Brighton's Hope

We Cannot Be Silent About Things That Matter

During these last few weeks of the school year, I find myself frustrated. Four years ago, I came to Brighton with such high hopes. Being a glass-half-full personality, I saw no barriers to creating a great school. But as I have written in this blog, it did not take me long to realize what a challenge this would be.

Since then, there have been many celebrations of our success — most notably, making AYP after many years of being in School Improvement. Brighton no longer wears this shameful label, the ultimate symbol of school failure in our state. It’s an accomplishment many in Alabama thought was impossible.

As my fourth year draws to a close, however, I believe Brighton will not have the “happily ever after” fairy tale ending I and many others have hoped for. I say this even as I watch the new construction on our school campus. In anticipation of tearing down our old middle school building to make way for a new $10 million facility, contractors are building temporary portable classrooms outside my window. These trailers are necessary to house our special subject teachers next year. Grades grades K-5 will be in our current elementary building, which will also accommodate the core content area teachers from grades 6-8 during the construction.

You may wonder why I'm depressed about a construction project that we've longed for and begged for over many years. It's because these trailers represent the fact that we have failed in our efforts to convince our school system to convert Brighton into a K-5 school, and to send our rising sixth graders to one of two larger, more suitable middle schools nearby. It's not an issue of crowding -- the schools have room for them. And if the decision had been made to send them there, we could have built a brand-new K-5 school for $5 million, instead of the $10 million it will cost to meet standards for a building with middle grades. Our middle school population -- 111 students -- is so small that we can only offer one sport, boys' basketball. We did not even have enough girls sign up to have a team last year.

So in my mind, these trailers materializing outside my window represent the destiny of the 111 middle school students who will not have the same opportunities children in other neighboring middle schools in our system enjoy. These 111 children could be the "before" picture on a No Child Left Behind campaign poster.

Check-box indicators of adequacy

I have learned so much during the past four years about what it takes to have a highly functional school. Making AYP is merely the minimum of requirements. It has little or nothing to do with the quality of instruction. Just as a “Highly Qualified Teacher” has nothing to do with teacher effectiveness. Brighton (thanks to our performance in the elementary grades) has made AYP, and all but one teacher is highly qualified by the federal government’s definition. Yet the unvarnished facts about our middle grades reveal how unreliable these check-box indicators of adequacy are.

As they moved up through our elementary grades, our current seventh grade students proved to be the highest performing class in Brighton’s history. They are a smart group of students and most of them have attended Brighton since they were very young children. In fifth grade they scored 78% proficiency in Math on our state test. Two years ago they moved to the middle school building. Back then, I wrote about my fears for their future. Now, on our last two benchmark tests prior to this year’s state assessment, these same students scored at a 24% proficiency in Math.

I was stunned as I reviewed the test data. Some of our most promising students scored below 20%. Of course I am concerned about our school making AYP again. But more important, I am deeply depressed about the lost opportunities for these students to build on the content knowledge and skills they brought when they entered sixth grade. Will they ever be able to regain this ground? How many will graduate from high school?

The cold hard truth is that we are transforming our most promising students into dropouts. Making AYP or having so-called highly qualified teachers has not changed the future for these children of poverty.

Stories about hate and pain

Now, I look at today’s fifth grade students. These are the children who won my heart six years ago when they were in the “snake room.” I have written and spoken about this group often. They actually had the highest scores in our school on our final benchmark test last month. It took an extreme, long-term effort by our entire K-5 faculty to bring them to this point — a story that was documented in an issue of Scholastic Instructor magazine last year.

Now they have to move on, but not to a school that has many varied opportunities. They will be among the 111 middle schoolers whom the powers-that-be apparently believe will be best served by staying on this campus . Interestingly, Brighton will continue to be the exception (one of only two K-8 schools in this large school system). Horace Mann said that public education is the great equalizer. But there is nothing equal in this situation.

Recently, our current fifth graders were invited to attend a Young Author’s Conference at Samford University. I watched with great pride as the teachers and students worked on their stories, and we delighted in the wonderful book covers our art teacher worked diligently with the students to create. The trip was a huge success and our students receiving many compliments for their good behavior. They were wide-eyed as they took part in this college-campus experience.

When they returned to school, their books were displayed outside the classrooms. One morning, I stopped by to read several I had missed. These stories were autobiographical and did not have elaborate covers. I gasped as I read their words.

One 10-year old girl titled her story, I Hate the Life that I Had. Her story chronicled the night DHR took her from her mother. She told how her younger brother jumped out of the car because he had to leave his real dad. She went on to say this was her mother’s boyfriend and how she could not stand him because her mother could have gotten them back if he had left. She wrote, “One time I bit him because he slapped my mama.”

Another student entitled his story, Pain. His first paragraph describes his life view: “My generation has passed along death and mistakes. It starts from cancer or suicide or just getting shot. All of my life my family dies from these damn reasons.” He goes on to write about his grandfather’s death, which included a suicide attempt. He states, “The night my grandfather died, my dad tried to drink all the pain away but it didn’t work we will all be stuck with the pain until we die.”

The final story was entitled Life. This was a lengthy chapter book about a girl’s father in prison and growing up watching her mother try to support three children. She wrote, “In my world mothers have to be the man and the woman. Most men are in the streets or dead. All my life I have watched my mother run after my older sister’s dad and trying to get them to do their part. But after a while, you have to give up that dream and stop hoping these men will do the right thing by their kids.” 

The words of these 10- and 11-year-old students will haunt me forever. Life has robbed them of a carefree childhood.

We are failing these children

Many years ago, I realized as a teacher in a Title I school that as much as you have the desire to, you cannot change the world the students live in. What you can do is provide the best education for them in a haven of safety. I wish I could say our fifth graders will receive this type of education for the next three years, but our data does not insure or even suggest this will happen.

