69传媒

After arriving as a freshman at Dickinson College in 1978, Jeanne Allen wrote a letter to her high school principal.

It wasn鈥檛 a thank-you note.

She complained that her education thus far had been lacking, at least compared with that of her classmates at the Pennsylvania liberal arts college. It was a brash claim for an A student from the affluent suburb of Allendale, N.J.

鈥淚 just said I was shocked that I could get through with the grades I got and feel like I was unprepared to do college work,鈥� Ms. Allen said recently as she told the story. 鈥淚 was mad.鈥�

Jeanne Allen is still mad. It would be hard to find a more outspoken champion of alternatives to regular public schools. Through the Center for Education Reform here, which she founded 10 years ago, she has supplied an arsenal of ammunition in the battle for charter schools and vouchers and a steady stream of jabs at teachers鈥� unions, school boards, and others she collectively dismisses as 鈥渢he blob.鈥�

She churns out newsletters, op-ed articles, and testimony to lawmakers at a dizzying clip. The center鈥檚 Web site gets more than 1 million hits a year, she says. She helped form the Education Leaders Council, a Washington group of mostly conservative, charter-friendly state education officials.

And she has shaped the debate over how charter schools should be regulated with her reports characterizing 鈥渟trong鈥� and 鈥渨eak鈥� state charter laws.

Her work has won her friends in high places. At a black-tie event held here last month to celebrate the CER鈥檚 first decade, Ms. Allen drew gushing praise from Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, Wal-Mart heir John Walton, and Sen. Judd Gregg of New Hampshire, the Republican who chairs the Senate education committee. U.S. Secretary of Education Rod Paige called her 鈥渁n American hero.鈥�

Others can鈥檛 stand her. They bristle at the way she equates 鈥渟chool reform鈥� with school choice, and at how she pounces on anyone who expresses skepticism toward charters and vouchers.

鈥淣obody鈥檚 ever called her subtle,鈥� said Gerald W. Bracey, an Alexandria, Va.-based education researcher who has been skewered on the center鈥檚 Web site. 鈥淪he鈥檚 mean. She really goes for the jugular.鈥�

Even some within the charter movement say privately that her confrontational style and conservative views don鈥檛 help at a time when they鈥檙e trying to build new alliances. Ms. Allen has opposed legislative deals struck by local charter leaders on the grounds that the measures threatened charter school autonomy, and she recently pulled out of efforts to form a national coalition of pro-charter-school organizations.

Ms. Allen has no plans to back down or to soften her approach. She sees her cause in the starkest of terms, often comparing it to the battle against Jim Crow in the 1950s. 鈥淭hey didn鈥檛 stand up and say, 鈥極K, fine, we鈥檒l take the bus, but not the water fountain,鈥� '' she said of civil rights leaders.

Stirring Things Up

Jeanne Allen is part policy wonk, part angry mom. Her scrappy office here on K Street, N.W., the epicenter of Washington lobbying firms and law offices, is papered with student artwork鈥攖he messy kind made with glitter, finger paint, and colored paper.

Despite her work schedule, she does lunch and recess duty at the Roman Catholic school that her youngest child attends in a suburb just outside the city limits. (Her three older children go to an independent day school.) And she鈥檚 adamant about being home for dinner.

鈥淚 feel like I really understand parents a lot more than people who are supposedly in the business of understanding parents,鈥� Ms. Allen said.

Juggling work and family has become more of challenge since her husband, who worked in public affairs, died of throat cancer this past spring. Ms. Allen, who is 43 and whose children range in age from 9 to 14, impressed many at his funeral by giving a eulogy.

Ms. Allen, born Jeanne Abate, grew up the youngest of four children of Italian immigrants. (She points out that her father got through engineering school and achieved the American dream without affirmative action.) Her parents weren鈥檛 much for politics, but they didn鈥檛 mince words. 鈥淚鈥檓 actually probably a lot more tactful than they are,鈥� she said.

Her entree into the political arena began with a receptionist鈥檚 job in the office of then-U.S. Rep. Marge Roukema, a New Jersey Republican. She later served under Secretary of Education William J. Bennett in the federal Education Department鈥檚 office of higher education and worked for the Heritage Foundation as an education analyst.

She founded the Center for Education Reform in 1993 with a $33,000 gift from Jerry Hume, a former member of the California state board of education. She now has a $2 million budget and a staff of 14.

The center, which Ms. Allen embodies, doesn鈥檛 just promote school choice鈥攊t agitates for it. It鈥檚 as quick to point out the faults of public schools as it is to sell the idea of charters and vouchers. Ms. Allen calls the crusade 鈥渄iscontenting the contented"鈥攅ssentially waking people up to the notion that public education, in her opinion, isn鈥檛 all it鈥檚 cracked up to be.

