Future of Schools

Can a program designed for British diplomats fix Chicago’s schools?

PHOTO: Steve Hendershot/Chalkbeat
An International Baccalaureate class at Senn High School in Edgewater on the North Side of Chicago.

Senn High senior Shrda Shrestha is attending her neighborhood high school in Edgewater against pretty much everybody’s advice.

“When I first started looking at high schools, people were usually like, ‘It’s selective enrollment or nothing,’” said Shrestha. “Then I found out about IB.”

IB, or International Baccalaureate, is the rigorous curriculum that Chicago Public Schools hopes will improve the health of its neighborhood schools, both by improving academic outcomes and influencing the decisions of top students such as Shrestha.

The idea is that IB’s rigorous academics will both improve outcomes for low-income and black and Latino students, and also keep middle- and upper-income families from skipping on out on neighborhood schools, either in favor of one of Chicago’s 11 elite, selective-enrollment high schools or more drastic options such as private school or a move to the suburbs.

There are reasons for optimism. First, Chicago district students who complete the full IB curriculum are 40 percent more likely to attend college than a matched group of non-IB students, and also more likely to persist in college, according to a 2012 report by the University of Chicago Consortium on Chicago School Research.

That’s especially encouraging because the city’s IB students closely mirror the overall district population — mostly low-income, and mostly Latino and African-American — compared with the whiter and wealthier student populations at selective-enrollment schools.

Second, IB is helping neighborhood schools make inroads with top students, as 23 percent of kids who were admitted both to IB and selective-enrollment schools last year chose IB, according to district data — music to the ears of Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel.

IB is “becoming a true qualitative choice and competitor to the selective-enrollment schools,” Emanuel told Chalkbeat. (Read our full interview with Emanuel and Chicago schools chief Janice Jackson here.)

Indeed, IB’s success is a potential silver lining for Emanuel, who is trying to recalibrate an education legacy marked by declining enrollment and punctuated by the closing of 50 schools in 2013.

Chicago’s IB push already has survived two mayors and nine school chiefs, likely because it’s working—and indeed, the Geneva, Switzerland-based IB holds up its results in Chicago as an example of the curriculum’s potential to transform schools worldwide. Administrators here see it not just as a sell to parents but also a way to connect students and teachers around one consistent curriculum.

It’s clear that the program is different from traditional coursework, both in its rigor and its cross-disciplinary approach.

IB is “about expanding your knowledge in all subjects and then seeing that they all connect somehow,” says Senn High’s Shrestha.

From elite international schools to Chicago

The International Baccalaureate Organization developed its initial curriculum 50 years ago with the idea that the children of British diplomats living abroad could point to it as a reliable, standardized credential when applying to Cambridge and Oxford. Plenty of elite boarding schools use IB, but there’s been a dramatic shift in IB’s clientele, to the point that the organization’s biggest North American customer is Chicago Public Schools, which supports IB programming in 59 schools.

IB’s founders “would never have imagined in their wildest dreams that the people that benefit most from it seem to be kids in urban schools,” said Paul Campbell, the organization’s head of regional development in the Americas.

Now, as Chicago signals that IB is the centerpiece of its efforts to revitalize neighborhood schools, other urban districts around the country are following suit — Los Angeles, Dallas, and Milwaukee each offer IB at a handful of schools, for example. That means taking up the challenge of preparing students for a demanding curriculum.

The cornerstone of the International Baccalaureate curriculum is its Diploma Program, the intensive two-year curriculum for 11th and 12th graders. These students take seven college-level courses that include specialized exams graded by IBO staffers — the externally evaluated tests, which cost up to $291 per student, are one of the most significant costs associated with IB.

The full Diploma Program courseload is notoriously difficult, to the point where “it’s a professional joke among DP advisers that they are also on-the-ground counselors for kids struggling with the courseload,” said Charles Tocci, an education professor at Loyola University. “It’s intense and it’s heavy duty.”

The Diploma Program isn’t right for every student, even the brightest ones. Students who play sports or hold a job can find the Diploma Program to be too much—in fact, the daughter of IB’s Campbell chose not to pursue the Diploma Program because she was also in her school’s orchestra.

Students who pursue the program anyway do so while counting the cost.

PHOTO: Steve Hendershot/Chalkbeat
Senn High School Principal Mary Beck talks to students.

