You know how it is when someone does something nice for your children.

He could be the biggest jerk -- a nebby loudmouth, a slick hustler -- but if you witness him acting with genuine thoughtfulness and concern for your child, your heart softens toward him.

You just can't help it, even when you know better -- like during an election year.

That's how the people of Upper St. Clair may be feeling these days about Gov. Ed Rendell -- at least he hopes so. I don't know if they've ever called him names in the privacy of their homes, but their public repudiation of him in the 2002 election was decisive.

And for that -- follow me on this one -- the residents of Duquesne City must be very grateful.

The school districts of both municipalities have recently been in great distress -- Duquesne's because it didn't have enough money to keep its schools open or pay its teachers, and Upper St. Clair's because 1 percent of its students might have had to face Ivy League college application season with one less accolade on their resumes.

From such crises, good government policy is forged, to say nothing of political opportunity.

In the 2002 gubernatorial race, Republican Mike Fisher won 68 percent of the votes cast in Upper St. Clair. Mr. Rendell got only 30 percent, though he won 53 percent statewide.

Four years later, Mr. Rendell is facing Lynn Swann, a black Republican and legendary Steelers receiver who, despite dodging requests for position statements as if they were so many pesky linebackers, is doing quite well in the polls.

Into these state politics erupted the very parochial conflict over Upper St. Clair School District's International Baccalaureate program. The academically rigorous, Switzerland-based program offers students a global perspective on all subjects they study. You can see how a broad ethnic and racial perspective would be especially important in Upper St. Clair, since it's 95 percent white.

But scarcely1 percent of district students take any IB courses at all. Tax-weary township voters had elected a slate of school board members committed to trimming costs, and with so many of any district's costs immutable, the relatively small but optional IB program was a reasonable target for much-desired cuts.

The litigiously savvy parents of IB students, however, turned a fiscal decision into a rube-hunt by accusing school board members of pursuing a right-wing religious agenda in their anti-IB vote. Parents sued to have the program reinstated, draining the school of as much in legal fees as a year of IB costs before the board gave up.

Though IB's emphasis is global, its students have learned an important lesson in modern American democracy: how a loud, privileged minority can sabotage the voters' will.

Into this mess stepped Mr. Rendell, who miraculously came up with $85,000 needed for IB fees and -- entirely coincidentally, I'm sure -- a way to show Upper St. Clair's heavily Republican voters that, by golly, he really cares about their kids.

And the kids of Duquesne City -- where there's no budget left to trim?

Well, the statistics paint the political reality there: Of 1,403 votes that Duquesne residents cast in the 2002 governor's race, Mr. Rendell won 70 percent to Mr. Fisher's 29 percent.

This time, of course, the governor's not running against a white attorney general but an African-American football star. Last time around in Duquesne -- 50 percent white, 48 percent black, with an average household income of $31,000 in 1999 -- only 27 percent of voting-age residents cast ballots.

But in 2002 in Upper St. Clair -- 95 percent white, 0.7 percent black, with an average 1999 household income of $112,000 -- almost 57 percent of residents 18 and older voted. There are more votes to win in Upper St. Clair than in Duquesne.

If there hadn't been such an outcry after the governor pledged state money to rescue IB, Duquesne students may not have gotten their emergency bailout. That's why they should be grateful for Upper St. Clair's old anti-Rendell vote. Duquesne's fix was an embarrassed afterthought.

Of course, it may be that Ed Rendell simply has a heart for the disadvantaged, whether their parents are surgeons and lawyers, or unemployed.

Or it could be that he's doing for difficult school districts what he now says he was doing when he supported last summer's legislative pay grab: "Kissing butt."

One thing's certain: Fast Eddie's always playing the odds.