Despite her high-powered fans, she claims to speak for the little guy. Her thesis is that public schools have turned their backs on parents, caring more for the people who run them than for the students who attend them. Her message is: There is an alternative.

鈥淭he reason I鈥檓 on this side is because I鈥檓 on the right side,鈥� Ms. Allen said. 鈥淐hoice is a natural state of man.鈥�

In plain-talking publications, she teaches parents how to lobby school boards and talk to the press. She tells them that the best charter laws have the least restrictions, and that the best curricula stress traditional teaching methods. She offers sample letters to send to lawmakers and publishes the only national directory of charter schools. Such schools, now numbering 3,000 nationwide, are publicly financed but largely independent.

Her opponents don鈥檛 buy her image as spokeswoman for the average Joe. They point out that the center isn鈥檛 a membership organization, and that Ms. Allen gets much of her funding from right-leaning foundations.

鈥淪he鈥檚 taken all her words and ideology from the Heritage Foundation and put a smiley face on it, and pitched it as what parents want,鈥� said Kathleen Lyons, a spokeswoman for the National Education Association.

But her devotees, who aren鈥檛 all conservatives, say Ms. Allen does tap real people. While other Washington groups pitch papers for policy journals, she sets her sights on Good Housekeeping and Parent. When she strikes a chord, and people write to her, they go straight into her database, which she says now holds some 37,000 names, only about 4,000 of whom are 鈥減olicy people and pundits.鈥�

鈥淛eanne is one the best grassroots organizers I鈥檝e seen,鈥� said Gary Larson, the director of media relations for the California Charter 69传媒 Association. 鈥淚鈥檝e seen it in action.鈥�

Mr. Larson cites this instance: In 2001, when he was just getting active in the charter movement and before his association existed, he got in touch with the CER for advice in opposing plans by the San Francisco school board to pull the plug on a charter school there.

From the opposite coast, Ms. Allen produced a list of people, many from the Bay Area, who she knew would sympathize with the cause.

Other examples of her matchmaking skills abound. When Tennessee mulled its first charter law last year, she brought a group of Volunteer State lawmakers to Delaware to show them that state鈥檚 charter schools in action.

It was at a meeting convened by the CER in 1995 that the idea was hatched for the Education Leaders Council, which initially shared offices with Ms. Allen鈥檚 shop.

Doing It Her Way

And yet, even some in the pro-school- choice camp find her divisive.

Over the summer, she pulled the CER out of the Charter School Leadership Council, a group of charter-supporting organizations that included the Black Alliance for Educational Options, the Thomas B. Fordham Foundation, and the National Council of La Raza.

The council, which is now defunct and trying to regroup, was an attempt to present a single voice on charter school issues at the national level. Ms. Allen鈥檚 main problem dealt with its governance. Other members wanted to do away with a rule that required unanimous consent of all the groups before the council could take action. Ms. Allen objected to using majority rule instead.

In a recent interview, she further questioned the premise of the council.

鈥淲e don鈥檛 need to become like the establishment,鈥� she said. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 have to have formal organizations that are democratically composed at the national level, and speak on behalf of everyone. There are enough people at the local and state levels.鈥�

On occasion, she鈥檚 raised the ire of those people, too, including charter backers in Illinois. Local charter leaders in that state brokered a deal in the legislature last year to raise the cap on the number of charter schools that could be opened in Chicago. Ms. Allen vocally objected to provisions in it that called for educators in charter schools to hold state teaching licenses.

John Ayers, the executive director of Leadership for Quality Education, a Chicago-based group that supports charters, said the teacher-licensure language was needed to get the bill through a Democratic- controlled legislature.

Although the measure passed, Mr. Ayers maintains that his group lost favor with a potential donor because of the CER鈥檚 opposition, but won鈥檛 say which one.

鈥淚t鈥檚 quite simply a matter of, we live here, and we have to cultivate coalitions,鈥� he said. "[CER] publicly insinuated that we sold out.鈥�

Ms. Allen sees it differently. She worries that some charter leaders have become too complacent, too willing to compromise. 鈥淚n our education reform movement,鈥� she said, 鈥渨e lack for a certain amount of optimism or foresight as to what could be bigger and better.鈥�

But she, on the other hand, has very big ideas for the charter movement. Last year, she won a $3 million grant from the Bentonville, Ark.- based Walton Family Foundation for a three-year effort to jump-start charter advocacy at the state level. The gift is the biggest in the Center for Education Reform鈥檚 history.

Through training and organization, Ms. Allen aims to teach state groups how to be more strategic and aggressive. She may ruffle feathers along the way, but some allies insist she鈥檚 right for the job.

Said John Walton: 鈥淪he鈥檚 controversial, but some of the most effective people are controversial.鈥�

Coverage of leadership issues in education鈥� including governance, management, and labor relations鈥攊s supported by the Broad Foundation.