6 posts tagged “public education”

Next school year (2009-2010) I'll be teaching at the KIPP Delta College Preparatory School based in Helena, Arkansas. After two years of teaching at Humphreys County High School I decided that I needed a change. I fully think that KIPP will be a good fit for me since in Humphreys County I often felt like like the outcast OCD teacher working 12-hour days, actually analyzing test data (or even grading tests...I've been laughed at by colleagues for even grading tests or classwork on a number of occassions) and targeting special skills for improvement, and trying unconvential things in the classroom beyond the standard worksheet/comprehension questions classwork and homework model. At KIPP Delta, everybody's like that. At least seemingly.

I'll be teaching two sections of 7th grade social studies in addition to one section of high school journalism. I'll be based at KIPP's middle school under a school director (principal, essentially) who definitely seems like someone who has a potent mixture respect and reverence amongst teachers, staff, and students alike as well as a heartfelt connection to his job coupled with know-how of what everyone under his leadership should be doing to give students the best education posssible. I'll be sending off my signed offer letter today or tomorrow and one part of it that made me a little nervous reads:

                                     "...KIPP Delta may terminate your employment at any time, without
                                      notice, and...you may similarly terminate your employment with KIPP
                                      Delta at any time."

Not that I plan on getting fired from KIPP or that I plan to quit mid-year but since all KIPP schools operate as charter schools seeing the often talked about flexibility that charter school leaders enjoy in black-and-white on something I'm signing is a little scary. When I visited KIPP Delta last Thursday all of the teachers seemed to be enjoying their job, all of the students seemed to want to be there, and academic activities were going on in every classroom I entered. Mind you, it was the LAST DAY. I thought about the differences between the last day there and the last days of school at my alma mater, Trenton High, and how essentially the last three weeks of school attendance would drop below 25% and the last few days of school easily less than 100 students (out of nearly 3,000) would be in attendance. Even at Humphreys County High most students essentially had a free day the last day as most teachers shunned the school's exam schedule and had already given their exams earlier in the week or prior as oppose to on the last two days of school as directed. These were only a few of the differences I noticed.

Another differences I noticed on my visit included how respectful students seemed towards adults and each other. The KIPP motto of "work hard, be nice" seemed in effect all around. Additionally, every student was in uniform (including shirts tucked in and nothing on their body or head that shouldn't be). I can't tell you how much of a problems our uniform policy (more like "suggestions") are at Humphreys County High and how so many of our faculty meetings turn into griping sessions about something needing to be done about students coming to school out of uniform. It may seem minor but students coming to school out of uniform (very often purposely to dress similar to a friend, family member, or signficant other...or just to see what a teacher or administrator will do on THAT day) undermines the concept of having standards, whether behavioral or academic, at school. When this dies down we are on the road to destruction as students know what they can get away with an develop precedents to cite in the old "well, last week ____ didn't wear his or her uniform" that teachers and administrators rarely prevail against.

I'm sure that for now I'm in my honeymoon phase with KIPP and that in time I will develop a more holistic and, potentially (at least in part), critical perspective on the school but I'm happy where I'm at now. Further evidence that KIPP Delta is a real school was revealed when I called my school director yesterday to accept his offer of employment and he started listing things that I should do, documents that I should expect through postal mail, and other things that I should be mindful of immediately. He also told me that he'd need to have weekly, half-hour long phone meetings with me even though I was at home in New Jersey and the first one is today in about...nine minutes. Thus, I will have to cut this post off here and edit it/spice it up later. 'Til then, comrades!

One of my students just came by my house (around 6:30 pm...as I start typing this). Again, a bad thing about living where you teach--especially with some of your students literally close enough to steal their family's wireless Internet connection--is that they sometimes stop by at awkward or unwanted times. Nevertheless, it was a generally positive exchange.

The student is a genuinely interesting one. My understanding is that his parents are not from the U.S. (I believe they're Jamaican immigrants...first or second-generation). That makes him EXTREMELY rare in the school already as 99.9% of the kids there have been in the Delta, or at least Mississippi, for as far back as anyone in their family can remember. Nevertheless, like me without the Igbo accent of my parents, he has no semblance of a Jamaican accent. He speaks the same English in the same fashion of people who grew up around him in Belzoni, just as my accent is the same as people I grew up around in Trenton.