“I don’t sleep—that’s how I do it,” said Senn senior Lynn Trieu, who works part-time at a sushi restaurant in addition to her studies. Yet Trieu also says she has no regrets. “It’s a little harder, I can see that, but it’s also something I like because it’s challenging me.”

Not every IB student needs to sign up for the heavy-duty experience. Statistically, the program’s strong postsecondary outcomes are achieved not only by students who pass the tests and earn IB’s prestigious diploma (which is separate from a school diploma), but also to students who complete the program and graduate but don’t earn the IB Diploma. And Chicago leaders say that taking even a couple of IB-level courses enhances students’ college readiness.

Building an IB pipeline

One of the main challenges for IB in Chicago is that few students arrive in 11th grade equipped to thrive in IB’s signature, two-year Diploma Program. Even when the transition starts earlier, it can still be jarring.

Fiske Elementary in Woodlawn, for example, was certified earlier this year to offer IB’s Middle Years Program, which begins in sixth grade. Fiske Principal Cynthia Miller was immediately convinced it wasn’t enough.

“My children from pre-K to fifth grade are not exposed to that type of rigor, so it makes us work even harder to try to get them caught up,” said Miller.

Now Miller is getting her wish as part of Chicago’s latest expansion of its big bet on IB — the school will add IB’s Primary Years Program as part of a district initiative announced last month to create a citywide network of elementary and high schools.

The expanded IB curriculum not only acclimates students to the program’s intensiveness, but also starts them on a track that’s designed to improve the odds of completing the challenging diploma program.

At Senn High, for example, sophomore English students in the middle-years program spent last week comparing the rhetorical strategies employed in speeches by Michelle Obama and Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The exercise serves as a practice run for an assignment that students will be given during the diploma program.

“Our department has done a lot of work in these lower grades to get students ready for [the diploma program],” says Senn teacher Erin Riordan. “It’s useful and it’s good for us to work toward that.”

Chicago’s investment in IB’s early grades programming seems to be paying off as the number of students entering the diploma program has doubled in five years, from an average of 450 from 2012-15 to 911 last school year. (Citywide, there are 16,000 students in IB programs, but that figure includes elementary and middle programs.)

Even though it’s on the upswing, the 911 diploma-seeking high schoolers pales when compared with about 14,500 in the city’s selective-enrollment high schools.

Still, administrators say that IB’s expansion into Chicago elementary schools is useful because it funnels more students to the Diploma Program. That is a primary goal, but educators say IB’s lower-years programming, which includes extensive teacher training, is paying dividends beyond the students it sends to the Diploma Program.

“You’re creating the same expectations amongst all classrooms at a grade level,” says Lori Zaimi, principal of Peirce Elementary in Edgewater — Senn High’s IB feeder school. Without IB, “often you’ll see teachers dabbling in different training opportunities and there’s no consistency across the grade level. Now everybody’s teaching the same unit, and teachers are talking the same language, including the emphasis on things like inquiry and a global context.”

IB also emphasizes continuity by employing a handful of themes that are consistent from year to year such as “how we express ourselves,” “how the world works,” and “sharing the planet.”

Teachers implementing IB have also found the curriculum useful beyond preparing students for the Diploma Program. When Senn High added a Middle Years Program in 2013, program Director David Gregg quickly concluded “it wasn’t inherently honors level — it was really just best practices that was engaging and would help students kind of build skills and connect to their worlds.”

In response, Senn then pushed to make IB’s ninth- and 10th-grade programming the standard throughout their building, even for students who aren’t planning to enter the Diploma Program.

Compared with other premium curricular options such as the Advanced Placement courses supported by the College Board, IB’s offerings are notable for their emphasis on “sustained inquiry around topics,” said Jal Mehta, a Harvard education professor and coauthor of an upcoming book that examines attempts to remake American high schools, including IB.

Mehta said teachers “still experience the AP curriculum as essentially like racing through lots of topics fairly quickly, without opportunities for an in-depth exploration. On the whole, I think IB does a much better job of balancing breadth and depth.”

There are no externally moderated tests that measure effectiveness of the IB elementary and middle-year programs.

Becoming an IB school takes years to apply, train teachers and often rewrite the school’s mission statement to ensure that it encompasses IB’s desired level of rigor.

Every certified elementary school must teach only IB’s program, rather than offering it as one track among several. Middle year programs don’t have that restriction, but IB-only curriculum — which Chicago schools officials refer to as “wall-to-wall IB” — is the strong preference of the international organization behind the curriculum.  

