Why would you write such a book?

My tale starts with cold, greasy pizza.

In 1974, I was the chairman of the Education Committee of the Florida state Senate. In preparation for the upcoming spring legislative session, the committee held a series of hearings in public schools through out the state to hear suggestions for bills that we might consider. One hearing was at Wolfson High School, a secondary school in a middle-class suburb of Jacksonville.

It was our practice to reserve a section of each hearing for student comments. In education, as in most other activities, the users or consumers of the services have an important perspective on the functioning of the institution - and students are the primary customers of public education.

On this morning, a group of students came to the microphone to tell the committee of a serious problem in their school and ask for our help. The problem? Bad food in their cafeteria.

Their complaint didn't surprise me. The food at Miami Senior High School, from which I had graduated almost 20 years earlier, wasn't very appetizing, as I recalled. What surprised me was that these students, close to receiving their high school diplomas, thought that the state Legislature was the place to seek redress.

So I asked if we were the first authority to whom they had taken their concerns. I was relieved to hear that, in fact, we were the third. But I was distressed when I heard the answer to my next question - who were the first and second?

The students reported that they had gone to the Mayor of Jacksonville, who agreed with the students as to the quality of the food but told them it was out of his jurisdiction. The second was the Sheriff of Duval County, who also sympathized but said while the food was bad, it wasn't criminal. I had to inform the students that the state Senate didn't control cafeteria menus either.

Less than a month later, I was invited to speak to a group of civics teachers in Miami. I related that story and expressed my dismay with the students' lack of knowledge about the roles and responsibilities of government. In other words, I thought it was a strong indictment of civics education in our state.

Their reaction was one of controlled outraged. A teacher in the audience captured the spirit: "I am sick to death of you politicians telling us how to do our job better! You don't know what you're talking about. You need to get in the classroom and see what it's really like - prepare the lesson plans that are intended to stimulate disinterested students, make outdated textbooks interesting, deal with all the hassle of paperwork and school bureaucracy - and the nutty ideas of politicians!"

And she was a friend! To applause, she challenged me to come into the classroom and experience public education firsthand.

Figuring that I could afford to give up an afternoon - and reluctant to appear like a chicken in front of this important constituency -1 accepted her challenge. In three days she was on the phone: "I have worked it out. You are to come to my school, Miami Carol City Senior High, on the day after Labor Day and report to room 207. I have arranged for you to teach a semester - 18 weeks - of 12th grade civics."

Well, 18 weeks was more than I had bargained for. But I felt that I had made a commitment, and I would keep it.

Looking back, I can say in all honesty that the late summer and fall of 1974 transformed my life. I was assigned to work with a young, talented and enthusiastic civics teacher, Donnel Morris. Together we developed a curriculum aimed at a typical student of Carol City High who might face a challenge in getting a problem in their neighborhood solved: How does a citizen bend democracy to their will? Is it really possible to fight City Hall, the school board or the ladies who run the school cafeteria? How does one organize an effective grassroots campaign for change?

In addition to a structured curriculum of required skills, we taught through hands-on activities, exposing our 25 students to political practitioners - candidates, officeholders, journalists, campaign professionals, pollsters - essentially exposing our students to the keys to making government work for them.

To set the theme for the semester, Mr. Morris and I on the first day of class asked the students to organize themselves into groups of three. Each group was to select as a semester work project an issue about which they were dissatisfied - and which government at some level could play a role in reversing. Any topic could be selected. But we added this caveat: At the end of the semester, one-third of the student's final grade would be based on their effectiveness in changing the situation on the ground.

The results in some cases were startling. For example, one team tackled the long¬standing suspicion that Miami Carol City High School was not receiving the same allocation of school district funds per student as other public high schools in higher-income neighborhoods. After receiving an introduction to understanding budgets from the high school's business department, these students pored over financial spreadsheets at the district headquarters. And do you know what? They were able to prove the disparity was more than a myth. Thanks to their work, the district superintendent recognized the inequity and vowed to correct it in the next budget cycle. Needless to say, that team of students received a very high grade!

During the course of the semester, I learned about the teaching of civics; the complex relationship between students, faculty, and parents; and the workings of a large urban high school. However, the most important thing I took away from the experience was the awareness that learning by actually doing is far different thing than learning by lecture. It demonstrates the relevance of the subject to daily life - a deep immersion into reality, not a theoretical laboratory. And it contributes to a sense of self-confidence that can last a lifetime: "I can do this for myself and my family because I already have done it in the classroom."