It's time again for the Illinois General Assembly to cram a session's worth of business into one rude and rowdy month.

Thankfully, most citizens don't pay much attention to what goes on in Springfield in May. Otherwise they might start demanding that their elected officials do something useful.

Take education, one of many issues crying out for decisive action. Both parties have proposed similar plans to increase the state's share of education spending. The sticking point is that they've offered them at different times. To most people, that might signal a compromise in the making. After the usual acrimony, party leaders would come together to hammer out a bipartisan plan, and all could claim credit. Instead, finding new money for education is about as likely as Dennis Rodman choosing his natural hair color for the NBA playoffs.

We can blame Dawn Clark Netsch for this. Two years ago, she staked her gubernatorial campaign on a pledge to boost Illinois' school spending by raising the state income tax and providing property tax relief.

Some people thought Netsch was bold, and many gave her credit for saying what everyone seemed to know but no one would say: Illinois isn't coming anywhere near to meeting its constitutional obligation to fund education.

And let's not forget Gov. Jim Edgar's contribution to that stirring debate. In 1994, he ran around saying Netsch was raising everyone's taxes by 42 percent. The strategy worked, and Netsch's long and dignified career ended with a historical footnote — as the candidate on the short end of the worst shellacking in Illinois electoral history.

Shortly after Edgar's landslide, Senate President James "Pate" Philip announced he had given the education problem some thought. How about raising the state income tax and giving people property tax relief? Democrats scratched their heads and wondered why they hadn't thought of that.

And then earlier this year, Edgar's latest task force on education told the boss Illinois needed to come up with more bucks for schools. Edgar's solution was eerily familiar, something about raising the income tax while lowering property taxes.

The governor's plan was immediately shot down by his own party, especially by House Speaker Lee Daniels, who offered that oldie but goodie alternative: finding an extra $500 million for education by trimming fat and cutting the state budget. Score another one for innovative public policy.

The Democrats, meanwhile, sit on their thumbs, even though Edgar's plan once was their own. Instead of demonstrating bold bipartisanship, they're going to be boldly partisan. After all, who's going to tell these lawmakers to act like statesmen?

Last year, Republicans enjoyed their long-awaited return to power. And the Democrats, still feeling awkward as the minority party, did everything they could to slow the GOP juggernaut. In one memorable week last May, Democrats raised the spectre of "phony fiscal notes," a silly ploy to stall Republican legislation by claiming that lawmakers had screwed up the paperwork on newly passed bills. This year promises more of the same shenanigans. With the governor and his leaders quarreling over their education plans, Democrats aren't about to help the Republicans pass anything.

Here are the respective agendas for the four legislative leaders:

• House Speaker Lee Daniels: Make sure everyone notices I'm the speaker.

• House Minority Leader Michael J. Madigan: Keep acting like I'm still the speaker.

• Senate President James "Pate" Philip: Be Pate Philip to the fullest extent of the law.

• Senate Minority Leader Emil Jones Jr.: How did I lose that congressional race?

Don't these people get it? Being a rabidly partisan Republican or a die-hard Democrat means absolutely zip to most of us. Most people don't care about the political parties. This May, I'll bring another handful of graduate journalism students to Springfield. They are smart, highly motivated people. Last year, after a day watching the General Assembly fight over phony fiscal notes, I asked them what they thought of Illinois politics. They looked at me and just laughed.

James Ylisela Jr. teaches urban reporting at Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism. He's the consulting editor of The Chicago Reporter.

Illinois Issues May 1996 ¦ 41