Vocational education's occupational hazard.

Everybody in North Carolina's educational establishment is screaming bloody murder about state budget cuts, but the cries from those in vocational education might be the shrillest around. After all, they've had plenty of practice complaining about doing a lot with a little.

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The vocational-education folks in public schools contend that they made do with a pittance long before the budget-cutting machine went to work. Why, they ask, did vocational education get only about 5% of the $3.9 billion the state spent on public education during the 1989-90 school year, when 66% of students in grades 7 through 12 took at least one vocational course?

Meanwhile, the community-college system, the state's other bastion of vocational education, is also wailing about how cheap the General Assembly is. North Carolina once led the nation with its innovative community colleges. Now, the state spends a measly $3,300 per student, a third less than the national average, according to a 1989 study.

Community colleges need $135 million over a six-year period, they cry. The General Assembly, which has heard the howls from all quarters, essentially agrees that community colleges need more than they're getting. But in May, the colleges were still waiting for a check.

Can we really afford to write off half of our citizens?" asks Commissioner of Labor john C. Brooks. "Every year that goes by, we do less, not more, in vocational education."

So why does vocational education get short shrift? It has no united voice. With responsibility split among junior highs, high schools, community colleges and the Department of Labor, which oversees an apprenticeship program, it's not surprising that these groups have trouble focusing on common goals.

But Brooks says the state can't keep pretending there's not a problem. The proof is all around, he says. Recently, Brooks climbed aboard an elevator in High Point. During the slow trip to the next floor, he glanced at the steel-framed inspection certificate bearing his own signature. Although elevators are required by law to be inspected every six months, the certificate was dated 1987.

Blame the legislature, Brooks says. The state hasn't had a formal training program for elevator inspectors for the past 20 years, he says, "and we let the legislature know that, and the legislature essentially says, Well, they aren't falling yet, are they? So if or until people are killed, why worry about it?' We think that's a totally irresponsible position.

-Many of the elevators in this state today are unsafe to ride on, and we can't help it. We do not have the staff to make the inspections in accordance with the law." Because of the shortage, new state buildings get elevators that locally trained workers can fix - older, slower models.

But given the state's limited funds, isn't it unreasonable for vocational education to be asking for more? Where is the money to come from?

Simple, say some education officials. Use part of the vast sums aimed at students on the college-prep track, few of whom end up with a college degree anyway.

Here's the argument: Figure that a fourth of the state's ninth-graders drop out, leaving 75% to complete high school. Roughly half - or 37% of those who started out - continue their education. Of those who do, fewer than half - or about 18% -graduate from college. That means that only about two of every 10 ninth-graders in school today will earn a four-year college degree.

Yet it's to that 18% that most of the money spent on education is geared, says Donald R. Brannon, chief consultant for special programs and services of the Department of Public Instruction.

What's more, statistics show the unemployment rate for those who completed vocational education in 1989 was 4%, compared with 11% for all youths aged 16 to 19 statewide. And nearly half of the students who took vocational classes went on to community colleges, universities or other institutions.

All this matters because there's a shortage of such skilled workers as plumbers, electricians and boilermakers.

Thomas C. King, chief financial officer for the N.C. Department of Community Colleges, believes the answer is more money for community colleges and programs such as Tech Prep, which provides a special curriculum for vocationally oriented students, starting at the eighth grade. What employers want, he says, are workers with basic knowledge and thinking skills who can complete their training on the job.

But the skilled-labor shortage isn't going to be fixed by spending more money, says state Sen. J. Richard Conder, D-Richmond, chairman of the Senate Education Committee.

For the 1989-90 school year, the state spent about $175 million on vocational education in junior-high and high schools. Federal money amounted to $17 million, and local governments kicked in $2 minion. For next year, the Department of Public Instruction is seeking $200 million from the state. Meanwhile, the state this year is providing about $142 million to community colleges for vocational and technical programs.

Like many others, Conder wonders whether the money is being spent wisely. 'I have questions in my mind whether vocational-education [courses] are being updated to keep up with technology."

The answer is an unequivocal no. About six years ago, when times weren't nearly as tough, a state study indicated $100 million was needed to update vocational-education equipment in high schools. A trade group of vocational instructors sought $50 million over two years but came away empty-handed.

One result is that many high-school students taking auto-mechanics courses don't get training to repair cars' computer controls. (Try buying a car without them.) Officials in other fields tell similar stories.

But Conder says paring down budgets, not adding to them, is the order of the day. So maybe it's up to business people such as James E. Beasley - executive vice president of Bryant-Durham Electric Co. Inc., a Durham electrical contractor - to take more responsibility for training workers. For the past five years, Beasley has been working closely with vocational educators in 10 counties for help in recruiting workers. "For 25 years, we didn't bother to do that,' he says. We just accepted what came in the door."

If business people were louder advocates- in the halls of the General Assembly, says Loretta Martin, vocational education might gain the stature needed to help ease the skined-worker shortage. Conder says if he were a member of industry, "I would be hollering a lot louder than they are."