A 40-year rollout aimed at access

From the beginning, Chicago’s rolled out IB as a neighborhood-school alternative to the district’s sought-after test-in high schools. Those selective schools, while high-performing, have traditionally skewed whiter and wealthier than the district’s overall student population—and their limited number of seats means that few students have access.

At Chicago’s IB high schools, in contrast, three-quarters of students in the Diploma Program are African-American or Latino, according to the University of Chicago study. “Equity has been baked into the process for IB expansion at every step,” says Kyle Westbrook, executive director of the nonprofit Partnership for College Completion and formerly the executive director of Chicago schools’ Magnet, Gifted and IB programs.

One reason for that is the federal grants that have funded much of Chicago’s IB expansion are specifically geared toward desegregation. In 1980, when Lincoln Park High became the first Chicago high school to offer IB’s Diploma Program, the school was largely African-American and Latino, and IB was intended to diversify the student body by drawing in more white students from the then-gentrifying neighborhood.

(Lincoln Park looks very different now, whiter and wealthier, and in fact its IB program was left off the University of Chicago study because it differed from the city’s other IB high schools both in demographic composition and in its highly selective admissions process.)

The early anecdotal success of Lincoln Park’s IB graduates led then schools-chief Paul Vallas to expand IB in the 1998, adding Diploma Programs in neighborhood high schools around the city: Amundsen and Senn to the north; Prosser, Steinmetz and Taft to the northwest; Clark to the west; Curie, Hubbard and Kelly to the southwest; and Bronzeville and Hyde Park to the South.

A 2012 expansion spearheaded by Emanuel increased the number of Chicago high schools offering the Diploma Program (there are now 25), but focused on adding middle-school programs to elementary schools to better prepare students for entering the Diploma Program. But IB seats remain unevenly distributed across the city, despite the program’s aim. A regional report released by the district in August showed that the city’s West Side offers very few IB seats  — a shortage made more glaring when Clark High in Austin shuttered its IB program in 2011.

One reason for the unevenness is school size. Clark, for example, has just over 500 students, whereas most IB high schools have more than 1,000. “The West Side of Chicago is still an area where there’s an opportunity, but there’s a challenge in terms of the numbers, because to really to make it cost effective, schools have to really be of a certain size,” said Westbrook.

Despite those regional gaps, the IB initiative is largely fulfilling its mission to bring a premium offering to neighborhood schools. 

Latino students make up the largest single ethnic group within IB, and their experience within the program is different than that of African-Americans. Students from both groups enroll in ninth-grade IB classes in similar numbers, but Latinos are far more likely to enter the Diploma Program in 11th grade, according to the 2012 study.

One reason could be affinity with the curriculum: A 2015 doctoral dissertation by Chicago schools educator Sandra Arreguín found that Latino students were especially drawn to IB’s international focus. And Latino students are likely to have a leg up when it comes to IB’s emphasis on learning multiple languages. Senn High even offers a special track with a bilingual version of the IB Diploma.

“It helps close the achievement gap,” said IBO’s Campbell. “Instead of taking the advantage that these kids have and trying to put it aside, we take it and build on it.”

Can it last?

The addition of more early-years programs and establishment of IB feeder-school relationships like the one between Senn and Peirce open the door for parents to start their 3-year-old children on an IB track in hopes that — without leaving their neighborhood schools — the children will be prepared to thrive in a Diploma Program when they reach their junior year.

But that assumes that IB will still be around, which is hardly a given considering the program’s expense and the pending change in mayoral administration. Emanuel, an IB advocate, announced last month he won’t seek re-election. IB schools pay $11,650 each year to offer the Diploma Program, and slightly less to offer the Middle Years and Early Years Programs. That’s separate from the added faculty and faculty-training costs associated with IB, as well as the costs associated with IB testing.

“I’ve felt skeptical about IB’s long-term viability, because it’s expensive,” said Loyola’s Tocci. “When the district’s budgets were tight a few years ago, I expected IB would go on chopping block.”

Yet IB has plenty working in its favor, too. For one, educators such as Mehta say that developing an alternative, premium curriculum in house would likely be at least as expensive, and probably less effective. And the program has already survived several different administrations within Chicago schools, as well as two mayors.