I wish I could guarantee they will have many opportunities to participate in athletics, band, choral groups, and clubs. This will not be possible with such a small middle school student population. I work in the second largest school system in our state, with about 38,000 students in our district. I realize that in the large scheme of things, these 111 students are not a critical issue. But how many other powerless children do they represent? How can we knowingly deny these students when our district motto proclaims to be, Committed to excellence in teaching and learning for all.

It is one thing to unintentionally to leave a child behind; it is another to knowingly allow a situation to exist that will leave a whole community of children behind. I thought I could change the destiny of these Brighton children. But I have failed them, as others have failed them. Even so, I cannot leave them. I plan on staying to see them enter the 8th grade.

This is what I can pledge to do next year. I will push and prod to try to improve classroom instruction, which will not make me popular with some of my colleagues. I am pleased, however, that all but three of our teachers have committed to attempt Take One!, a new program from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards that makes it possible for teachers not officially seeking NB Certification to complete one of the Board's assessment entries. The idea is to expose teachers to the standards and propositions that NBPTS believes define accomplished teaching. This will be our schoolwide professional learning for 2008-09, and this could be a critical turning point for improving instruction.

I will also seek special  opportunities for our students — opportunities that will not replace what they are missing, but hopefully will bring something fresh and inspiring into their lives. I am thrilled that our young music teacher, who is highly trained, will stay for another year (even though the band will have less than a dozen members). I will continue to work closely with our art teacher, who remains a bright spot for all the students. And I will call on Vulcan Materials, the company who adopted our school four years ago, to fund field trips.

I will also try my best to understand the decisions that have been made for Brighton’s children. This will be the hardest task. I have had faith in the decision makers in the past. I have long admired them, and I mean no disrespect as I tell this story. Nevertheless, I am committed to be a voice for the children of Brighton.

Dr. Martin Luther King spoke to this issue of conscience much better than I can. He said: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

Brighton children, like all children, matter.

Working Our Way to Higher Levels

This is my fourth New Year at Brighton and as I look back over the past three and a half years, I see we have come a long way. But I continue to be frustrated that best-teaching practices are not a way of life in all grades. I also have become frustrated with myself, as I seem to be holding some of these best practices back from the teachers.

After my first month at Brighton I wrote in my journal, “My frustration and sense of failure is killing me. I do no know how the teachers have survived in this climate. It is overpowering.” I still feel this way some days. I have to come to realize that part of the effect of being always immersed in a climate marked by struggle is that you begin to aim very low. Our elementary reading coach recently said it is like the character of Rémy in the movie Ratatouille who dreams of becoming a great chef -- not realizing the chef he so admires has a restaurant above his home in the sewers of Paris. She expressed that our expectations are bogged down by the fact that most of our teachers’ only teaching experiences have been at Brighton.

This recently came home to me as I found myself disagreeing in a conversation with someone I admire and respect about the importance of determining what is essential for students to learn to be successful in the 21st Century. I said I could not have this conversation at Brighton as it might get the teachers off-track from teaching the Alabama Course of Study standards. The mastery of these state standards is how our accountability is determined. I realized, upon reflection, that I was choosing to not expose our teachers to a best practice because I lacked confidence in their curriculum choices. As a result, I am limiting their own professional growth.

In grade level meetings, we often talk about how we limit our students with low expectations. In fact, in a recent state review of our school, it was stated that we teach more to the lower students with little emphasis on high expectations for all. I have to admit, this is how I have worked with our teachers in many instances. I wonder if this is the result of the fear I have of not making AYP.

I talk often about how our classes cannot be driven by fear, but need to find their energy in the motivation to do your best. Yet, this seems to be how we are controlling our school, and many of my actions are often right in line with this theme of fear and limitations. I know I have to make a conscious effort to be above this tactic. Even as I’m typing, my stomach is in knots as I wonder if it is even safe to be writing about this as I am so very driven by us making AYP.

This has weighed heavy on my heart for the last few months. I will have to say; Brighton is much better place for students than four years ago. The school is not a dysfunctional organization without procedures in place. There is a strong team of young teachers in grades K-2 that is very committed to their work, and their impact on student leaning is very positive. Brighton has a new National Board Certified Teacher and an advanced candidate. Other teachers are now looking at this process as a next step. When I walk through the school, I see good instruction taking place in most classrooms. This makes me smile.

Now my charge to myself is to take a lesson from Rémy and press on to higher levels. We must have important conversations with our teachers about their work while sending them out to see, first-hand, the best practices we can identify. We have to get out into the fresh air and see the world of teaching from new perspectives.

The Circus Is Still in Town

On August 6, our school district held our annual Institute Day at a local church with a nationally known speaker. The speaker was good, but what made the day was the announcement by our superintendent, Dr. Phil Hammonds, that Brighton School met its AYP goals again and now was officially out of Alabama's dread "School Improvement" classification after eight years.

The crowd immediately rose to their feet to give the Brighton teachers and administrators a standing ovation. Several local news stations had already been informed of the announcement and were standing by to capture on camera the tears and yells of the Brighton faculty. I can honestly say it was a moment I was not prepared for, as this seemed so far from our reach four years ago when my principal, Margie Curry, and I first came to Brighton.

In fact Ms. Curry and I had been agonizing over our scores for the past few weeks prior to this event as we tried to determine if we had made AYP by looking at our raw data. Our scores had slightly dropped for the Special Education subgroup, and we had not made the large gains overall we'd made the previous two years. I cannot tell you the relief and joy I felt that day as Brighton’s success was celebrated.

Our faculty went back to school for another celebration of cake and ice cream while the local daily newspaper and another news station came for interviews. It was quite a moment. However, it did not take long for me to begin to wonder whether we would be able to do this again next year and the year after that?

