Technology

ONLINE HOMEWORK

Illinois' efforts to get computer technology into schools
is starting to pay off. But some districts are still struggling

by Jessica Winski

Patrick can flip through his school- work without opening a book. With a point and a click, the fourth- grader can open an electronic file of his work on a computer instead. The first screen features his school picture and all the vital statistics (name, age, grade). There's a menu for math, writing, art projects, audio reading samples, reflections. A recording of Patrick's voice explains what went into each project.

Patrick, a student at Edgar Allen Poe Elementary School in Arlington Heights, was among the 750 people, mostly students and teachers, who attended the inaugural Illinois Student Technology Conference in Oak Brook in March.

His presentation was just one of .dozens demonstrating the tantalizing potential of technology in schools. And it reflects the reality that Illinois' efforts to put schools online is starting to pay off. Ranked 49th out of the 50 states on that score in 1995, Illinois is catching up. At that time, less than one-third of the state's schools had access to the Internet. The State Board of Education now reports that three- quarters of Illinois' schools are online. And schools have further decreased the number of students per computer, a common measure of technology integration. Nevertheless, computer technology is still too expensive for some cash- strapped schools scrambling to meet even traditional educational needs. And schools that do have the technology may lack teachers trained to use it. Linking schools to the Internet and other computer technology is one of the hottest education topics of the 1990s. Educators and national leaders alike champion its merits. After all, what else allows students at Chicago's Einstein Elementary, located on the city's South Side near the Ida B. Wells housing complex, to talk online with civil rights activist Rosa Parks?

Illustration by Mike Cramer

More important, surfing the Web and manipulating a mouse will be the required job skills of the future. "We are now in a global economy; we need to be able to compete," says Lugene Finley, associate superintendent of the State Board of Education's Learning Technologies Center. According to one estimate, within two years at least 60 percent of the nation's jobs will require computer proficiency.

President Bill Clinton is a strong advocate, calling for the connection of every classroom in America to the Internet by the year 2000. But despite the success of students like Patrick, Illinois is a long way from that goal.

While almost three-quarters of Illinois' schools had Internet access last year, that access varies. Some schools have state-of-the-art computer labs, while others may have no computers linked to the Internet, or just one. By comparison, Vermont and Hawaii lead the nation with about 90 percent of their schools exploring cyberspace.

And while Illinois has decreased the number of students per computer, this improvement is also misleading. Most old computers can't use the latest software or connect to the Internet. "They're basically electronic keyboards," says Jim Carter, principal of both the grade school and the junior high school in Sparland. A tiny town north of Peoria, Sparland has a junior high computer lab stocked with ancient machines, some of which "don't even have hard drives."

But upgrades take cash. And though Illinois has spent $93 million since 1995 on technology for schools, that's just a drop in the bucket compared to other states' spending. Our neighbor Ohio, for example, serves 200,000 fewer students but has spent four times as much as Illinois. And Georgia spent $65 per student on technology in 1995, while Florida spent $51. Illinois spent a comparatively low $8 per student in 1996. "We need more dollars. We are

38 / May 1998 Illinois Issues

appreciative of the dollars we have received. But we need much more," says Finley.

Much of Illinois' spending — indeed, another $43 million this fiscal year — has gone toward building a statewide network to link each of the state's school districts with a highspeed computer line. In turn, schools are responsible for buying the necessary hardware and software. That's impossible for many.

"We must make sure that this revolution of technology helps people not just in [relatively wealthy] DuPage County, but also on [Chicago's] Division Street," William Kennard, chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, said recently.

But the revolution isn't making it to all schools at the same rate, as State School Superintendent Joseph Spagnolo heard from students at the conference.

During a "chat session," Spagnolo told the students he wanted a "no holds barred" discussion about technology in their schools. The kids heeded his words: "We have nothing," proclaimed a curly-haired junior high student from a school of 125 in Genoa, which is near DeKalb.

In fact, schools short on cash are increasingly turning to the private sector for help. McDonald's, for instance, recently gave the Marengo- Union school district in McHenry County money to buy new computers for preschool and kindergarten students. And Einstein Elementary has received help from Ameritech and Microsoft. Technology mogul Bill Gates even visited the school to watch students using the two Internet- connected computers his company donated.

But even after a school has the technology in place, there's a chance state-of-the-art computers will sit untouched in the back of the classroom.

"It's no good having a computer unless someone knows how to use it," says Phyllis Tate, principal of Einstein Elementary School. And that someone needs to be the teacher. Studies across the country are finding that they're not using computers in the curriculum, even when they are available. In some cases that's because schools are buying computers and software before they have anyone trained to use them.

"I know more about computers than 90 percent of my teachers," one student complained. Principal Carter says that's because some teachers are afraid. "But kids aren't afraid; they hop right on."

To help teachers overcome their fear, Carter's school board came up with a plan: It offered teachers the chance to buy computers through a payroll deduction. The teachers who participated — about 40 from Carter's schools — then learned to use the technology at home.

For its part, the state school board has seven hubs across the state to train teachers in technology and provide schools with technical assistance.

Additionally, the board requires that 25 percent of any technology grant be spent on professional development.

But most teachers would be hard- pressed to keep up with many kids. Conversations at the conference were peppered with technospeak: random access memory (RAM), virtual reality modeling, gigabytes, multimedia enhancement. And whenever a glitch stalled a presentation, it was the students who sat at the keyboard matching wits with the computer while their teachers hovered behind.

"The technology that comes so naturally to you is really hard for us," Spagnolo told the kids.

Indeed, some students are moving full-speed into the "Information Age." But even they say this state's information superhighway has yet to be paved for everyone.

MORE THAN BELLS AND WHISTLES To Jan Sefcik, technology doesn't mean Internet search engines and CD-ROMs churning out information for student research papers. Instead, it helps her special education students meet more basic needs: getting from the classroom to the bus that will take them home, for instance. "Our kids need technology so much more," says Sefcik, computer specialist for the North Suburban Special Education District, which serves Chicago's North Shore area. To help her physically and developmentally disabled students, Sefcik launched a program capitalizing on the skills of students at the North Shore Academy, a Highland Park school for emotionally and behaviorally disturbed children. With special software, North Shore's students create programs individually suited to each of Sefcik's students. Eric, for example, has created a program to help Kate learn to recognize her name: Her scanned photograph is in the middle of the screen next to a list of possible names. She has to pick the right one. When she makes the wrong choice, she hears Eric's voice prompting her to try again. Sefcik began by training other special education teachers to develop these specialized programs. But then she found it was easier to have the North Shore students do it. "They get a sense of reward that comes from seeing someone appreciate what they've done," says Debbi Hjelle, faculty advisor for the program. "The teachers tell them how the programs have made a tremendous difference in the lives of their students." "Everybody wins," adds Sefcik, "the teachers, special education students and North Shore Students." Jessica Winski

Illinois Issues May 1998 / 39