“IB has been one of the only things that’s stuck around and withstood [the changes],” said Westbrook. “It would be hard for me to imagine the district unwinding that.”

 

capital crunch

As New York City’s public housing crumbles, pre-K centers go without crucial repairs

PHOTO: Christina Veiga/Chalkbeat
Yvette Ho, right, taps out a request to NYCHA to fix a leaky roof at CPC Jacob Riis Child Care Center. Meanwhile, a student shows her art project to Mary Cheng, who oversees early childhood programs for the Chinese-American Planning Council, a nonprofit that runs the daycare.

The tables where children would normally play had been dragged to create a makeshift barrier, blocking the 3- and 4-year olds from their favorite centers and from a growing puddle on the floor.

The ceiling at CPC Jacob Riis Child Care Center in the East Village was leaking again.

Center director Yvette Ho rushed to the classroom to survey the damage. On her phone, she tapped out a repair request to the landlord — NYCHA, New York City’s public housing authority.

“This is the perennial leak,” she said. “Just when you think it’s fixed, it comes back again.”

Decades of divestment, neglect, and mismanagement have left NYCHA buildings crumbling, forcing the city to give up some of its control of the housing authority to a federal overseer in an agreement struck last month. The plight of residents has been well documented in media reports and a scathing investigation by the U.S. Attorney’s office in Manhattan, which uncovered out-of-service elevators, faulty heaters, and health hazards like rodent infestations, mold, and lead paint.

But few realize that nestled within those buildings are about 100 child care centers that serve infants and toddlers even while critically needed repairs stack up. Mostly run by nonprofits that rent space from NYCHA, those programs offer a lifeline for families, often earning high marks from the city’s reviewers while also providing subsidized or free care for almost 5,000 children.

The programs face citations for facilities issues more often than programs in buildings leased from private landlords, a survey by the Day Care Council of New York found recently. Though it’s not always clear who is responsible for making repairs, operators can face burdensome fines.

Providers “have to dig into their own pockets,” said Mai Miksic, a research analyst for the Day Care Council. “They’re paying fines for problems that aren’t theirs.”

Groups representing nonprofit providers operating out of NYCHA community centers have begun to join together to advocate for changes, and they say officials have shown interest in taking action. They also say they know that their needs represent only a sliver of the pressing facilities problems facing the country’s largest public housing agency and its residents. Remediation of lead paint in agency apartments where children live is behind schedule, and the city estimates that NYCHA needs a total of more than $30 billion in repairs and upgrades.

Day care centers alone require $130 million in fixes, according to NYCHA. That figure likely does not include problems that affect the entire buildings where the centers are located, such as boilers that need replacing.

The Jacob Riis houses, which were hit hard by Hurricane Sandy, needs almost $94 million in renovations over the next five years, including heating upgrades and drainage work, according to city figures.

The Chinese-American Planning Council, a 54-year-old social services organization that runs daycares and community programs in Lower Manhattan and Queens, has cared for small children in the complex for decades. It currently uses three classrooms in the basement of one of the towers, including one — the one with the persistent leak — that is part of Mayor Bill de Blasio’s heralded Pre-K for All program.

Staff and children at the center have a front-row seat to the building’s problems. A steam pipe in the main hallway frequently bursts. With every explosion, waterlogged ceiling tiles come crashing down and the center’s only bathroom for children becomes off-limits due to dripping, scalding-hot water. NYCHA has encased the temperamental pipe in a makeshift closet.

At times, the facility’s troubles have seemed too disruptive for the Chinese-American Planning Council to justify keeping its center in the building. All the garbage for the tower piles into a compactor room in the middle of the center. The only way to empty it, twice a day, is to haul the trash past classrooms and out an open door.

But Mary Cheng, the director of childhood services for the planning council, said they’ve resolved to stay because closing isn’t a good option, either — not for kids of such a young age, who thrive on stability, and not for parents who rely on the center’s longer hours so they can work to support their families.

We had to think: Are we being a service to the community or a disservice?” Cheng asked. “You’re faced with the issue of constant facility issues.”

Operators say they stay because NYCHA centers are usually where their services can have the most impact, and because the more affordable rent allows them to stretch their dollars even further.

“These buildings were built with community spaces for a reason. Neighborhoods need places for people to gather,” said Melissa Aase, the executive director of University Settlement, a nonprofit that runs programs for seniors and after-school care in NYCHA buildings. “If we’re crumbling, it sends a really powerful message to the residents about their worth.”