I guess this is the mindset I have developed as we have all experienced the relentless pace of requirements built into the No Child Left Behind law. Every year the Annual Measurable Objectives increase until we reach (theoretically) 100% competency in every measured area in the year 2014. My persistent question now is how do we sustain change and continue to improve? When you have lived in the world of NCLB sanctions (in our state, that's School Improvement status), you never want to go back. One our teachers coined the phrase for our school last year, “Onward ever, backward never.” Our assistant principal made buttons with this slogan for our teachers to wear on Institute Day.

So, how do we keep from going backward? My thoughts are that it is time for our teachers to take full responsibility for our outcomes. We started encouraging ownership last year as we began Professional Learning Teams, and our teachers began working together in earnest to improve our school. After being under the guidance of a Peer Assistant from the State Department of Education for three years, now we are on our own. I believe we have to take what we learned from our state peers on how to improve test scores and now dig deeper to improve learning as we strive to meet the needs of all of our students.

My job is to take the huge notebook left by the state peers, designed to help us continue these practices, and assist the teachers as they build the capacity needed to sustain our success.

My first effort was to conduct our schoolwide data meeting. In the mood of celebration, but also knowing the need to present our data in a very realistic manner, I chose a George Carlin quote as our theme: “Just because the monkey is off your back, does not mean the circus has left town.”

A friend blew this quote up for all to read as the teachers entered the door. I brought circus snacks and everything was printed on very bright paper. Teachers were asked to sit in specific groups as we looked at our grade level data and completed data analysis sheets. It turned into a very positive meeting where I observed teachers taking ownership of the discussion.

I concluded the meeting with the charge that it is time for us to take this challenge “own.” I purposely spelled the word o-w-n, to emphasize the need for us to take ownership of our school. For the past three years, everything has been very top down. When you have been labeled a failing school for a long time, you do not have the option to question those who come to help.

I do so appreciate the help we have had from the SDE and our district; we would have never made the improvement without their support. I have to commend the Brighton teachers, too. The majority of our faculty took what they were asked to do and did it with no questions asked. I have often wondered if I would have been so cooperative. Probably not.

During my time as national teacher of the year, I was quoted on a Starbucks paper cup as saying: “Our schools can be fixed!” This was my dream for Brighton and to be a part of this experience has been the most rewarding and challenging time in my career. However, the challenge is about more than just fixing schools — it is about creating schools where success can be sustained. This is quite a challenge and I wonder daily if I have the energy for this work.

There is a part of me that would like to retire and leave on a high note. But I can’t leave. The reason I cannot leave is because of the children. I have mentioned often the children who were in the Kindergarten class with the snakes. This group completely captured my heart during a visit to Brighton in 2003, as I observed the less than adequate education they were receiving. Last year, these very same students (who are Brighton’s most at-risk population) had the highest scores for a special education subgroup. I am determined to stay until they have successfully completed all grades at Brighton, and I now believe this can be a reality.

The circus has not left town, but we now have our chance to make this school, if not the "Greatest Show on Earth," a great and lasting educational experience for our children and the Brighton community.

On Being Brave and Bold

In a May 8 column in the Washington Post, Jay Mathews had this (and much more) to say about the Teacher Solutions report Performance–Pay for Teachers, which I helped write with 17 other teachers from across the U.S.

They lose me completely with point number nine, “Be brave, be bold.” I have seen versions of “be brave, be bold” in every high profile, blue ribbon, big expense-account master plan for saving our schools in the last 20 years.

Well, not from teachers, he hasn't. Because teachers haven't been writing high-profile blue ribbon reports for the last 20 years. The TeacherSolutions report is part of a very new wave of national position papers written in the voice of teacher leaders who believe it's time we had a place at the table. And those of us involved in the TeacherSolutions project definitely didn't have a big expense account. Teachers? Expense accounts? This may be the only instance I can think of where teachers were equated to "fat cats."

I have thought a lot about those two words brave and bold since reading his article. I just do not see how we can ever leave out brave and bold when thinking about education reform. To be very honest, I felt pretty bold just being a part of the Teacher Solutions group. It was a first for me—joining a policy discussion with teachers across the nation about a topic that is usually reserved for policy gurus who are far removed from the every-day realities of school. This was a new world for me and I liked being included.

I also think the words brave and bold are very fitting as I end my third year at Brighton. I often am introduced to people as the national Teacher of the Year who chose to go to one of Alabama’s lowest performing schools when I could have had a job anywhere. This makes me sound brave and bold. In reality, I do not think this was a brave or bold move. For me, it is an obvious choice for accomplished teachers to share their talents and knowledge in our most needy schools.

To be very honest again, I have been more apprehensive than brave the past three years. I have written often about my daily struggles to find my place at Brighton. I still constantly question whether I have what it takes to stay in a school like Brighton. But if I am not brave, I am determined. I won't give up.

I will tell you who the truly brave and bold folks are at Brighton. It's our students. Recently, our 41 eighth graders went to orientation at Hueytown High School, where most will enter in the fall. The other students at the event all came from Hueytown Middle School—the school that I strongly believe our students in grades 6-8 should also attend (and let Brighton become a true elementary school).

On this visitation day, our eighth grade girls decided to all wear red and black. When I saw them, I was perplexed at why would they want to stand out in this way. Many of us have campaigned for them to be accepted in this high school, bragging on their good behavior. But some of those present quickly assumed they were wearing gang colors. Later I found out they behaved beautifully and these colors represented a Brighton club.

So what were these girls trying to say? My guess is it was something like: "We are here. You have left us out until now, but we will make our way!” I love that these girls were brave and bold enough to do this. They will have to have this type of spunk to survive in this very large school where they are labeled “the Brighton kids.” I say, "You go girls, you can make it!"

If you have ever worked in a school of high poverty, you know that in order for the children to survive and prosper, they must have boldness and courage. I witness this daily in many of the Brighton children who are homeless, abused, and neglected. My frustration continues to be with the decision makers who want to keep our Middle School students in a school that next year will have around 38 students in each grade It makes no sense on educational or economic grounds.