Last week I took three entire days out of my EACH of my classes just so my students could do make-up work in hopes of passing my class. I went in order from those who needed to pull their grades up the most to those who needed to do so the least and in my most troubling class--my seventh period Mississippi Studies class with 9th graders---he was second to be called up (the student before him has a zero average). This kid had an average of 4. His mouth dropped when he came up to my computer and looked at the screen where his missing assignments, behavior log, and average were shown. His (inappropriate) behavior log has several recent entries--probably more than any other student. Out of a five-day week, he'll be put out of class three days, won't come to school one day, and will manage to not do work the day he's not put out of class. After turning in about 40% of his make-up work I re-computed his grades and his average went up to...a 13. Great. Next year, same class.

Anyway, so THIS student lives around the corner from me and came by a moment ago. He seemed startled that I came to the door and didn't really know what to say besides, "Hey, Mr.Amutah!" I replied with a "hey" also and inquired as to how he's doing. He said he's been fine and talked about our Black History Month Program that was held today. He said that it went well. He also stated that yesterday he came by with Patrick (another student in my 7th period Mississippi Studies class) and that they were worried about me. I wanted to say, "Bullsh*t. You wanted to see if I was still alive or not so you could run and tell the other students that Mr.Amutah is on his sickbed/quitting/dead/going back to Africa (?) so you all can have a party and not repeat my course. Keep it real." But I didn't. I just let the positive exchange be a positive exchange. He asked if I'd be in school on Monday and I said yes. He kind of started walking away awkwardly (this kid is sooooo weird) and then I bid him a good weekend. He did the same to me.

After experiencing this and reading more of  for our EDSE 601 class with Dr.Mullins I feel like I've repaired some. Reading about students in East St.Louis or Washington, D.C. or even in Camden, NJ--45 minutes from where I grew up--is very sobering. The realities of what these children and teens deal with should not be dealt with by any and while I don't agree that the end, complete and all-encompassing problem is lack of government help, I definitely think that these people have been royally shafted by local, state, and federal governmental bodies and politicians and this has increased the difficulty of bettering their current situations. I have no idea what my students are dealing with at home, in their communities, with other students, with other teachers, or what have you. To expect them to perform at my standards immediately and consistently is not fair. I'm not saying that having a four in my class is at all excusable, but I am saying that context needs to be given to students' behaviors and formal assessments--whether made by myself or by the state's board of education--should not be the be-all-end-all measure of a student, let alone a human being.

Perhaps I'll take my mother's advice and go easier on them with the *difficulty* of the work (mind you, I'm adamant that my work is NOT hard! Overwhelmingly, the students just don't attempt to do it). Next week, I know that I will definitely give ALL of my students at least one graded assignment daily with an optional, extra credit homework assignment each night. With a 13 average and only one week left in this nine weeks, some students have to get on the grind FOR REAL. We shall see.

A while ago I think I said that what I think will end up pulling me through these two years is a love for my students. I really hope that this love can be sustained and that it's potent enough to do so because I can't have too many more weeks like this week. Too many other options....

State Superintendent of Education Hank Bounds is definitely ruffling some feathers (at least in Humphreys County) with his recent comments about Delta schools being in "crisis" and his off-tilt encouragement of Delta residents to look "beyond the next catfish pond." I agree with a good amount of what he's been saying. One thing he's been saying is that Delta parents need to be "demand" parents--parents that demand excellence from their childrens' school districts--rather than "supply" parents--parents that simply take what their children are given educationally. Still, he adds an honest caveat that many Delta parents don't know what a "good" or high standardized test-performing school looks like, let alone have the time, energy, and skills to organize to push for that idyllic school in their district. He also discussed very seemingly taboo topics among Delta residents (especially White ones) including generational poverty and the prevalence of private schools in the Delta. He may be stating the obvious but I guess, as a start, at least he's stating it.

Stories like this make me re-realize the national reality of a failing public school system. Some of it seems reminiscent of my school in the Delta as far as having state observers come in and evaluate classroom teachers, the widespread lack of basic skills among students, a slide show demonstrating the progress--or lack thereof--of the school, etc. A week from today, I actually plan to start off the second semester in each of my classes with some sort of visual representation of the final grades, semester exam grades, and nine weeks exam grades of that class. They need to know how many of them are doing well and on the road to passing and how many of them are not. The reality of it is, as long as I'm at HCHS and HCJH, the students will easier pass my class or dropout. Whether it takes one year, two years, or three years to do either, that's the choice they have to make. Point blank.