NYCHA says it takes just over 10 days for the authority to respond to repair requests in community centers — a much shorter turnaround of more than a month across the system. Still, it’s a long window that advocates say has sometimes forced programs to shut their doors or even have their licenses yanked.

The nonprofit Union Settlement runs five early childhood centers in NYCHA buildings across East Harlem. Sometimes, they’ve had to turn parents away who come to drop off their children in the morning because the classrooms are unbearably cold in the winter. The group is usually able to make space at another facility when an emergency forces one to close, but the sudden change can pose a “huge hardship” for families who need to get to work on time, said David Nocenti, the executive director.

“The same problems that the residents have, the nonprofits have as we’re trying to serve those residents,” Nocenti said. “Just like boilers go out in residential buildings and there’s no heat, the same boiler generally affects the community centers as well.”

Facilities breakdowns can leave operators vulnerable to fines from the city health department, which can reach thousands of dollars. Most programs operating in NYCHA centers are subsidized by city, state, and federal funds, but typically public money can’t be used to cover the citations. At Jacob Riis, the staff has resorted to “simple fundraisers” like bake sales to pay the fines, Cheng said. 

Centers take more than just a budgetary hit, as resolving the citations usually requires managers or other high-ranking officials spending hours at a city hearing.

“It’s also a loss of the staff and a loss of the expertise at that time as well,” Nocenti said. “If the department of health comes and you have no heat, you get fined for no heat, even though we don’t control the boiler and can’t make repairs to the boiler.”

Aase said her organization has sometimes dug into its own budget to make repairs to keep its after-school and senior programs open. One University Settlement center has paid deep cleanings after 17 sewage floods in the course 12 months, she said, while another center with a rodent infestation has closed 10 times over the span of a year and required spending on extermination services.

A record of citations could pose problems for operators vying for city contracts, so it’s better to pay for fixes than risk your reputation, Aase said.

“When you have violations, it shows up as you’re being vetted,” she said. “We spend our own money because we know either that NYCHA doesn’t have the funds or doesn’t have the personnel to address the issue quickly enough, and community members want to come back.”

Calling themselves the NYCHA Community Space Coalition, service providers that run more than 200 programs within public housing facilities have drawn up an action plan for addressing what they say is an emergency situation. They are calling for state money to help pay for repairs, and reimbursement from the city when operators tap their own budgets for fixes. They are also asking for agreements that plainly spell out NYCHA’s responsibilities and a clear delineation of who is responsible for which fines.

There have been encouraging signs, said J.T. Falcone, a policy analyst with United Neighborhood Houses, one of the organizations behind the coalition. NYCHA is meeting weekly with other city agencies to help speed up repairs, and Falcone said the authority has designated specific people to oversee work on pressing issues.

Locally, there have been small changes that can make a notable difference in the day-to-day operation of a center. At Jacob Riis, the trash is now taken out once before students arrive in the morning, and a lock has been placed on the door to the compactor room which had previously been left open and posed a potential risk to children.

While providers have found willing partners, a NYCHA official suggested there’s only so much that can be done when faced with such deep needs across the housing authority.

“These centers are valuable assets to our communities that deserve to be preserved. But given NYCHA’s dire financial position and more than $30 billion in capital needs, it is difficult to accommodate both the repairs needed to secure our residents’ homes as well as the fixes for our centers,” a NYCHA spokesman wrote in an email. “We continue to work with our partners to clearly lay out roles and responsibilities for each party to determine the best strategy for financing existing repair needs within the context of NYCHA’s larger capital needs.”

These thorny problems will soon fall also to the city’s education department to help resolve.

Currently, contracts for publicly subsidized child-care centers are overseen by the Administration for Children’s Services. But that oversight is set to shift to the education department beginning this summer, part of a high-stakes effort to streamline services for the city’s children from birth through high school. Already, the education department has joined NYCHA’s regular meetings with other city agencies.

We’ll continue to work closely with our providers in NYCHA facilities and support them through this transition,” education department spokeswoman Isabelle Boundy wrote in an email.

For now, parents are left to keep their fingers crossed as they make use of programs that the mayor says could transform their children’s lives — and the city’s future.

Dexter Fauntleroy drops off his son at Jacob Riis most mornings. Three-year-old Kenai has gone to daycare there for most of his short life. Fauntleroy and his wife have kept their youngest son enrolled at the center, just down the street from their apartment in the Lillian Wald houses, because they’re impressed with how much Kenai has learned and the dedication they see from the staff.