How I wish someone would be brave and bold enough to restructure our school to a K-5 elementary and provide us with effective classroom teachers who have high expectations and a sense of professionalism. We do have a growing number of outstanding teachers, but we are still building our schedules around (and I do mean "around") the teachers who do harm, and whom those of us in the school have no power to remove.

So, I guess I would say to Jay Mathews that I never want the words brave and bold to be left out of the conversations about saving our schools. If we are not brave and bold, nothing will ever change for populations like Brighton. Change requires us to "shake up the schoolhouse," as Phil Shlechty has said. The incrementalism that Jay Mathews suggests in his column will not generate enough force to break the inertia of entrenched bureaucrats with a "hide the problem" mindset.

To be very honest a final time, I want to be known as a brave and bold educator who made a difference. As the late Robert Kennedy said:

The future does not belong to those who are content with today, apathetic toward common problems and their fellow man alike, timid and fearful in the face of bold projects and new ideas. Rather, it will belong to those who can blend passion, reason and courage in a personal commitment to the ideals of American society.

Jay Mathews would call that "romantic fiction." Let's hope not. Let's hope we can still find ways to instill such visions in the minds and hearts of the kids we teach.

Putting a Face to the Number

It is just a week before state testing and to say I am overcome with a sense of urgency is an understatement. In fact I have come to loath the phrase “sense of urgency” since this seems to be my constant state.

This urgent, restless feeling that never seems to go away is not just about the test and making AYP, it is about the children who are still being underserved in our school. It is one thing to look at our past test scores and current benchmark test scores and analyze the data; it is another to look at the faces of the children these numbers represent.

I was in two classes recently where children were sitting idly while one teacher was working on her computer and another teacher was writing grades in a grade book. Brighton’s children cannot afford to lose instructional time. I do not know of many children who can, yet this continues to happen on a daily basis (in the same classes) at Brighton. I have concluded in this work you take baby steps forward, followed, at times, by a giant step backwards. This makes sustained change seem impossible.

On the other hand, I had a wonderful conversation with our reading coach, a classroom teacher, and a paraprofessional concerning one group of struggling fourth grade students who recently have made significant reading gains. The paraprofessional daily takes this group and pulls them a second time every afternoon to repeat the morning intervention lesson. As a result, these students are improving at a fast pace and it is such a joy to see the smiles on their faces. What a delight it was for me to give this paraprofessional a big thank you.

But I'm also thinking about what one of our district’s instructional support persons, who is coming out to teach two days a week in eighth grade, told me—how so many of our eighth graders are not able to read. My assuring her that future students will not be in this shape due to the changes in our K-5 program does nothing to help our exiting eighth grade students who have been so underserved. One of our most recent strategies to assist these students is to pull them from electives and put them with a teacher and a paraprofessional, and an individualized computer program. This is a test strategy, which we hope to continue for the remainder of the year, even though I strongly believe in providing our students with electives.

If we make AYP this year, we will be out of school improvement for the first time in five straight years and two other years further in the past. This is important to our school, our community, and our district. Yet making AYP does not mean that all of Brighton’s children have received a quality education or that they have the ability to go on to become a high school graduate.

It's the faces that haunt me, not the numbers. I cannot let this go. I know this is making me become quite obsessed about the obligation of all educators—especially those who are accomplished—to help correct this wrong.

Oh Happy Day!

There are three little words soaring around in the world of "education buzz," Professional Learning Teams. Anne Jolly, a former Alabama state Teacher of the Year, first introduced me to this concept several years ago at a meeting of southeastern state TOYs, sponsored by the SERVE regional education laboratory where Anne now works.

The idea of teacher-driven, job-embedded professional development fascinated me, and I longed to be part of such a team. Anne gave me a copy of her book, A Facilitator’s Guide to Professional Learning Teams, and I was hooked on this way for teachers to learn together. (John Norton, who helps me maintain this blog, edited the book, and it is a great read with very practical advice.)

From the day I came to Brighton I knew this was something we needed to have in place. Anne, who lives nearby, visited Brighton my first year here, and we briefly talked with our principal about implementing PLT. However, those first two years just did not seem the right time to initiate anything else new. This past summer my principal and I sat down with Anne and she walked us through this process. Our hope was to have the consulting money we needed for Anne to work regularly in our school. But we did not have the funds this year, so we started on our own.

I know what we have done has not met all the standards described in Anne’s book, but what has taken place in our monthly PLT meetings has been pretty amazing.

Following Anne’s steps, our teams decided what they would like to learn more about. Our teachers in 7th and 8th grade chose improving reading comprehension in the content areas. To get started, we read a couple of articles and then we watched and discussed Cris Tovani’s excellent videos on Comprehending Content.

In December, our 7th and 8th Social Studies teacher volunteered to videotape herself using two of Cris Tovani’s strategies. I was so pleased about her being willing to put herself on the line to do this.

I was really excited as I watched Ms. Billups present her video. The technical part was slightly jumpy due to a student serving as the videographer. However, the content was incredible. Our school librarian had assisted her in finding an appropriate article to support her content. Ms. Billups had provided copies of the article for each student as well as made a poster size copy and a transparency. She also made posters and transparencies of the two charts of the strategies. It was an excellent lesson.

As I watched her walk the teachers through the lesson, they began to light up and ask questions. The discussion that followed was really great. I said very little and my principal was not there. It was really about the teachers taking on their own learning. At the conclusion, they all decided they would try these same strategies in other content areas and bring back work samples to share at our next PLT meeting. One teacher volunteered to send the principal the notes from our meeting so she would have an update.

When they left, I literally was jumping up and down because finally we were putting the teachers’ classroom practice in their hands. For so long we have had a top-down model at our school due to the many sanctions of being a school under the state School Improvement sanctions. Now we are starting to build capacity among the staff—the type of capacity that will sustain change for continuous improvement.

