Throwing more money at government-run schools makes no sense to me. There's a far better option for wealthy individuals if they want to make a real difference in the lives of children. Rather than feeding a political system dedicated to assorted special interests, they should give to private schools, especially parochial schools, such as Catholic and Lutheran schools.
I spelled it out as a subplot in Root of All Evil? A Pastor Stephen Grant Novel. Consider the chapter that follows:
Chapter 22
Part of Mike Vanacore’s story seemed
to be a replay of others’ in the computer, digital, broadband economy.
The thirty-two-year-old billionaire
fell in love with electronics and computers while growing up in Hawthorne,
California, which happened to be the Beach Boys’ hometown. Vanacore’s
hard-working parents supported his interests and talents as best they could,
and rejoiced when his excellent grades in high school, particularly in math and
science, earned him a full ride to the School of Engineering at Stanford
University.
Since they were intense gamers,
Vanacore and two college friends decided to do more than complain about the shortcomings
of various video games. By their sophomore year, they were consumed by creating
their own video games, and managed to generate some buzz. Vanacore’s buddies,
however, moved on under parental pressure when grades slipped badly.
But Vanacore had little trouble
maintaining high marks, while at the same time creating a video game business.
He found a couple of angel investors
to provide start-up capital, and by his senior year, Corevana Entertainment had
grown to more than 100 employees, and $30 million in sales.
But rather than dropping out to focus
exclusively on his firm, as other young tech turks had done, Vanacore finished
his degree. After graduation, Corevana’s growth only accelerated, and its
initial public offering made Mike Vanacore a billionaire at the age of 26.
Along the way, Vanacore became known
in various circles for maintaining his Christian faith taught to him growing
up. Compared to some of his fellow tech nerds, who earned reputations for power
trips and/or wild parties that came with newfound wealth, Vanacore was
highlighted now and then in the business media for being, well, Christian.
As the U.S. Episcopal Church wandered
away from the traditional Episcopal parish of his childhood, Vanacore actually
spoke out. Some in the Episcopal Church took notice given his wealth and youth,
but he was quickly discounted as just another “conservative” who refused to
change with the culture. Some noted the irony of such criticisms given how he
made his fortune.
When Vanacore decided to buy a home
across the country on Long Island as an occasional escape from his
California-based business, he stumbled upon St. Bart’s one Sunday. He
apparently fell in love with the beautiful, castle-like stone church set on
four lakeside acres in Eastport, and most importantly, with what was being
taught and preached in the building. When the parish decided to leave the
Episcopal Church, eventually joining the Anglican Church in North America, it
was Vanacore who ponied up a majority of the funds needed to purchase St.
Bart’s property from the local Episcopal diocese.
Vanacore was now expanding his
charitable giving into primary and secondary education. His plan was to use his
wealth to make substantive changes in individual local public schools, that is,
in the kind of school he attended.
But his parish priest, Father Tom
Stone, was about to ask Vanacore to listen to an alternative.
On the way out of Mass on Saturday
night, Stone asked Vanacore if he had a little time to talk.
Ten minutes later, they were seated in
Stone’s office, talking across the priest’s unique redwood, surfboard-shaped
desk. A friend and parishioner had the desk specially made as a gift, given
Stone’s off-duty love of wearing Hawaiian shirts, and his high school and
college years spent living and surfing in southern California.
In fact, though about 20 years apart,
Stone and Vanacore shared more than a common faith, but also a southern
California connection.
Vanacore ran his right hand along the
front of the desk. “As I said before, you have the best desk ever. A surfboard.
Love it.”
“It was a gift from Clint Gullett.
Handmade. It’s a great reminder of my California days. I’m sure he’d be glad to
let you know who makes them,” replied Stone.
“I’ll ask him. So, when was the last
time you hit the surf?”
Stone laughed. “It’s been at least,
what, 25 years.”
Vanacore slipped into a mock surfer
voice, and declared, “Dude, we have to remedy that.”