This story is also particularly pertinent, however, because my mentee that I worked with for three years in Boston is currently a sophomore at English High, the nation's oldest high school and the subject of the above-linked Boston Globe special report. In part through Harvard using Mission Hill (or, more specifically, Mission Main) as a pet community (Harvard's venerable medical school, school of public health, and school of dentistry along with a number of its top-tier hospitals are only one or two blocks away from the public housing developments that make of the Mission Hill section of Roxbury, Boston's historically Black neighborhood), Mission Hill is flooded with money and a variety of programming. Harvard students such as myself work in the neighborhood through summer, after school, and mentoring programs. The computer lab in the middle of Mission Main is better equipped than the computer lab at Harvard's science center, thanks to a huge HOPE VI grant.

As I continue to grade these nine weeks exams, semester exams, and random tardy assignments that students submitted in a last ditch effort to pass my class, it's simultaneously comforting and disheartening to know that others are going through the same thing in their schools throughout the nation. Even my local Mercer Arts Charter School here in Mercer County, New Jersey has had its charter revoked after being in operation for only four months. Still, some charter schools are succeeding beyond all expectations so all is definitely not lost. As one teacher at my high school has suggested, I think that we need to shadow teachers and administrators at better-performing public schools with similar demographics to ours and move on from there. How do you turn a school around if you've never been exposed to what "real schools," teachers, and administrators operate like?

In the spirit of Ms.Mayo's mid-9 weeks reflection, I think I'll just offer a fraction of her insight into my own first month and some change in one of the toughest professions known to humankind.

First, the good. I love my students. For real, for real. I do. Even the ones that threaten to "thump" me (meaning beat me up) and roll their eyes every time I open my mouth as if my class is akin to Middle Ages-era physical torture. I feel a personal identification with them that I can't begin to fully describe. It's based on more overt similarities between myself and my students along the lines of race, age, and geographic location though it's also based on less well-known attributes my students and I share(d) at one point or another along the lines of class, musical interests, and political leanings. Another good thing: I love the Delta. I love my small town that's less populous than my high school in Jersey.

I love the fact that I'm know by my first name or last name by people like the owner of my favorite clothing store in town, the superintendent of my district, the cab driver/tour guide in town, and others. I love the pace of things out here and the friendly folk I meet every day. I love the bountiful catfish that the Delta offers at myriad restaurants that dot highways and byways across this region. It's a beautiful thing. A final good thing: I'm getting better at what I do. I'm constantly getting papers back to students quicker. I'm constantly thinking up new ways to address what could have once been considered trite curriculum. I'm constantly working my students' IEPs into my lesson plans more and more and addressing the various intelligences of my students better and better. That's really wassup.

Secondly, the not so good. The feelings that I'm becoming more of an autocrat than I'd like to be. On some level, I definitely know that my students realize that Mr. Amutah's discipline policy is not nearly as strict as Ms.So-and-so or Mr.What's his name. I don't want to be a teacher that my students cower in fear from. Fear is stronger than love, or so it's been said, but I definitely find myself going for love despite my advice to others. I have to figure out how make the switch to no being so much of a pushover in certain situations but still maintaining the respect/cooperation of my students without constantly sending them out of my classroom or paddling them (I haven't done the latter...yet).

Also not so good: my ability to "leave school work at school." I don't. I work. A lot. I'm a first person in, last person out type of teacher right now. I usually get to my school around 7 a.m. and stay until 5:30/6 p.m. when our custodians are surprised to see me coming down the long, dark hallway from my class and say, "Oh, I didn't even know you were still here." After I get home I usually have an hour of downtime (meaning eat, change clothes, fix up my house or something) and then I work for numerous more hours at home lesson planning, grading papers, etc. On many nights I've done a little work after getting home then eaten a big dinner--usually my only real meal of the day--and go to bed around 8/9/10 p.m. after setting my alarm for 3/4/5 a.m. so I can get up and work some more. Not cool. My communication with loved ones back in the northeast from D.C. (big sis) to Philly (lil sis) to Jersey (mom, brothers) to Boston (wifey) has suffered in light of this grind.

Still, I'm here...

This was written journal style my first night in Oxford, this past Monday (June 4). Just wanted to offer some background into what's brought me here:

As I sit in my new apartment at the University of Mississippi, I find time to reflect on what has brought me to this remote locale in Oxford, Mississippi to begin what may be the most difficult experience of my life three days before my graduation from Harvard University.

