School Choice Ohio recently gathered with 700 parents, students, school leaders, supporters, and special guests in Cleveland to celebrate the anniversary of the U.S. Supreme Court decision that affirmed the constitutionality of school vouchers. Speaker Batchelder joined us for the celebration and shared his memories of the Cleveland Scholarship and Tutoring Program and the Zelman case. Watch his speech from the program below. 

When the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the Cleveland Scholarship and Tutoring Program in the landmark Zelman v. Simmons-Harris case ten years ago, it opened the door for thousands of children to attend the school of their choice. The impact of the decision extends beyond the boundaries of the Cleveland Metropolitan School District and even beyond the state of Ohio. It set the precedent for school vouchers cases across the nation.

In the 10 years since the Zelman v. Simmons-Harris decision, Ohio has created three new school voucher programs – the EdChoice Scholarship Program, the Autism Scholarship Program, and the Jon Peterson Special Needs Scholarship Program. At the time of the decision, approximately 4,500 students in the state were using a school voucher. Now, more than 22,000 Ohio students are attending the school of their choice with the help of one of the state’s four school voucher programs, and that number continues to grow each year. Across the nation, more 80,000 students are using state-funded scholarships to attend the private school of their choice.

We recently joined with nearly 700 parents, students, school leaders, supporters and special guests in Cleveland to celebrate the anniversary and the promise of the Cleveland Scholarship & Tutoring Program, a promise that was affirmed by the Supreme Court decision.

During the celebration we shared the video below that shares the stories of students and parents all across the state whose lives are being changed by Ohio’s scholarship programs. Take a look.

Today is the 10-year anniversary of the Zelman v Simmons-Harris landmark case. On June 27, 2002, Judge Judi French argued the Zelman case before the US Supreme Court. Here she shares her memories from the case and the meaning the case still holds for her today.

I don’t think I could adequately convey how much it meant to me (still means to me) to be involved in the Zelman case.  When I first learned that I would be the lead attorney for the State of Ohio, I approached it as a case, that is, an important legal question that needed answering. At that point, the legal challenges had resulted in mixed rulings with no clear winner.  We needed the Supreme Court to step in and clarify the issues, and the Ohio case cued up as the one the court would hear.   But as the case progressed, I began to realize that I was part of much more than just a case.  I was part of a movement that mattered to many, many people, and that could impact many more.

I was surrounded by a terrific team, thanks to the commitment of Attorney General Betty Montgomery.  She made sure we had the resources we needed to be successful, including Ken Starr and Rob Gasaway of Kirkland & Ellis in Washington to act as our co-counsel.  The lawyers who preceded us had made sure that the record was stuffed with evidence about the value of the voucher program and its purposes.  We inherited a great case from them.

I loved the legal question at the core of the case — whether Ohio’s voucher program violated constitutional provisions that prohibit a state from making a law “respecting an establishment of religion.”  Admittedly, I often felt like the eyes of the world (the education world, at least) were on me and the rest of the team, but it was that great legal question that kept us focused. Also important was the ability of Betty, and others, to deflect the pressure the State was under to handle the case just right and win the appeal.  Despite this pressure, Betty gave me nothing but encouragement and confidence.

Here is something that might surprise you…in preparing for the oral argument, I relied on music and visualization to keep centered.  I listened repeatedly to the soundtrack of “Gladiator,” with its Hans Zimmer score, and visualized each step of that important day–getting to the court, going through security, riding the elevator upstairs, waiting for the arguments to begin, beginning my argument, and so on.  The powerful music calmed me and even slowed my heart rate.  I wanted to feel that I had been through each step before, and I even asked my 11-year-old daughter, Julia, to play the part of Chief Justice Rehnquist to call me to the podium and begin my argument.  (She would look serious and say in a deep voice, “Miss French, we’ll hear from you now.”)  It worked.  In those moments (really, just a few seconds) when I stood at the podium waiting for the nod from Chief Justice Rehnquist before I could begin–that moment I knew could cause so much anxiety–I felt that I had been there a thousand times before, at least in my mind.

It was several years before I listened to a recording of the oral argument, and when I did, I cried.  Not because I had performed brilliantly (I thought I spoke too fast and used the word “absolutely” way too much), but because I had been part of something so meaningful and fulfilling.