The teachers left our meeting with a smile and a plan! Now I know for sure there is great power in those three little education buzz words—Professional Learning Teams. Thank you Anne Jolly for encouraging us to go forward with this and providing us with such a great guide book to make this happen. I cannot stop humming, Oh happy day!

New Year Realities

It is a new year and as I look back on Brighton at this time two years ago, I realize how much our school has improved. I know how much work it has taken and how many people have been involved to make these needed changes. Yet we have a long way to go before we are a school of high quality in all grades.

I am asked almost on a daily basis, "How are things going at Brighton?" I usually answer, "We are making progress, but it is slow and very hard work." I really wish I had the wit to create the perfect answer for this question—to really explain what it is like and why I have a constant ache in my chest for the children.

I mentioned in one of my recent entries that it is not that the children are hard to teach, but many have been through so much. Recently, an eighth grade female student was brought to my attention concerning her lack of effort. Let's call her Tisha. I had already looked at her test scores. On our state assessment, she scored the highest possible, a Level 4 and on the SAT 10, she scored in the 98th percentile. I was asked to talk to her about her declining grades. The teachers indicated Tisha's attitude had changed drastically since last year.

With her test scores in my hand, I called Tisha to our conference room. First, I asked her if she realized she had the highest test scores in Brighton and possibly some of the highest in our district. I asked her how it felt to be so smart and I readily admitted to her, I never scored in the 98th percentile. She beamed as I bragged.

Then I asked her if she was making all A’s. Tisha frowned and said "No!" I asked her about completing her assignments and she shrugged. I could see her visibly closing up on me. Finally, I asked her what she wanted to do and she immediately replied, "Be a doctor." My response to her was she had all the potential to make this happen. I told her if she would keep her grades up and continue to maintain high test scores, colleges would seek her out. She looked at me like "Yeah, right." Our first conversation ended with a thud. She has no hope.

I have to admit to myself how we have failed Tisha. She is in a school with no honors classes, no science lab, and only the most basic curriculum offered. I wonder where would she be if she had been born among the affluent “over the mountain” students who live in Birmingham's exclusive 35223 zip code, rather than in the 35020 zip code of Brighton.

As I ride through Brighton looking at the dilapidated homes, the unkempt cemetery across the street from the school, and (as one of our veteran teachers pointed out to me) too many people sitting on the porch, I too am tempted to lose hope. How can five numbers make such a difference in your destiny? Public schools are supposed to help bridge the zip code gap, but what Tisha gets in our school every day is still continents apart from what is offered in the public schools just 15 minutes away.

What will happen to this bright young girl and the rest of her classmates after they leave our school, where we have had so little to offer in grades 6-8? I am reminded of Ruby Payne’s words in her book Understanding Poverty: "The key to achievement for students from poverty is in creating relationships with them." Establishing relationships is something we can do, but it has to be consistent and intentional. The hard part is trying to truly meet the needs of all the students while increasing our school’s test scores.

My hope is that we will make AYP again this year, and with the sanctions of No Child Left Behind removed, we can concentrate on creating the quality school the children deserve.

The Best Christmas Present Ever

One of my favorite Christmas stories is Barbara Robinson's The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Last week, after reviewing our most recent benchmark test data, I felt like Gladys Herdman in the last line of the book when she yells out, "Hey! Unto you a child is born!" Only I wanted to shout, "Hey! It can be done!"

For those of you who have read my earlier blog entries, I have continually lamented over one grade level of our students. These are the kindergarten children I worked with when I first went to Brighton four years ago. I often refer to these children as the "snake group" as they are the ones who had snakes living in the walls of their kindergarten classroom. This group of children (now in fourth grade) won my heart that first year. However, they've continued to weigh heavy on my mind as they have been so underserved by our school.

Last year, when they started third grade, more than 80 percent were at-risk according to our state's reading assessment. In October this year, 47 percent were considered at-risk. Last week, after analyzing our benchmark tests, I can say that this group is finally and definitely making real progress.

What did it take for this to happen? For one thing, some very non-traditional scheduling. Last May, after a school walk-through by folks from the Alabama Reading Initiative, I sat down with our ARI Principal Coach (yes, they actually have coaches who help principals become leaders of reading instruction!), the State Peer Assistant for School Improvement, our principal, and Brighton's in-house reading coach. We decided something had to be done for these students immediately. We all realized they could not afford another dysfunctional year with little progress. The window of opportunity for these children to become readers was closing rapidly.

During the summer months, we worked diligently on a plan. Our principal committed to adding a new class unit to this grade level to keep the class size to 12 or less. This strategy had been tried before with few positive results. So this time we looked carefully at the strengths of our faculty and made the decision to have all the reading in grades 3 and 4 taught by our two strongest teachers and one new hire. (The new hire was a gamble that has turned out well.)

In addition, our reading coach assigned six other people including special education teachers, a speech teacher, and one paraprofessional to work with this group during our 30-minute intervention period. This additional support created clusters of five students or less for small-group intervention. All teachers involved went through training in the use of a very intensive scripted reading intervention program, and they continue to have monthly coaching from the program's consultant. Our core-reading program was also added to fourth grade with teacher training and monthly coaching.

Our entire schedule for our K-5 building was restructured to insure optimum instructional time for this group. Our third grade teachers agreed to teach reading in the content area for Social Studies and Science. Teachers in other grades accepted schedules that were not always convenient to make these adjustments for this fourth grade class. Our principal, reading coach, and myself made pleas to our faculty about the entire school taking on these nine-year-olds. Everyone has risen to the challenge.

There were so many times I thought this group of students would leave our school as non-readers. Now I can finally say most of these nine year-olds are really reading! This is the best Christmas present ever! What could be better a gift for a child than the ability to read? So let me say, in the true spirit of the season: "Hey! It can be done!"

