The Lost Boys: Education Edition

“Went to the mayor’s S.O.S (Save Our Sons) event today & still haven’t been able to shake how many names I knew on the list of murdered men in NOLA. Not only did I know them, but I taught them. The latest one was buried today. You may ask why I came back to the city, but THEY are the reason why…enough is enough & I’m giving my ALL to put an end to it.”

This has been my Facebook status every since I attend the City of New Orleans’ S.O.S (Save Our Sons) Campaign. My days and my nights have been filled with anger, slight depression, extreme hurt, and any other emotion that a woman in despair typically feels. I’m not sure how the summit impacted the hundreds of New Orleanians in attendance, but as for me it was a stark reminder of days as a High School Math teacher in the city’s public school system.

You see…there was a small tribute in the summit to the 140+ men and boys that have lost their lives in the city since January 2011. From that list alone, I personally knew 6 victims—with the latest murder occurring just days before the summit. My hurt did not begin nor end at the summit…you see I’ve been hurting for these young men since I started teaching in 2006. I’ve lost so many students to violence, it’s hard for me to even keep count.

It’s hard…it’s hard…it’s hard

It’s hard for not just me, but for every single teacher, staff member, and student in that building. It’s hard to know that when you say “Be safe. Take care. I love you.” to each of your students at the end of the day, you’re doing it not just because it sounds good but it’s your hidden praryer that whatever transcendent power they believe in may protect them, and have mercy on them so you can spend just one more day trying to expose them to a better life—one without senseless violence, one without jail bars and orange suits, one that only a solid education can help them attain.

I did not always think or feel like this as teacher, but I vividly remember the day that these feeling started.  I was working with the students with some test-prep materials—because that’s all we do in low-performing schools, right? Prep, prep, prep…and continue the cycle of low expectations and prep work..I’ll save that for another post—that focused on making logical predictions, reading graphs, etc. The specific question and graph was centered on “Life Expectancy in the United States.” The graph started in 1910 and increased in 20 year increments. The graph showed an increase in life expectancy from 14 years old all the way to 80+ years old. As a young, novice teacher I followed the teaching-concepts very closely, and I knew this problem was screaming “relate to the life of the learner.” And so I did. We discussed why life expectancy was 14 in the 1920’s, and what variables and factors might contribute to the increase throughout the years. The students were engaged, they’re answers were quite thoughtful……and then it happened.  I called on one my male students. He was a relatively well-liked child. He was an over-age, under-credited student, who had numerous run-ins with the city’s criminal justice system; nonetheless he was in my class everyday because he said he was ready to do better.  So I scanned the room, looked him straight in the eyes and said “_____, what do you think the life expectancy will be in 2015?” He laughed, smiled, and said, “You want me to give you the right answer or my answer?” Confused and a tad bit naïve I said, “both.” He proceeded to answer the question correctly and explained his rationale and the steps he took to find the textbook answer, BUT THEN….with a stern face he made a statement that has haunted me ever since. He said….”Shit, if I make it to see 19 I’m doing good.”

It hit me. My approach was all wrong. I preached college to each and every one of my students, talked about what life would probably be like once they hit 30…and never once realized that my vision of them in the future was only MY vision. It was hard for them to see the same picture, because they couldn’t see tomorrow.

How do you change that? I wish I had the answer.

From that day forward, I worked hard to help move my students from the “right now” mindset to the “what could be” mindset. It worked for a handful, and I wished I could’ve done more for the ones who I couldn’t reach.

Mayor Landrieu quoted a statistic from a  report that stated a student at the High School I taught at was more likely to be killed in the streets of New Orleans than a soldier in Iraq.  If for no other reason than that…..I AM COMMITTED TO SAVING OUR SONS.

When you save our sons, you save our daughters, our families, our city! I will not forget. I will not give up!


-Troave' Profice

Memphis moms' perspectives on bettering education

I spent this past weekend in Memphis gathering baseline data for my Greenfield project*. I had the opportunity to speak with many residents about their thoughts on how education affects them, their children, and their neighborhoods, and it helped me to realize just how complex the situation is.

I am particularly interested in the opinions of parents in impoverished neighborhoods, as I don’t think their voice is heard very often. The parents I spoke with are anxious to see the city schools improve and spent a lot of time talking about how this could happen. They all agree that communication and a joint effort that goes both ways between teachers and parents is needed.

Below are excerpts from mothers in South Memphis, home of the Stax museum, and in Binghampton.

