THE motto of Grace Christian School—"Fight the good fight of faith"—could be that of many an English private school. The difference is that Grace means it. It is one of thousands of recently established fundamentalist Christian schools across America, with a mission to major in Jesus Christ and minor in everything else.

Grace is housed in a small white clapboard schoolhouse beside a dried-up creek in Mason, a pretty ranching town of 2,100 people. Step inside, and it is immediately clear that this is a different kind of school, with humble resources. Desks line the main room. Teenagers sit next to small children. The atmosphere is attentive. There are no classrooms as such, just a single teacher and two teaching assistants walking up and down. Grace has 35 children, aged 6 to 18. Its largest-ever graduating class was three; but in recent years its graduates have gone on to West Point and Texas A&M University, among others.

Fundamentalist schools are growing fast. In Fort Worth, enrolment in them has grown by 30% since 1995. Because most of these schools do not report to the local educational authorities, exact numbers are difficult to come by; but Christian Schools International, one of several umbrella organisations, claims about 3,200 member schools in the United States, with 600,000 pupils. The chief reason for their growth is frustration at the removal of God from the public schools. But some parents have in general lost confidence in the state’s ability to educate their children, and others question the government’s right to dictate educational standards.

When is a Christian school a fundamentalist school? There are no hard-and-fast rules; but an unequivocal belief in creationism is probably the most reliable indicator. So is a sense of ministering to the whole child. "We believe that every human has three parts: spirit, body and soul, and that we should minister to all three parts," says John Burges, the principal and only full-time teacher at Grace. Parents often quote Deuteronomy chapter six, verse seven—"And thou shalt teach diligently unto thy children"—as the source of their preference for such schooling. How, they ask, can one diligently teach scripture in a secular school system?

The curriculum itself is overtly Christian. Almost every subject on the Accelerated Christian Curriculum, which Grace uses, has a Christian slant. Parents pay around $125 per child each year for books and course materials. Some of these courses, such as grammar, are laudable for their basic approach. Others are more worrying. The history curriculum carries the notion of America’s "manifest destiny" far beyond Monroe’s dreams. Spain was defeated in North America because it was Catholic. George Washington was preserved by a miracle during the French-Indian war. All Muslims are "descendants of Isaac’s half-brother Ishmael". Above all, "Americanism" is the divine template for the world.

Larger fundamentalist schools charge fees and grant scholarships, but smaller ones have a different approach. Grace is typical. Its shoestring budget allows it to educate each child for roughly $1,000 a year. Every summer, parents sit down with the school to discuss how much they can afford to pay, ranging from $50 to $200 a month for each child. Teachers’ pay is paltry. Mr Burges draws a salary only when all the bills have been paid; in a good year he takes home $12,000. Unable to afford a laboratory, Grace uses the great outdoors as its classroom. In deer season the whole school goes hunting (PE), butchers a deer (Biology), then cooks it (Home Economics) into venison burgers for school lunch. And everyone says grace first.

More about...

Schools

Religion

United StatesCanada

OPINION | WORLD | BUSINESS | FINANCE & ECONOMICS | SCIENCE & TECHNOLOGY

PEOPLE | BOOKS & ARTS | MARKETS & DATA | DIVERSIONS | PRINT EDITION

Copyright © The Economist Newspaper Limited 2003. All rights reserved.

Legal disclaimer | Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions | Help