CONGRESS GETS MESSAGE FROM EXPRESSIVE PUBLIC

Here are some short editorial takes on recent items in the news.

Few elections are without redemptive aspects, and the 1992 campaign, maddening as it seemed at times, was no exception. Perhaps it was the tenor of the times, or maybe a nod must go to Ross Perot's feisty candidacy, but Americans learned again the art (and occasional necessity) of weighing into the people they elect to high office.

In recent weeks, Americans showed a robust spirit in making their opinions known to Congress on a couple of national issues, including the nomination of Zoe Baird to become attorney general and a presidential directive lifting a ban of homosexuals in the military. Across America, people were put off by Baird's casual approach to immigration laws, just as they were highly vocal about President Clinton's decision about armed forces' policies. Telephones on Capitol Hill and in lawmakers' home state offices rang with the spirit of a discontented nation ... and the voices were heard. Baird's nomination did not stand and lawmakers have forced a period for hearings on the matter of homosexuals in the military.

Washington the president, the Congress, the bureaucrats makes a multitude of decisions daily that affect the lives of all Americans; in these two instances, Americans spoke back to Washington. So say this for the recent backlash: It's a start. If nothing else, this puts elected officials on notice that their constituents are watching.

(As an aside to this, the White House has installed a comments line: the telephone number is 202/456-1111. Callers are asked to leave a message, then White House staffers tabulate the opinions and record the comments.)

The old joke is told about the University of Nevada-Las Vegas (substitute here any of a number of institutions where athletic accomplishments overshadow academic success): When a person inquired about a particular aspect of UNLV's curriculum, a surprised bystander asked, "Oh, is there a school associated with that team?" In fact, this sets up a false impression, since most student-athletes and most universities hold a common goal: it is called education. We like the way Southeast Missouri State University looks at this.

Last week, the university held a luncheon to honor 63 of its student-athletes for their work not on the court, but in the classroom. All of those honored at this luncheon hold at least a 3.0 or higher grade point average (on a 4.0 scale). Among Ohio Valley Conference schools, a league which Southeast joined in 1991, this showing ranked second.

While national scandals crop up about student-athletes from time to time, it is refreshing to note that this university takes an active interest in its athletes' academic progress, and that success in the classroom is fostered and encouraged. Fans who show up in the stands for Indian and Otahkian games and matches place a premium on winning, but we should also applaud those coaches who see to it their players get an education and diploma.

Education bureaucrats could take a few lessons from those teachers who insist on precision in the language. The state board of education in Alaska is insisting on it. At some point in the past, the Juneau-based board abandoned the term "dropout," which had been used (and is universally understood) to describe a student who quits school before graduating. Instead, the board adopted the term "early leaver" to describe the same thing. Apparently, this was done to conform with the term being used by other states and the federal government. We would suspect education administrators have bigger issues to deal with.

Last week, the Alaskans struck a blow for tradition and clarity, proclaiming "early leaver" a ridiculous piece of jargon and restoring "dropout" to its rightful place in educational vocabulary. The gesture should be appreciated by all who want language to serve its fundamental purpose, which is to convey information from one point to another; we are hard-pressed to know the confusion "dropout" caused.

As might be suspected, bureaucracy does not yield gladly: the Alaskan board can't abandon the term "early leaver" for 30 days, until a public comment period has concluded.