On June 27, 2012, I will remember what it was like on June 27, 2002, to learn that we had won the case — we had lawyers stationed at the court to receive the opinion, who then relayed the information by phone.   I received so many congratulatory calls that day, but none was more satisfying than the phone call from voucher parents and kids.  Yes, I was proud of what I had done and thrilled with the outcome, but I was even happier for them and what the decision meant for their future.

This week marks the 10-year anniversary of the U.S. Supreme Court decision that affirmed the constitutionality of school vouchers. The landmark ruling upheld the Cleveland Scholarship and Tutoring Program on June 27, 2002. Below is a first-hand account of the court case from Patrick Wolf. He is a professor and 21st Century Endowed Chair in School Choice for the Department of Education Reform at the University of Arkansas. He had tickets to the Zelman v. Simmons-Harris oral arguments. Read his memories below.

By: Patrick J. Wolf, Ph.D.
University of Arkansas

The Zelman court case provided several indelible memories for me.  At the time I was a public policy professor at Georgetown University who recently had completed a collaborative study of privately-funded K-12 scholarship programs in New York City, Dayton, Ohio, and Washington, DC.  Would the modestly positive test score results we uncovered in our study lead to more experiments with publicly-funded school voucher programs?  Not if the Supreme Court ruled such programs unconstitutional.

I was fortunate to land tickets to attend the oral arguments along with two of my research colleagues, Paul Peterson of Harvard and William Howell then of the University of Wisconsin and now of the University of Chicago.  We sat in the center, about five rows from the back.

Although the seating area filled up quickly, two prime seats about six rows ahead of us, on the cross-aisle, remained unclaimed until the last minute.  As the doors were being closed, former Wisconsin Governor Tommy Thompson, then Secretary of Health and Human Services, raced down the aisle, followed (not quite as quickly) by Senator Ted Kennedy.  That set of strange bedfellows claimed those last two seats.  Throughout the proceedings, whenever a Justice made a comment apparently favorable to the Cleveland voucher program, Tommy Thompson perked up in his chair while Ted Kennedy sort of slouched.  Whenever a Justice spoke critically of the program, it was Kennedy who took notice and Thompson who turned away.  Thus, these two political giants served as a rough barometer of how the arguments were going.

Three specific points in the oral arguments left me with vivid memories.  I haven’t verified the quotes below with the actual transcript of the oral arguments, so please consider them to be rough paraphrases of what was actually said.  Robert Chanin, general counsel for the National Education Association, was one of the respondent lawyers on the case.  Chanin got into a heated exchange with Chief Justice Rehnquist, at one point rudely interrupting him.  Rehnquist bellowed, “Are you talking over me, Mr. Chanin?!”  Chanin replied, “No, of course not Mr. Chief Justice.”  I leaned over to William and whispered, “This guy is helping us.”

Towards the end of Chanin’s 30 minutes before the court, we researchers briefly felt a part of the discussion.  Justice Scalia asked Chanin, “Isn’t it relevant that researchers have determined that students learn more when they use school vouchers?”  Chanin replied, “Who claims that?”  Scalia responded, “Oh I know of some social scientists who do.”

Finally, the most amazing point in the arguments was an exchange between Justice Breyer and Ohio Assistant Attorney General Judith French.  Breyer asked, “Isn’t it necessary, under our Constitution, that parents be free from compulsion to send their students to religious schools?”  French responded, “Yes, they cannot be compelled to enroll their students in religious schools.  That must be their choice.”  Breyer then exclaimed, “Well the Catholic schools in Cleveland are undoubtedly much more effective than the public schools there, so any reasonable parent would feel compelled to send their child to a Catholic school.”  I turned to William and whispered, “What the hell?  School vouchers are unconstitutional because the private schools in the program are so much better than the public schools?  That’s his argument?”

Traces of Justice Breyer’s bizarre locution remain in his hysterical dissent in the Zelman case.  Somehow if a specific choice of action is likely to produce a better outcome for the chooser, the choice is thereby coerced and not truly free.  I guess my marriage was coerced, since entering into it clearly made my life better.  According to Justice Breyer, the only free choices we exercise as human beings are the bad ones!  Ah, the brilliant arguments of our great legal minds.