With his thin, tall frame, topped off
by thick blond hair, and Clark Kent glasses, it was easy to see Vanacore moving
comfortably in either the video gaming or surfing communities.
The young billionaire continued, “But
I’m sure you didn’t ask me to stop by to talk about surfing.”
Stone replied, “No. Ever since you
told me about the education foundation you’re starting up, something has been
nagging at me. But I was not sure if it was my place to say anything, and then
I got a call this morning.”
“Tom, you know I’m open to hearing
your ideas and thoughts on anything, and considering that you’re a priest, and
therefore, you teach people, I’d love to hear what’s on your mind.”
“I appreciate that. I know your focus
is on targeting and helping select public schools.”
“Right.”
“Have you thought about supporting
parochial schools instead, or as well?’
Vanacore paused. “Well, not really. I
went to public schools growing up, and that’s kind of guided my thinking on
this.”
“I can understand that. But given what
you’ve told me about your childhood and your parents, do you think they would
have sent you to a Christian school if they could have afforded it?”
“Actually, I have no doubt about that.
I remember overhearing them talking about it late into the night at the kitchen
table, and regretting they couldn’t afford it.”
“Today, it’s even tougher. Most
families simply can’t take on the added cost of a religious education for their
kids.”
“Like my parents. I understand that.
But does it matter? I went to public school, and it was my parents, our priest
and parish that kept me in the faith.”
“I’d say you were very lucky then.
Given the state of our culture, it’s not easy to keep kids strong and active in
the faith. Listen, Maggie and I have sent all our children to parochial school,
and they obviously have gotten an up-close-and-personal church experience
growing up as well. But when you consider the impact that schools have on
children, just given the time spent in school and what’s being taught, there is
that possibility of what’s being taught at home getting undermined in school.
We only saw the upside in sending the kids to parochial school.”
“Yeah, that used to drive my parents
nuts. My father complained about having to undo what was being done in school
at times.”
“Now think about how many parents
don’t even know what’s going on and being taught in school, or when they do
know, not having the confidence to take it on, like your father did.”
Vanacore took his glasses off, and
chewed on one of its arms. After a few seconds, he put the glasses back on his
face. “Okay, Tom, you make a good case. What more were you thinking? What was
the call about that stirred you to set up this little meeting?”
“As you know, the school that Maggie
and I sent the kids to, and still send one, is St. Luke’s Catholic School. It’s
been a tremendous blessing. And by the way, make no mistake, you can send your
children to what you think is a faithful, traditional Christian school, and
even then it unfortunately can turn out to be something different. But that
most certainly has not been the case with St. Luke’s.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“Absolutely. However, there is a lot
of uncertainty about the school’s future, given recent closings of Catholic
schools. I’m not asking this because of my family’s link, but because St.
Luke’s is a great place and it’s in the midst of planning how to grow and
secure its future. I thought it would be an ideal opportunity for you to talk
to the people who run a quality parochial school, see what the school offers, and
consider the challenges it faces.” Stone paused. “I can set up a meeting or
meetings with Father Burns and Father McDermott, the principal, Mrs. Fleming,
staff, parents, whatever. What do you think?”
“I would love to meet with the people
at St. Luke’s.”
“That’s great. Shall I set it up?”
Vanacore smiled. “Yes, but on one
condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Before the end of the year, you have
to promise to come out to my place in California and go surfing. The entire
family is invited, and you’ll fly on my jet.”
“Mike, that’s really nice, but I …”
“No ‘buts,’ Tom. Either you promise to
get back on the board at my place, or no deal on meeting with St. Luke’s.”
It was Stone’s turn to smile. “You
drive a hard bargain, Mike. Take a free trip to surf in California, or else? What
can I say, but yes, and thanks?”
“It’ll be sick.”
After Mike left, Tom called a friend
for a little guidance on the economics of education.
No comments:
Post a Comment