Michelle finds it very useful when the school sends information about her child’s performance (academically and behaviorally) home on a daily basis:

Charlene thinks her son should have more homework so that he can refine his knowledge at home, but as of now he is rarely assigned homework. She also speaks the importance of parents and teachers working together:

Kristie talks about how caring parents can act as a catalyst for change in impoverished neighborhoods:

"I'm not a fan of charters"

This evening in my neighborhood of West Riverside in Uptown New Orleans, I met Anastasia.

When I asked Anastasia her opinion of public schools in New Orleans, she got a solemn look on her face and slowly shook her head no, saying, "I'm not a fan of charters, that's for sure. I tell everyone I can that charters are not the way to go."

I inquired further. Anastasia just graduated from Sci High, a charter high school in uptown. She was proud of her high school accomplishments, and was told throughout her high school career that she was on track to college and doing well. What's more, in addition to attending Sci High, Anastasia was also a student at NOCCA, the New Orleans Center for the Creative Arts, which has offered supplemental enrichment classes for exceptionally talented secondary aged students since 1973 (Harry Connick Jr, Wendell Pierce and the Marsalis brothers are among the alumni). It was clear that Anastasia was on the road to success.

Anastasia had scholarships from various performing arts schools across the country, but turned them down because she was told that she would qualify for a TOPS scholarship in Louisiana, which means that she will be able to attend one of the public colleges or universities in the state for free.

She later learned that she would not qualify for TOPS because her HS curriculum did not include a requisite class in Biology. She blames the Sci High staff for not providing her with the necessary classes to quality for TOPS, and leading her to the decision to turn down the partial scholarships from a school in Baltimore. She is now soured on charter schools entirely, and mentioned that some of her friends had similar experiences.

Anastasia said that "she's learned the hard way" and now has to figure out how to move forward with her education. From her perspective, Sci High let her down, and it, and other charters along with it, are to blame.

The Art of Listening Well

This past weekend my family celebrated the life of my grandmother Elaine Mishler.  In our conversations and reflections I began to realize that schools and education reformers alike could learn a lot from listening to people like my grandmother.  Seemingly, that was her gift she was a phenomenal listener.  She always wanted to know how you were doing and what she could do to help.  It was never, you should do this or you should do that rather it was a “ I am proud of you.” 

I think this level of humility is rarely seen in our communities today and I think it is noteworthy.  My grandmother was a genuinely curious person who sincerely wanted to know how people were and instead of trying to multi-task or listen second hand or send an email, she stopped and she listened.  She made people feel like they were known.  Needless to say though, this is not the first time I have stumbled upon this same message the last couple of weeks.

In my journeys to Texas we asked several school leaders why some kids who were on the border of making it why they thought they stuck it in and it always came back to the student feeling known.  Whether it was a relationship with a teacher, a coach or administrator - the student preserved because they felt like they were known.  This simple fact should not be overlooked.

Relationships are essential to effective schools and even though we may respond in text, tweet or email, I don’t think you can overstate the importance of real communication.  There is something that is incredibly powerful about putting everything down (cell phones, laptops, tvs, etc.) and just listening because you genuinely care about the other person.  Often times I feel like we make this act seem like a hassle.  It requires a great effort to put away our other daily distractions and genuinely listen.  It is this attitude that gets in the way of effective communication and making someone feel like they are known. 

Put down the remote, turn off the cell phone, hibernate the laptop and just listen.  It is not a chore; it is an opportunity to show someone you genuinely care.  This is the gift my grandmother had and something I will never forget.

 From: Chris in Michigan

Chattanooga Girls Leadership Academy

Go: Last Friday I went to the Chattanooga Girls Leadership Academy. CGLA is an all-girls charter school in Chattanooga, Tennessee. It is currently in it's 3rd year of operation. I met with the principal, LaMar Wilson and the director, Carolyn Towns. I had a great morning talking to them about the successes and struggles of CGLA.

Learn: I learned how important it is, when planning a school, to have lofty but attainable goals. Both Carolyn and LaMar are new to CGLA this school year. They both commented on their struggle to live up to a "champagne charter on a beer budget." Neither one of the current leaders had participated in the writing of the charter so they were doing their best to interpret what they had inherited.

At 4.0 Schools we often talk about the concept of a beginner's mindset and the idea that leadership is problem solving. I saw both of these approaches in full force at CGLA. Carolyn and LaMar's beginner mindsets were a huge asset to the school. They brought a fresh perspective and were able to ask great questions so that the could solve some of the recurring problems the school had been facing for the past 2 years. This was the first time I had seen the beginner's mindset and leadership as problem solving used in tandem so effectively.

Share: from Joy in New Orleans, LA