The Swings

I have worked in Title I schools for the past 23 years. I am amazed that I can still be shocked by the conditions in which so many of our children in America live and try to learn.

When I began teaching in Leeds, Alabama in 1982, I found I was totally unprepared for the situations that the children in my first grade class faced. The poverty, neglect, and abuse that many of my students experienced every day overwhelmed me. I wanted to change the world for them. It took me several years to realize I could not make their world magically change into the happy place we would wish for all our children.

The old feeling of sadness and frustration came to me again a few weeks ago, as I realized how many of our Brighton students are children without a childhood.

For the past few months, employees from Vulcan Materials have worked tirelessly to move and renovate our poor dilapidated playground. What little equipment we had was sitting unsafely on a rocky hill. Through the efforts of these generous volunteers, the playground is now located on a beautiful grassy area and for the first time we have swings for our children. The PTA also purchased a new slide. It is beautiful!

After completing the swings, the volunteers asked for a student to come out and try the swings to check the height and safety. The office sent a fourth grade girl. When she came out and saw everyone at the swings, she immediately said, "I don’t like to swing." Still, they encouraged her, and she sat on of the swings while someone gave her a slight push. She said little and returned to the building.

Later, she confessed to the reading coach that she did not know how to swing—that, in fact, she'd never been on a swing before. I was taken aback. Doesn’t every child know how to swing? Swinging is so much a part of childhood that Robert Louis Stevenson wrote about it in his Child's Garden of Verses: How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing, Ever a child can do!

We discovered the swings, purchased long ago, stuffed in a school closet. The reading coach told me that since she began teaching at Brighton (12 years ago), our school had never had swings on the playground.

The next day I went out with the Kindergarten and First Grade classes to introduce them to the swings. About half of the students knew what to do, the others stood quietly and watched, but they all got a turn. It was a thrill to watch their faces as they realized what it meant to swing!

You may think I am making too much of the children having the opportunity to swing. But for me, swinging is the perfect symbol of what childhood should be—a time of freedom and innocence, when the simplest pleasures make the world a joyous place to be.

What grates on my soul is what has replaced swinging and playing and laughing in the lives of many Brighton children. We have good parents in our school who want so much for their kids. But we also have many situations of neglect and abuse. The nine-year old girl we asked to test the swings has reportedly been sexually abused. She and others have rarely had the opportunity to be a child. This is why this playground is important. We want our students to have more of those “common childhood moments” they deserve.

When interviewing prospective teachers for our Title I school, I always tell them that teaching here will be challenging not because our children are difficult to teach, but because so many bring some really abysmal baggage with them to school each day.

I share with them my understanding that school is the best place for many of our students, and we have to commit to make each of our classrooms a haven of safety, as well as an environment that will bring joy and learning into their lives.

This is quite a challenge with all the current mandates, but a necessity when working with children from poverty. You have to provide the swings.

Up in the air and over the wall,
             Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
             Over the countryside—

Till I look down on the garden green,
              Down on the roof so brown—
Up in the air I go flying again,
              Up in the air and down!

A New Year: All Green and Happy

Alabama's official test-score release date was August 8 this year, and I arrived at school around 6:40 a.m. because FOX SIX News was going to come to our school to cover the story.

I cannot tell you how nervous and excited I felt that morning. My principal and I had analyzed the scores ourselves and were given some hints that we had met our Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) goals. But we'd been in the State School Improvement program for five straight years, and we weren't going to stop holding our breath until we saw the AYP report on paper.

The reporter did a stand-up for the morning news and left. Around 9 a.m., our superintendent Dr. Phil Hammonds hand-delivered our long awaited outcome. There was stillness in the room much like the Oscars as our principal, Margie Curry, opened the envelope.

She stumbled over the results slightly when the first thing she noticed was a red bar. In our state, red cells on your AYP report mean you did not make all of your benchmarks. But a closer look told her that we had no red cells for our 17 objectives—every square was filled with a beautiful green!

She told me later that she almost had heart failure when she saw the red bar. It was actually an indication that our School Improvement status was now "delay," which means that if we can meet AYP again this year, we will no longer be counted among the state's lowest performing schools.

It's hard to describe the powerful emotions we felt when we realized that we had made AYP at last. There were immediate shouts of joy and the tears began flowing. What a contrast this was to my first faculty meeting three years ago, when Ms. Curry shared the dismal news of our making only 38% of our 2003-2004 goals. I remember seeing the gloom, concern and even anger on the teachers' faces that day. Although I was brand-new in the school, I shared the feeling of defeat. The idea of making 100% seemed an impossible task.

As the good news began to sink in, the pride in accomplishment rolled like a tidal wave throughout our school and our community. The Brighton success story was told over and over that day as reporters came throughout the morning to interview faculty, administration, and parents. Governor Bob Riley’s office called to schedule a visit on the first day of school.

The day Governor Riley came, several of us were asked to speak. As I stepped up to the microphone, I looked into the faces of many who share my dream of Brighton becoming a first class school. I also saw the faces of many others who told me it could never happen. We are not there yet, but this is a huge step. I am hear to say it can be done!

The job before us now is to truly create a school of the highest quality for Brighton’s children. Yes, there is much hard work ahead, but building on the success of the past two years is much easier than trying to build on years of failure. Our eighth grade English teacher has coined a slogan for us: “Onward ever, backward never!" The impossible has become possible.

Blooms At Last – Hope for the Future

A few weeks ago as I stepped outside my backyard, I froze in the open doorway and stared in amazement at the first blossoms ever on the Lady Banks Rose I planted seven years ago. I have conscientiously taken care of this rose for seven years and it finally bloomed. I had given up hope.

