Where NAY is rarely heard

On a sleepy summer evening, Superintendent Thomas W. Payzant asked the School Committee to approve a change in the way the district's lottery system assigns children to schools.

The board had been briefed on the plan before. Payzant spoke for 12 minutes, interrupted only when Committeewoman Marchelle Raynor raised a question.

''Other questions?" asked chairwoman Elizabeth Reilinger.

There were none.

The committee approved the change, 5 to 0.

It was the third unanimous vote that evening. And, according to records, it was the 96th straight unanimous vote the School Committee had taken since March 2004, when one member voted ''nay" on the school budget.

Boston replaced its elected School Committee in 1992 with a board appointed by the mayor, saying it would end the tumult and fractiousness that had characterized the school board. But if the old committee was almost a comic sideshow, the appointed one appears to operate at times with the singlemindedness of the old Soviet Politburo.

''It's all a rubber stamp. They're just rubber stamps," said Peggy Wiesenberg, a Boston Latin School parent and member of the Citywide Parents Council, after a July meeting.

And while the appointed board has certainly brought about efficiency, it has also created one of the least visible parts of city government, critics contend. Many parents do not know the members on the committee. Only two parents regularly attend the board meetings, and one is the mother of a student representative to the board.

Of seven board members, two have listed home phone numbers. Members did not have public e-mail addresses until June.

''I don't know that anybody knows who they are," said Tess Pope, head of the parent council at the James W. Hennigan Elementary School. ''You know what it's like to me? It's like the Wizard of Oz behind the curtain."

For years, the school board has also resisted televising its meetings on local cable.

Councilor John Tobin, chairman of the council's education committee, has tried to persuade the School Committee to allow the broadcast, which is done in about 60 percent of the state's school systems, according to the Massachusetts Association of School Committees.

''I don't understand what the reluctance is. It's customer service," Tobin said. ''Clearly people are looking for more transparency and more accessibility in their public officials, whether they're elected or appointed."

Tobin said jokingly that the meetings are so predictable, down to who attends and where they sit, he could ''walk in with a blindfold and tap people in their chairs."

In an interview with the Globe, Reilinger defended how the appointed board operates, and said there is no attempt to shut out the public.

She said she is considering televising the meetings, which she describes as a little cut and dried sometimes.

Votes are often unanimous, she said, because the committee sometimes takes three to six weeks to consider Payzant's recommendations and listen to community input.

''The School Committee is not a rubber stamp, but we're also not there to entertain people," Reilinger said.

Mayor Thomas M. Menino also defended the board's performance, saying the panel sets broad education policy for students systemwide, rather than catering to special interests or the wishes of individual constituents, as the elected board did. He and others say the smoothness of the board's working relationship with Payzant has created unusual stability for the system, and will help attract top talent when the committee hires a new superintendent next year.

Board members, who are appointed for four-year terms and receive $7,500 stipends, also set curriculum requirements, and oversee programs such as special education, technical-vocational education, and bilingual education.

Before 1992, the elected board micromanaged the day-to-day operations of schools, frequently ran the school system into debt, and drove superintendents out of the system, observers say. Members engaged in petty arguments, hurling insults at one another. The members also arrived late and left early, getting up from their chairs mid-meeting to chat with other members, according to minutes from the 1980s. And in at least one case, a committee member threatened to punch the superintendent.

''When you're talking about public education, it can't be 'The Gong Show,' " Menino said.

There is little nostalgia for those days. Councilor at Large Maura Hennigan, who is also running for mayor, has suggested a return to an elected school board, but so far the issue has not caught fire.

Still, there is some frustration with the way the appointed board does its work.

During the two-hour meetings, Payzant dominates, sometimes talking for 30 minutes at a time. Two committee members -- Angel Amy Moreno, a university professor, and Alfreda J. Harris, the longest-serving on the board -- rarely speak. Sometimes it is Jewel Cash Jr., the student representative and a junior at Boston Latin Academy, who asks the toughest questions.

Other members politely ask questions but rarely disagree. They may delay a vote and request the school system staff provide more information on a topic, but almost always follow Payzant's recommendations, whether it's breaking up high schools into smaller schools, adding more kindergarten classes or closing down schools.

In 2004, there was one ''nay" vote out of 70 ''action" votes. (That excludes procedural votes, such as voting to adjourn a meeting.) All 51 action votes so far in 2005 have been unanimous.

''Too often they just get reports from staff, which, not surprisingly, can be self-serving," said John Mudd, senior project director at Massachusetts Advocates for Children, who attends each meeting. ''There needs to be opportunities for more openness for the public to express their opinion and for the School Committee members to ask questions and debate among themselves. Things often feel as though either decisions have already been made before they come to the meeting or an extraordinary deference to the proposals of the superintendent."

Members of the public are given three minutes to speak on topics during designated periods at each meeting. That limit is a sore point for Wiesenberg, the Boston Latin parent, who is often shut down for exceeding her time.

''You get three minutes and then you're gaveled down," Wiesenberg said. ''So where are people going? To their city councilors. Because the School Committee has not asked hard questions, you have the education committee of the City Council as the bulwark of democracy. That's ironic."

Helen Dajer, who was appointed this year, said she would support more open debate on the board.

''When things get presented at the meeting it's almost as though it's 'Here it is for your information,' " Dajer said. ''It doesn't seem to be the right forum for a real active discussion. . . .The good thing is people don't talk to each other behind anybody's back. But the bad thing is no one talks to each other about anything."

Tracy Jan can be reached at tjan@globe.com.