in a private church school is

not exactly comparing oranges with apples. Still,

navel oranges with mandarins may be as close as

one gets.

There must be a

difference, however, or private schools could not

command the tuition fees they do. And parents

must feel that the difference is worth the $4,000

or more per child per year they pay to church

schools like St. Paul Lutheran in Peachtree City

and Our Lady of Victory Catholic School north of

Tyrone.

Let's sit in first

on a class at Huddleston Elementary School in

Peachtree City - a state School of

Excellence as well as a national School of Merit.

The principal here is Lynda Lambeth, who has been

at Huddleston for 11 years. Her predecessors were

Trigg Dalrymple and John DeCotis, both of whom

went on to become superintendent of schools in

Fayette County.

"That

tradition stops here," the diminutive

administrator asserts. She wants to stay close to

the kids, she says.

Classes at

Huddleston run from kindergarten to fifth grade

in a variety of configurations. The smallest

class has 17 students, the largest 22.

In the lower

grades, one teacher stays with one group of

children in one room all day. In upper grades,

two may team-teach classes that swap rooms

several times a day. There are also a few

"looping" classes in which the teacher

will move ahead to the next grade with the class

she taught this year. Lambeth said that while the

arrangement of instructors is essentially random,

parents' preferences are considered.

Several teachers

job-share, one working two or three days a week,

the other continuing with the same lesson plan on

the remaining days. A "collaborative

teacher" floats from class to class,

augmenting teachers in certain subjects.

An early-arriving

observer sees the schoolyard flag being raised by

a couple of earnest-looking girls, who appear to

take their job seriously but without ceremony.

They have been recommended for the honor by

teachers, Lambeth says.

She explains that

Mondays are a bit hectic because it's the day

students buy lunch tickets for the week in the

lunch room. The system works - "We have

not run out of food this year!" -

despite a number of users that fluctuates from

day to day.

If Mondays are

hectic, it is not obvious to a visitor on a

guided tour. The atmosphere in the halls is

purposeful, organized, relaxed, and quieter than

the observer remembers from her own school days.

Nearly every child smiles at the principal, who

responds by calling each by name.

The halls and rooms

are almost cluttered by art displays, but pride

is evident. Morale is further boosted during 8

a.m. announcements (which began this morning

about 10 past) over the PA system. They run

heavily to art class of the week, spirit winners,

and birthday greetings.

Announcements are

followed by the mandatory moment of silence

- mostly - 45 seconds that students may

do with as they wish, so long as they are quiet.

On Monday, the song of the day, piped through the

building, is "The Star-Spangled

Banner." The kids rise, some sing and some

do not, and then, with hands over hearts, they

say the Pledge of Allegiance.

Wednesdays and

Fridays are different, Lambeth says, because the

kids put on a live TV broadcast seen in every

room via the school's closed system.

In the all-purpose

room, the fifth-grade band is practicing. A

student presides over the school

"store-on-wheels" in the hallway, and

in the media center, a display recognizes

students who meet six-week reading goals and test

well by computer. The emphasis, Lambeth says, is

to identify at-risk readers early.

Public schools

cannot, of course, provide religious training,

but can teach positive character traits. A picket

fence mural in one hall lists "Life

skills": courage, caring, initiative,

organization, perseverance, problem-solving,

common sense, sense of humor, friendship, pride

and cooperation.

Similarly, on the

wall of Lambeth's office is posted "School

limits" which resemble a Scout pledge. To

paraphrase: "I will keep others from injury.

I will treat my family and others with respect. I

will treat the property of others with care and

not keep what does not belong to me. I will

behave so as not to bother others, and will

always be truthful...."

It's hard for a

visitor to spot the teacher when entering Natalie

Sanders' fifth-grade class. With long hair pulled

back from her face with barrettes, she looks like

a returning sixth-grader. This is her second year

of teaching since graduating from Clayton College

& State University. Math and science are her

areas of greatest interest; she coaches her

school's Science Olympiad team.

The 20 children in

the room sit at desks grouped in fours or fives,

and at this age, appear not to care whether their

seat partners are boys or girls, black, Asian or

Caucasian. Courtesy prevails: Sanders makes her

wishes known in a soft voice or with a gesture or

look, and invariably responds to her students'

compliance with "Thank you."

Sanders' class uses

whiteboards and markers that remind one of the

slate and chalk used in turn-of-the-century

classrooms. To her invitation of "If you

know it, show it," whiteboards bob above

young heads, allowing her to critique or correct

today's lesson in fractions with a glance.

For a hands-on

comprehension of what it means to add 5/8 and

3/4, Sanders has given each pupil a sandwich bag

with eight small graham crackers. They'll be

allowed to eat them after the lesson.

Collaborative teacher Amy Legare roams through

the room, helping keep on task one youngster who

has discovered that his fingers taste good after

handling the "fractions." No one seems

to notice when he copies answers others are

waving in the air.

No bells ring, but

at a prearranged time, Sanders' students put away

their whiteboards and line up quietly to swap

places with a class from across the hall. It's

Cathy Beach's turn to teach them language and

social studies.

The class has

nearly finished a book about the friendship of a

white lad and an Indian boy. The youngsters take

turns reading aloud, as kids have for

generations, and periodically pause to discuss

the meaning of what they've read.

Then and now

children can relate to rites of passage, Beach

points out, whether in trapping skills, religious

observances, or getting a driver's license. They

discover that earning the respect of others was

important even in the days when the first

European settlers arrived and culture clashes

were inevitable.

"Did my father

take your grandfather's land?" the white boy

asks his friend. The concept is beyond the

Indian's comprehension: "How man own

land?" he responds.

There are spelling

words on the board: intricately, accuracy,

thrust, wounded, nonchalantly, contemptuous.

Vocabulary words include a few that will be

repeated over the next few years with SAT tests

in mind: persisted, poised, typhus, pewter,

reproach, doleful, altruistic.

The overall

impression of a visitor who has had no recent

firsthand experience with schools is that

teachers and administrators in public schools

bring years of experience to the task at hand,

and blend organization gently with confidence and

good humor.

- Next week, a

look inside St. Paul Lutheran School.

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