As I stared at the few yellow blooms, I thought how symbolic these blooms were in many aspects of my life. This particular rose meant much to me as I had a massive Lady Banks Rose at the small farm where my husband and I raised our children in Leeds, Alabama. When I was forced to sell our farm due to my husband’s sudden death, I brought very few items from our home to where I live now. I did bring the porch swing with the carved hearts my husband bought for me on an impulse when we were visiting a small Alabama town years ago. I planted my Lady Banks Rose by this swing at my new home.

My first thought was perhaps these bright yellow blossoms were a sign that I will not always live with this overwhelming burden of grief that has been my constant companion for so long. Maybe I will find a new life for myself and it will not always be an effort to go through the motions of living.

I thought of my professional career as a teacher. My journey the past two years at Brighton School has left me exhausted and feeling more like a novice teacher than a veteran of 24 years. I will say that I am finally feeling like I have some understanding of what it is like to work in a school that has been in multiple years of school improvement. This has been a very unfamiliar world to me, and I was not prepared for this work. I so underestimated the needs of Brighton. In spite of this, I now have the sense of what it is going to take to make real progress and how this can be accomplished.

I also looked at these blooms and smiled as I thought about the title of this blog – "Brighton's Hope." Brighton has come a long way in the past two years. I know there is a lot still to be done, but I believe we have a solid plan now that will guide us and help our school to become the place the Brighton children deserve. Brighton is blooming!

In my last blog, I wrote about my moving to the Middle School building next year. I cannot deny the fear this move instills in me. This is a tough building. Nevertheless, I am compelled to be in this building as much as possible next year. I will miss the hugs I get every day from our younger students and their calling out to me,”Mrs. Doctor Rogers.” I will also miss the teachers with whom I have developed friendships and have established good working relations. I have promised to visit them daily next year.

Working at Brighton has been the most challenging, but the most exciting experience of my professional career. It has made me stronger in my beliefs about what all children deserve, challenged all of my previous knowledge, and motivated me to keep on going. I want to be at Brighton when it comes into full bloom. That will be the day when every class is a place where every child has consistent, quality instruction that offers meaningful learning experiences. I know now my dream for Brighton can become a reality.

This is my last blog of this year. I do not know if I will continue to share this story in the year to come. I think many may be tired of my story. I hope in some way I have offered some insight into the challenges faced in a hard to staff school.

I appreciate Barnett Berry from the Center for Teaching Quality for giving me this opportunity to write my story. And a big thanks to John Norton, moderator of the Teacher Leaders Network, who edited my entries and was a constant source of encouragement. I also would like to thank a teacher whom I met online through my blog. Joe Bellacero has consistently commented on my entries, sharing his many years of experience teaching in a high poverty school. I would also like to share the link to Joe’s blog. You will want to read his last days at school before retirement. It is a beautifully written journal of a teacher's heart.

Finally, thanks to those of you who have sent kind words of encouragement and comments. I have found a very real support group in the virtual community of teachers. I hope you find joy in your journey — and new blooms on your roses.

Betsy Rogers

Middle School Experts: Help Us Save 122 Students

Three years ago today, I was named National Teacher of the Year. As I reflect on that day and what it meant for me to represent the teachers of America for a year, it all seems like a fantastic dream. The sense of pride I felt for the teaching profession was overwhelming.

Today, at the age of 54, I finally had to look myself in the mirror and say out loud — “There are educators who do not care!” I have so long believed in the premise that every person who chose to go into the field of education did so because they cared about children and hoped to make a difference in the life of a child.

I was wrong. Not all educators care. I can hardly breathe with the hurt that this realization creates inside me.

I will tell you who does care, and that is the children I am with everyday at Brighton School. For the last few weeks during testing, I returned to my old job of breakfast duty. When I was in the classroom everyday, this was not something I enjoyed. Last year when I began my career as a Curriculum Specialist, this was a part of my daily routine. I could not wait to be with the kids in the lunchroom every morning. However, this year, my principal felt I did not need to do this any longer.

Something happened on my recent return to "breakfast duty" to confirm my belief that children have an innate sense of how to take care of each other, especially children from poverty.

One morning, a fourth grade student was sitting with one of our kindergarten students. This particular young child came to our school after Christmas. He displays serious developmental delays and has a very limited oral vocabulary. As a result, he screams a lot, entering the lunchroom many mornings yelling at the top of his voice. Two weeks ago, I noticed he was sitting by one of our fourth grade boys and was behaving beautifully while eating his breakfast.

When I went to speak to him and compliment his behavior, the fourth grade student informed me that taking care of this student at breakfast was going to be his job. I just smiled and presumed he had been asked to take this task on. Later, I learned that the fourth grader had decided to take this challenge on himself. This fourth grade student is probably one of the most streetwise kids we have and here he is wiping this child’s mouth, tying his shoes, then walking him to class. The young kindergarten student responds beautifully to his directions and I cannot tell you how much difference it makes in how this child starts his day.

Brighton kids care about each other and what a wonderful example they are to us as adults. I just wish the adults making decisions about their futures cared as much.

In previous blogs, I have been very outspoken about the needs of our middle school students. This past week in reviewing mid-nine weeks progress reports, it was discovered that 30 out of the 42 students in eight grade are failing English for this last nine weeks of school. My heart breaks for our students, as I know we have failed them. I look in the faces of our kindergarten students who have made so much progress this year and know we have very little to offer them for the future. Unless things change, one day they will be eighth graders in a school that is not equipped to prepare them for high school.

I've mentioned in past blogs that because of our campus set-up and our district staffing and resourcing rules, being a K-8 school puts us at a serious disadvantage as we try to improve. This past week it was announced to my principal that our school would remain K-8, even if we are given a new building in the future. When she first told me this news I wanted to wave a white flag and say, "I am defeated, I am done, I have lost all hope." However, I cannot look in the faces of the Brighton children and give up. In the next breath, I asked my principal if I could move to our middle school building next year.