At some point in my upbringing I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I think I was first bit by the teaching bug when I was nine or ten years-old and a student at Patton Joseph Hill Elementary School in Trenton, New Jersey locally known simply as “P.J. Hill.” It was here at a school where bullet holes pierced what should have been safe windows and pre-teen students fought administrators for the lucrative bounty of one dollar that I realized that I would prefer a career in teaching to any other. This was a fleeting thought, however, and between elementary school and college I went through a broad range of careers. Like many inner-city youth, I soon wanted to be a professional basketball player. From that I went on to focusing on becoming a rapper. Through my interest in rap and the music business I developed an interest in entertainment law, largely because around the age of 16 I learned that the top entertainment lawyers in the U.S. made $800 an hour—which would come out to $40,000 a week for a fifty-hour work week. My career was set. I went to Harvard with this career focus in mind.

While at Harvard, I took a few steps towards entering the music business after graduation from college. I went through the “comp”[1] for a spot on the staff of our campus radio station, WHRB, and by the second semester of my sophomore year I was a member of the radio station’s studio engineering department as well as its Black Urban Contemporary (BUC) department spinning rap, dancehall, and R&B from 3-5 a.m. Sunday mornings. I had established contacts in the rap publication industry through my girlfriend and hoped to work during the summer after freshman year for a record company or rap publication in New York City.[2] I also joined up with the nascent student-run record label at Harvard, Veritas Records, named after our Latin motto ve ri tas meaning "truth." I thought that I was firmly on my way to doing everything I needed to do to have a successful career in the music business and I was not altogether wrong.

Due to what was then a side interest in civil rights issues and Black history, I applied for a spot on an Alternative Spring Break (ASB) trip to when I was a freshman. I had never been to the “Deep South” and was excited when I was accepted as one of eight students to go. We had two great chaperones on the trip. One was Gene Corbin, the Executive Director of the Phillips Brooks House Association, a student-run social service and social action organization at Harvard with nearly 80 programs and thousands of student volunteers. Gene used to run a non-profit in Jackson, that we volunteered at while we were in Jackson that week. The other was Claudia Highbaugh, the Chaplain of the Harvard Divinity School who had family from Jackson and a sublime understanding of civil rights history and its relationship to churches; not to mention a much-needed maternal and supportive nature. While we were in Mississippi we did everything from meet Constance Slaughter-Harvey, the first Black woman admitted to the University of Mississippi’s Law School, to visit Philadelphia, Mississippi, site of the infamous 1964 kidnappings and murders of three civil rights workers historically referred to collectively by their last name--Cheney, Goodman, and Schwerner. Our conversations with various civil rights leaders and visits to various civil rights landmarks left an indelible mark on me.

On one such occasion and trip, we met with Hollis Watkins who was an organizer for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) in the 1960s. On the wall of Mr. Waktins’ office were two posters that showed a map of Mississippi by county. One poster showed each county in Mississippi’s racial makeup. The other poster showed how much funding for public education each county in received. The stark racial disparities were shocking. The counties that were more heavily Black invariably received less funding than the counties that were mostly White. It was not until then that I realized that public education and its problems were not only a New Jersey issue between Abbott Districts[3] and more affluent suburban ones—it was a national and even international issue that kept particular races and classes in subjugated states. This revelation’s impact on me cannot be overstated. The education bug once again sunk its teeth into me and this time it was there to stay. I came back to Harvard, changed my concentration (major) from English and American Literature and Languages to African and African American Studies and Government, changed my summer plans from gaining a job in the music industry to working with an educational and recreational PBHA summer program in inner-city Boston, and changed my career focus from entertainment law to urban public education.

Thus, this is an abbreviated breakdown of why I am here now. This is why I am avoiding the immense paychecks and signing bonuses of many of my peers and friends at Harvard. This is why I am missing the last three days of my college career including my class of 2007 photo, an award ceremony and banquet for my academic department, and a Class Day speech by former U.S. President Bill Clinton. This is why I got chills today when I walked into Holly Springs High School in Holly Springs, Mississippi—the site of the Mississippi Teacher Corps’ summer school where I will get my teaching practice before becoming a teacher in Jackson’s public school system in early August. I have come to Mississippi to address the intellectual, emotional, and—if necessary—material needs of people that I care about and love deeply though I have never met. Human beings that, due to their life’s circumstances, are growing up in social and economic situations I feel mirror my own. I am in Mississippi to bring positive and radical social change to the world. But first, I have to put up my shower curtains….