By Mark Hyatt, CEP President and CEO
Last June in Lower Manhattan, more than 80 students were charged with cheating at one of New York City’s most highly rated public schools—Stuyvesant High School. This revelation, which was still being investigated at press time, took me back to my days as President of the Center for Academic Integrity (CAI) at Duke University a decade ago.
At CAI’s annual conference seven years ago, our keynote speaker was Randy Cohen, author of “The Ethicist” columns in The New York Times Sunday Magazine. In that role, which he filled until last year, Cohen routinely tackled the thorniest moral dilemmas and wrote regularly on issues of character, ethics, integrity and choice. The theme of his speech to CAI a decade ago was that we won’t have ethical students until we have ethical educators—teachers, administrators and other stakeholders—leading the way. He told us how his daughter, then a junior at the Stuyvesant School, had come home one day and said that “everybody cheats at this great school.” Cohen recalled that he was shocked and so decided to investigate a bit on his own. He soon found that, yes, his daughter was right—the vast majority of students at this top public school admitted that they cheated to get ahead. Cohen explained to us that the pressure on these students to get good grades and gain admission to Ivy League Schools was overwhelming and ever-present. And the students’ presumed role models—faculty, staff, parents—all reinforced this notion that Ivy League-level grades were “expected,” period. No excuses.
Ten years later, the situation apparently has not changed. In June, the Times spoke to several Stuyvesant students about the latest scandal and concluded that “cheating was a symptom of a broader and more widespread problem with priorities at Stuyvesant, where competition for top rankings is intense.” Referring to cheating, one 17-year-old junior there told the newspaper, “Unfortunately, it’s a strong part of the culture” at the school and that he wished “there was more of an emphasis on trying to learn.” Added a 15-year-old sophomore, “I don’t cheat. My grades suffer because of that.”
According to the Times, even Stuyvesant’s student newspaper, The Spectator, had called for more moral leadership from the adults. Two years ago, it conceded in an editorial that “academic dishonesty is firmly entrenched” but rarely punished at the school. “If you walk down any hallway in the building, you are almost guaranteed to see students copying homework,” the article observed.
What is wrong with this picture? The trouble at Stuyvesant and so many other schools is that, as a society, we tell students to do the right thing and not to cheat—even to follow institutional honor codes, where they exist. But as the saying goes: “We get what we inspect not what we expect.” In fact, we venerate the motivational maxims of people like legendary coach Vince Lombardi, who famously said, “Winning isn’t everything—it’s the only thing.” So, should we really be surprised when we see that mentality manifest itself in locker rooms, board rooms and classrooms? We set up our students for failure because they’ll do whatever it takes to give us what we say we value—results—no matter what we tell them the rules are. As school leaders, we are communicating values 24/7. The way we dress; the way we talk; the jokes we tell; the friends we choose; all convey who we are. And our students are watching. They see us both on and off the job. Not long ago, when I served in the role of school superintendent in Colorado, I remember gathering elementary school students in a gymnasium one day for a “character” lesson. I spelled out what was expected of them. They were all to: Do the right thing—even when no one was watching; Treat everyone with respect; Keep their promises, and; Take responsibility for their actions. I also encouraged them to SAY SOMETHING when they see one of us doing something wrong. What we tolerate from each other is what we become, I explained.
Finally, I added that they all had permission to tell me, respectfully, if they saw me doing something wrong. I assured them that I would be respectful, too, if the situation were reversed. Sure enough, the next day I was walking through the school parking lot talking on my cell phone during student pick-up time and I strayed outside the lines of the crosswalk. An alert third grader called out: “Mr. Hyatt, you’re breaking the rules!” I quickly realized my mistake, said I was sorry and turned off my phone. Then I thanked the student for his “help.”
But later, I thought, what would that student have learned had I become angry or had I ignored him, or even worse, had I punished him? It would have been a devastating and unforgettable experience, one that likely would have jaded him for life.
Understandably, the youngster would have felt betrayed. But isn’t that essentially what we are doing when we teach one value and reward another? “Success with character is great, but success without it is fine, too.” Is that really the lesson we want them to learn?
On the contrary, character demands consistency. We reap what we sow. So, our priorities and our goals need to be consistent with our values. And the adults, and especially school administrators, need to remember that the school of life is always in session.
