Samples
A Better Place to Grow Up (Chapter 5-6)
Chapter 5
Does anyone care?
School principal Ann Meese awakens at 2 a.m. on Oct. 14 hearing a doorbell. Who could be at the door at this hour? she wonders. She goes downstairs, opens the door to her town house in Murphy Park just northwest of downtown and finds no one. She notices, too, that she doesn't have a doorbell. Must have been dreaming.
Meese can't get back to sleep. Her head is spinning with all the problems she will have to sort out this day at Jefferson Elementary School -- the usual ones like getting her paperwork done, bucking up the staff, which is having so much trouble with the "Success for All" reading program.
And then the big one. Six weeks into the school year, just when the students have settled in with their teachers, Meese will have to reassign dozens of students to new teachers and classrooms. Meese knows how disruptive this will be to the students, how damaging it will be to the morale of her teachers.
The problem is that enrollment figures have not matched projections. This is common throughout the city. City residents move far more often than people in the county, and it's difficult for the district to know how to assign its teaching staff. Moreover, the district has been unable to fill numerous teaching vacancies. So every October, hundreds of students are pulled from teachers with whom they've bonded and placed somewhere else.
At a meeting a couple of days earlier, several teachers were outraged by the unfairness of it all. Why couldn't the board just give Jefferson an additional teacher for the second grade? Couldn't Meese go to bat for them? Doesn't anyone care?
"The district keeps saying 'We're for kids. We're for kids,' " said Karen Jones, a fifth-grade teacher. "No, they're NOT. Who actually gives a care?"
Sue Turner, a fourth-grade teacher, chimed in: "The city would have more money if they would tax some of these corporations."
Meese was grateful when curriculum coordinator Darlynn Bosley spoke up that day. Bosley, wife of the former mayor, is cool and direct and has a nice way of getting people focused on what needs to get done.
"We can all be politicians," Bosley said, her voice rising. "We can send a letter to the board and the superintendent. Do you think that's going to change anything? We have children here and we have to meet their needs now."
That helped shift the focus to trying to solve the problem. Lots of ideas surfaced, none particularly attractive.
That's what is keeping Meese from getting back to sleep on this raw October morning. Had she had the time to read the newspaper, she would be met with more bad news. State officials are saying Missouri education commissioner Robert Bartman plans to recommend that the city school district lose its accreditation. Only eight city schools meet student performance standards on state tests and Jefferson isn't among them. Not even close.
Now Meese has to make a decision that probably will make catching up to those standards even harder.
At 5 a.m., she walks over to school from her apartment and works at her desk until 8:30. Then, with her jaw set, she heads up the steps -- not stopping as she usually does to greet a student or accept a hug. She has to tell Karen Jones, Sue Turner and Mary Spencer that they will have to bear the brunt of the enrollment mess.
She will shift Dan Monnig, a fourth-grade teacher, to the second grade. Jones, Turner and Spencer will preside over larger classes.
The three have been expecting the news. And they make Meese proud by the way they divide responsibilities with so little fuss: Spencer will teach social studies to all the classes, Turner will handle math and Jones science. Looking on the bright side, it will give the children some variety and a taste of what it's like in middle school, where switching from room to room is part of the routine.
But Meese operates under no illusions. The teachers are right. This wouldn't have happened in a suburban district. The upheaval and the mixed classes will retard the progress of at least some fifth-graders.
Meese has made a calculated decision. The younger the child, the better chance Jefferson has of getting that pupil up to grade level. Not that she considers any child a lost cause, but these fifth-graders will be moving on to new schools next year. Jefferson's reputation will rise or fall with the gains it makes with the little ones.
Later that afternoon, Meese strides wearily into Monnig's room and delivers the news to the children. "I have an announcement to make," she says over a din. "On Monday, I'm going to have you start in a combined classroom with Ms. Jones or Ms. Spencer."
Some children cheer; others look perplexed; one girl cries.
Meese asks the students to go to their assigned rooms to meet their new teachers. As the fourth-graders enter her room, Spencer adds a teaspoon of sugar to her voice.
"Life in these United States is something, isn't it Patrick?
"Things don't always work out fairly do they, Miss Greer?"
Then her eyes land on a smirking fourth-grader. "Son, get your act together immediately -- if not sooner."
The children have only a vague notion of who Richard Baron is. When asked, one child responds, "He's rich and owns everything."
Chapter 6
Their quest
"Don't look like you're sad about it," Sue Turner is telling the 18 fourth- and fifth-graders gathered before her. "Look like you're serious about it."
Turner teaches the fourth grade and is spending 15 minutes at the noon hour taking the children through a last rehearsal of "My Quest."
The children will recite the verse this afternoon in honor of Richard Baron, the developer who will receive the St. Louis Award in the school gym. It will be a surprise and a nice capper on the day Baron is honored for his redevelopment efforts.
The children already have demonstrated that they know their lines. Now Turner wants to make sure they look disciplined and dignified in front of Baron and 300 of St. Louis' most distinguished citizens. She and fifth-grade teacher Karen Jones are taking them through their paces.
"If you forget your lines, don't stop," Turner says. "Don't stop. Let it flow . . . ."
Jones says: "There's going to be a big crowd. Don't get distracted. Pick up something in the back of the room and focus on it."
And don't fool around, Turner says. "Pretend you don't know one another . . ."
Turner wrote "My Quest" several years ago, and she's tweaked it especially for this occasion. She's proud of her phrasemaking, and would like to write children's books someday.
My Quest, the children recite.
I will let nothing hinder me in my quest to travel to the end of the road of success . . . .
The children have only a vague notion of who Richard Baron is. When they're asked, one child responds, "He's rich and owns everything."
"He's a millionaire," says another.
"He's the guy who gets awards," says still another.
Jones decides to put things in perspective: "He does happen to be wealthy. Because he owns this property around the school, he reasoned that people will come into the neighborhood and stay if there are good schools there. So he called his good friends -- and when you're wealthy you have good friends who have money -- and they put some of that money into the school. So Mr. Baron is a millionaire private citizen who has bought into this school."
I have taken belief in my left hand and faith in my right. I've put on the shoes of endurance and I've started my flight . . . .
Jones is among just a few teachers who will attend the award ceremony. Turner says she has an after-school science program that will keep her away. But word among the teachers is that they don't feel part of the event.
None received invitations in his or her name, like the others who are attending. They feel like they are being showcased. And for what purpose? Turner wonders.
Standing on the playground after the rehearsal, she shares her misgivings.
"The idea of a businessman coming in and dropping lots of money on your school . . . . I know human nature," Turner says. "You just don't do things for the heck of it."
"Is it sincerity?" Turner wonders. "Are you doing it because you want to do it? Or are you trying to make sure the status quo continues?"
Baron and his "friends" surely did put a lot of money into the building. But, she adds, "I'm more important than the building. Pay me what I'm worth."
Sue Turner has been teaching in the St. Louis school district for 12 years and is one of Jefferson's best. She makes $28,600 a year. With her experience and savvy, Turner knows she could find a job that pays much more in St. Louis County. But she says, "This is where God has told me to be to help my people succeed."
She and a lot of other teachers feel like they get blamed for their students' poor test scores. But look at it another way. Turner and her colleagues are being asked to teach the hardest to reach.
Where's the compensation for all that heavy lifting?
Watch out for hills of doubt and mountains that say uh, uh, it can't be done. Continue steadfast because my quest will soon be won.
I won't give up!
