Education evolves under the watchful eyes of superintendents
“The superintendent will be coming next week!”
Throughout the rural counties of the American West that announcement prompted the teacher’s plea for all students to be prepared and on their best behavior.
My grandmother was a teacher in eastern Washington state between 1914 and 1918. She recalled how the county superintendent of schools would drive up the dirt road leading to her one-room schoolhouse in his Model T Ford. The classroom became very quiet as the great man entered.
The students ranged from 5 to 17 years of ages, spread out over all eight grades. The 17-year-old was still in the second grade. He would leave school every spring for planting season and every fall for the harvest.
The superintendent would ask each grade level to come forward. He would have them read passages from books, spell words and perform mathematical tasks appropriate to the state standards for each grade level.
My grandmother told me that only when everyone could hear the motor of his car turn over as he coasted down the hill, was there was a giant sigh of relief.
I thought about these stories I heard 70 years ago as I listened to the speakers at a retirement dinner for Julian Crocker, who is stepping down as San Luis Obispo County superintendent of schools.
I’ve had the pleasure of knowing most of the superintendents from the time of Alvin Rhodes and Billy Watson in the 1960s and ’70s. None of them participated in the rigorous student “interrogations” described by my grandmother. There were still one- and two-room schoolhouses, which have long since disappeared. But the office of the superintendent was much more focused on policy and student services.
Al Rhodes said his favorite activity was attending commencement for the eighth grade graduates at Carrisa Plains Elementary School. He said it was a real celebration for the students and families who were more than 40 miles away from other schools.
One of the most difficult times for any superintendent occurred at the beginning of that office just before California became a state.
On March 9, 1850, English-born John Michael Price, in his capacity as alcalde (mayor) and juez de paz (justice of the peace), directed the ayuntamiento or town council of San Luis Obispo to create la escuela de primeras letras (the school of primary letters). A public announcement was made directing the “fathers of families to present their hijos" (children) at the appointed time and place.
Price made attendance obligatory, confirming the “public” nature of the school. In the absence of taxing authority by the county, which was technically nonexistent in 1850, revenue from court fees, fines and the sale of confiscated property paid the teachers wages.
The school met in several rooms of the Old Mission, which was privately owned at the time. The county had “appropriated (rooms) for (a) Court House, jail, school and other public purposes,” according to public records.
The first schoolmaster was Don Guillermo Searle. Searle was born in Chile to English parents. All lessons were in Spanish. There were no textbooks. Don Guillermo would read a passage from one of his own books. The children would repeat the passage phrase by phrase, until they had it memorized.
This rote method was used in schools throughout the world prior to the widespread use of the printing press. It is still used in developing countries.
The “school district” comprised the entire county. Children seeking an education would be housed with families in the tiny pueblo of San Luis Obispo.
Another problem quickly developed. How do you keep good teachers in the classroom?
To be continued.
This story was originally published December 6, 2014 at 7:28 PM with the headline "Education evolves under the watchful eyes of superintendents."