America likes things big. Our malls are huge, our movie theaters mammoth, and our corporations colossal. A few weeks ago my neighborhood got its first two-story super market (as if they weren't already super enough). In the home of the mega-mart and the super-bowl, bigger often means better. Sometimes, though, big is not such a great idea.

Many of this country's students attend "super-schools" with over a thousand kids in each grade. The largest high schools have populations approaching 5,000. I know most of us are immune to numbers and statistics but let's be clear: for a high school, five thousand is a lot of people. My Grandma's hometown has fewer people than that, and they have a McDonald's AND a Pizza Hut. I hate to think what it's like for a kid to walk into one of those education monoliths for the first time.

Fortunately for me, I never made that walk. My high school class had 36 graduates and in my education experience, that number was par for the course. People react to that information in one of two ways. Some marvel at how weird that must have been for me. Others smile and tell me they went to a small school, too.

Being noticed
Small school grads usually feel that they were a part of something special. I think the main reason we feel that way is simply because we got noticed. Never a naturally outgoing person, I was often slow to find a social groove during my school years. My family's frequent moves did not help my cause. My initially shy demeanor wouldn't have caused so much as a ripple in the pool of a large school, but attending smaller schools allowed me to have a bigger impact on my surroundings.

It makes a difference when everyone knows your name even before you know anyone else's—you aren't given a chance to fade into the background. Small-school teachers get to know you quickly, and are able to relate your performance in their particular class to a larger picture of your abilities. Small-school kids learn to see each person as unique and recognize that everyone is important to the school as a whole.

Of course, going to a small school is not always easy. Let's face it, kids are often cruel, and the school years are tough no matter where you spend them. But if you are casually dismissive or cruel to people in a small school, it comes back to haunt you—and you start to expect consequences for your actions. Going to a small school can be like being aboard a ship for a long time—you must get along with everyone. The upside is you learn to do just that.

Joining In
Not surprisingly, I've found that friends of mine who had the best experiences in big schools were often the ones who succeeded in shrinking them— their worlds became drama or football, band or debate, cheerleading or student government. This transformation is often necessary in order to make close friends and find a comfort zone, but it's a shame that cliques become almost inevitable as students cut their super-school populations down to a size they can relate to.

Big school graduates often say that higher enrollment means availability of more of these extracurricular activities, and this is often true. However, consider two average high schools, one with 5,000 kids and one with 500. Both would have the standard activities, but a greater proportion of students at the smaller school would actually get to participate in them. During my senior year I got to play on the basketball team, write for the school newspaper, sing in the music department's small ensemble, and act in the school play. My situation was typical of my classmates'. Could a super-school ever give a kid that kind of opportunity? Were super-schools created just so a few lucky students could perform in front of larger crowds?

Economies of Scale
At some point, someone decided that economies of scale could be achieved with economies in schools, figuring that more students could get the same utility out of the same resources. To a point this can be true. But as 2,000 students become 3,000, and 3,000 become 4,000, do the resources continue to serve the students well? Is one building still sufficient? One principal?

On the whole, I believe that school-age misery would be greatly reduced if we were to rid the nation of the super-school. There is obviously no way to see that every kid attends schools the size that mine were. The very smallest schools are probably not particularly cost effective. However, we should realize that super-schools may not be particularly student effective and that failing our students carries a higher cost. If America could strike a happy medium on school size, we might end up with a lot more:

• a) happy kids.
• b) super kids.
• c) super, happy kids.

I think it's all of the above.

• Students and Teachers Benefit From Smaller Classes [1], A report from the U.S. Dept. of Education.