Prominently displayed is a copy of "Heather Has Two Mommies." A poster on one wall announces "Black power is everything." Even the student desks, each separate from the others and pointed in its own direction, seem a geographical celebration of individual creativity and difference.

The ideals of diversity and peaceful conflict resolution inspired the foundation of the New Village Community Public Charter School of the East Bay. The idea was thousands of hours in the making by parents who dreamed a better world, and who even worked to adapt an enlightened Italian early-childhood curriculum to the needs of an elementary school. In all, the planning took more than three years.

It took less time for the school to collapse. Its charter was revoked, and New Village will close at the end of this school year in June. In its short life, New Village demonstrated much of what is exciting about charter schools -- and most of what can go wrong.

Charter schools are independent public schools, cut loose from nearly all the regulations of a school district. But they are publicly funded, and hold to the basic definitions of a public school: They cannot exercise preference in admissions, cannot teach religion and cannot charge tuition. Rather than promising obedience to a voluminous education code, such schools promise results, in a document called a charter; if they fail to keep those promises, the school can be shut down.

The first charter school opened in 1992; nationally, the jury is still out on academic results at these little upstart schools, because they are so young -- most of the 1,700 operating opened in the past two years. But it's safe to say that the large majority are in far better shape than New Village, even in the inner city, where it's hardest to create an effective school.

An hour away from New Village, at the southern tip of San Francisco Bay, sits East Palo Alto Charter School, on the outskirts of Silicon Valley. Surrounded by the wealth of one of America's most economically vibrant areas, East Palo Alto, despite a recent renaissance, still presents a sharp contrast. A handful of years ago, it gained infamy as the most murderous city in the country per capita. A swarm of cops from all over the county brought the killing under control, but a police presence doesn't raise test scores. Last year, the typical East Palo Alto fourth-grader was 68 percentile points behind her counterpart in next-door Palo Alto in reading.

But in its first two years, the East Palo Alto Charter School moved from the bottom third of the district to the top third, and stands to make further gains on this spring's tests. (The scores are still a far cry, however, from Palo Alto's.) Despite the presumed benefits of self-selection the charter school enjoys, it is still working with much the same population that is struggling in other schools: Of its 312 students, 86 percent are poor enough to qualify for a free lunch. The student body is 72 percent Latino, 22 percent African-American and 6 percent "other," mostly Tongan and Samoan. One white child attends the school.

On the wings of success stories like East Palo Alto -- which owes its achievement to visionary leadership, energetic teachers and support from both parents and the school district -- expanding the number of charter schools has become a key plank for politicians of both parties. It may have seemed ambitious enough for President Clinton to call for a near-doubling of the 1,700 charter schools, to 3,000 by next year. But the candidates to replace him want to do even more. George W. Bush is calling for bringing the total to 4,000 charters in just two years, while Al Gore wants 5,000 in 10 years. Clinton wants to ante up $175 million in federal funds next year on charter schools, while Bush wants to offer $3 billion in loan guarantees.

It's not hard to understand the excitement over charter schools. Not only are they built on ideas nearly everyone loves -- freedom, escape from bureaucracy, competition and accountability -- but their early record is strong. Most parents who have children in a charter believe they are getting a better education than they used to; most charter schools have a waiting list to enroll. Charter schools, contrary to early fears, are serving a higher proportion of poor and ethnic minority children than regular public schools (though fewer special education students).

In perhaps the most important statistic, the average charter school is one-third the size of regular public schools. There's evidence that size matters; it's hardly surprising that at schools where every teacher knows every kid, students tend to be safer and to do better academically. And while it's not hard to find struggling charter schools in inner-city communities, it's also not hard to find parents in district schools who believe absolutely anything would be better than what they're getting now.

From Indian reservations to tough urban neighborhoods come inspiring reports of charter schools that have taken advantage of their freedom to make real advances -- in teaching, in bringing parents into the educational lives of their children and in making schools a base for strengthening entire communities through adult education, healthcare and social services. But as the New Village experience proves, freedom, even when coupled with dedication and good intentions, isn't always enough to make a good school.

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