Of course, Fauntleroy has noticed the persistent leaks and patch-job repairs. The thought that the roof could come crashing down on students someday has crossed his mind.

“Does that have to happen before it’s taken seriously?” he asked. “There has to be some accountability.”

College Access

How an effort to prepare Michigan high schoolers for college slipped through the cracks

The proposal to make it easier for students to earn college credit while still in high school seemed like the rare education policy idea with no natural enemies in the Michigan legislature.

When a bill was proposed in the Republican-controlled Senate, it passed in a unanimous vote.

Then it vanished — apparently pushed aside by more pressing concerns.

“Boy, we must have just missed it,” said Tim Kelly, a former representative who, as chairman of the house committee on education, had the power to bring the bill to a vote last year. “I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t have been in favor.”

Advocates of so-called dual enrollment are hoping their next attempt won’t meet the same fate. They want to lift a cap on state-funded college courses that students can take while still in high school. Dual enrollment is widely considered to be one of the most powerful ways to increase the number of people who earn college degrees.

In her State of the State address, Gov. Gretchen Whitmer promised to sharply increase the number of Michiganders with degrees to 60 percent by 2030. That number currently hovers around 43 percent, putting Michigan in the bottom third of states.

Michigan is one of five states that limit dual enrollment; its limit is the strictest of any state. Advocates say that limiting students to 10 college courses in four years is unusual and unnecessary.

The cap is not the only obstacle preventing students from earning valuable experiences — not to mention college credits — before they turn 18.

It may not even be the most significant. When advocates worry that the growth of dual enrollment in Michigan is slowing, they lay much of the blame on financial incentives that give schools little reason to help students dual enroll.

“I think we should look at [lifting the cap], but we should also look at the funding mechanism,” said Brenda Carter, a state representative who serves on the house education committee. “How many schools in Michigan are limited in what they can offer their students because of funding?”

Schools are required to pay roughly $7,800 in annual tuition for students who choose to take college courses, and some have suggested that the state should help offset those costs.

But any new funding for dual enrollment would require a political battle. Lifting the cap, less so.

That’s why supporters of lifting the cap were so bemused when, last year, a bill that had garnered strong bipartisan support in the Senate never went to a vote in the House.

“That was really surprising,” said Brandy Johnson, executive director of the Michigan College Access Network, a nonprofit that aims to increase the number of students who earn college degrees. In a 2015 report, the organization called for the legislature to “eliminate restrictive rules” surrounding dual enrollment.

Johnson guessed that the 2018 dual enrollment bill slipped through the cracks in part because of its relatively low profile. It was eclipsed in the news cycle by an ongoing debate about school funding and by a political furor over social studies learning standards.

Several legislators told Chalkbeat they didn’t know that dual enrollment is capped.

Among them are Carter and Dayna Polehanki, a Democrat who was elected to the senate in November and is now a vice-chair of the Senate’s education committee, said she became familiar with dual enrollment while working as a high school teacher in Macomb County.

She thought it was good for her students, but said she wanted to learn more about the cap before making up her mind. She pointed out that if students decided to take courses at a community college that were already offered at their local school, schools could find themselves paying for teachers and for students’ community college tuition.

“I can see both sides of that issue,” she said.

The Republican chairs and vice-chairs of both the Senate and House education committees did not respond to requests for comment on Wednesday.

Advocates of dual enrollment say it’s worth sorting out the challenges that could come with allowing high schoolers to take unlimited college credits.

With the cap lifted, high school students could earn a diploma from a traditional high school and simultaneously complete a technical certification or an associates degree from a community college. Those students would save money on college credits, and they would finish high school better-prepared for college than peers who’d never set foot in a college classroom.

Lifting the cap “expands access for students, especially low-income students,” Johnson said.

She warned that not all high schoolers are ready to take a heavy college course load. If the cap is lifted, she said, the state should also make sure that students meet a “readiness threshold” — perhaps a minimum standardized test score — before being allowed to dive into college coursework.

But she added that after the bill passed the Senate last year, she believed it had a chance in 2019.

“I am very hopeful,” she said.

Kelly, who reached his term limit in the house last year, said he hopes his former colleagues take a second look at the issue.

“I would hope somebody does,” he said.