Middle school is not my area of experience or expertise, so I need responses from any of you who are middle school experts. Where do you start to create a school for 122 students in grades 6-8, many of whom have poor reading skills and weak foundations in math?

This is what we have to offer:

•    Student teacher ratio of 1-10,
•    Good reading resources,
•    A computer lab
•    Outstanding art and music programs
•    Girls and boys basketball

This is what we do not have:

•    Honors classes
•    School clubs
•    Extracurricular activities
•    Sufficient staffing

My question is, how do you get them ready for high school?

I would so appreciate any and all responses to help these students. I know there are some in my district who wish I would quit talking about this situation at Brighton. After all, in the second largest school system in the state, 122 kids in one small school do not deserve this much attention, so I am told.

However, I cannot remain silent on this issue. The only hope for these students lies in the time they spend at school. They deserve our best effort. We cannot continue to fail them.

Proud to Be an American Teacher

During March, I had the wonderful opportunity to visit schools in China through the People to People Ambassador Program. I was part of the Early Childhood Delegation for National Board Certified Teachers. Our rich cultural experience included a visit to the C'ien Temple, a walk through the Stone Forest, a climb on the Great Wall, and a chance to view the Terra Cotta soldiers — a collection of 8,000 life-size figures of warriors and horses discovered in 1974. We also enjoyed a traditional Chinese meal with a Chinese family in their home.

During our stay, we visited a variety of Chinese schools and two universities. One goal of our trip was to gain more understanding of the philosophy of Early Childhood Programs in China and observe Chinese teaching methods. The school visits were illuminating. We learned there are five fields of focus in Chinese Early Childhood Education Programs: health, language, social, science, and art. Under Chinese law, every child has a right to an education and good health. Kindergarten students vary in age from two to five years old, and "preschool" students are typically six to seven years old. The Chinese educational philosophy was more progressive than one might expect. Their education leaders emphasize respect for the individual student and believe children learn best through play.

While the kindergarten programs for children ages 2-5 were quite impressive with their Montessori-style classrooms, I was quite taken aback by the fact that many of the young children board at school during the week. For a mother who was a stay-at-home Mom for six years, this is not something I could have imagined for my two sons. I am not sure this would be accepted in America — certainly not on a large scale. I will have to say the children all looked healthy and happy.

It was also overwhelming to see 50 to 70 students in each primary classroom, with one teacher and one assistant teacher. I will say that the organization and regimens of the classes were very impressive!

During our visit we were told that, in the public schools we visited, there was no special education population. Students take a test early on to determine their needs. If the determination is made that they need special instruction, they go to a special school (at a very young age).

I could not help but compare the homogeneity of what we saw in the Chinese schools and classrooms to the look of a typical American classroom where there is so much diversity. For example, one teacher in our delegation works in school where there are 17 languages spoken. All of the American teachers worked with students who have a wide range of academic and physical needs.

So often American schools are criticized for our level of achievement, which is sometimes compared in international studies to the achievement of students in China. What we seldom hear is how different the composition of schools is in the two nations. In America, teachers are in the trenches every day striving to meet the needs of a much more diverse group of students in order for each child to experience success.

As I reflected on this difference in our roles as classroom teachers in two very different cultures, I could not help but be reminded of the poem at the base of the Statue of Liberty:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

These words might appropriately be emblazoned over the doors of many of our public schools. I am very proud to be an American teacher. I realize we are asked to take on much as teachers in our nation's classrooms, but would we want it any other way? Our country was founded on the principles of equal rights and an equal chance to succeed. Even with our deficiencies in trying to achieve this ideal, we never stop trying.

What Kids Want and Deserve

Last Saturday, I had the privilege of going with a group of Brighton students to present a Peace Corps World Map they had painted to a Japanese Delegation at the Birmingham Festival Arts Japanese Workshop. This event was held at a new middle school across town. This new building was incredible and very high tech. Our students entered the building with wide-eyed amazement and immediately began whispering to each other about the facility. One student said, “We are in paradise!”

Their reaction to this school did not surprise me. I was pretty blown away myself, especially when one of the video monitors in the front hallway was showing a PowerPoint of our students painting the map. I cannot tell you how many times we watched this presentation.

I know children want to go to a beautiful school. I want to work in a beautiful school. I was so glad I could tell the children as they oohed and aahed over this school that we were going to have a new building in two years. Several weeks ago it was announced that Brighton would have a new $9 million facility. Construction is going to start this summer. I know many people in the community have a strong attachment to the old 1950’s building; however, the children of Brighton need something new. They need to know that their educational needs are valued and what more concrete expression of this than to have a new building. I can’t wait!! All children want and deserve a safe, clean, and beautiful school to attend every day.

The other incident that occurred last week involving students’ reactions did surprise me. As our teachers have prepared for state testing and analyzed benchmark testing data, it became evident that we had some real areas of content need. To assist our teachers and to insure ours students had access to all content, on behalf of our State Peer Assistant I requested additional support help from our district instructional supervisors. My request was honored and these supervisors are coming in to team-teach with our teachers.

During this time, eighth grade students are getting 90 minutes of assisted instruction in English and Math. After the first 90-minute English block, the eighth grade students in one class clapped for the supervisor’s lesson. The student’s reaction to the lesson made the supervisor become quite emotional. She told me she felt like a star!

I have only one year’s experience in teaching middle school, but I do not think this is a common occurrence for eighth grade students to clap for a lesson well done by a teacher. If memory serves, my own two sons at this age did not think it was too cool to appreciate a teacher’s work. However, our Brighton kids really appreciated this effort by an outside teacher. This tells me kids want good instruction and this particular group is hungry to learn.

During the 70’s, the expression “all children can learn” became quite popular. I have to admit I am of this teacher generation, and this quote is deeply embedded in my own teaching philosophy. What I know now is that all children can learn, if they have quality instruction led by highly effective teachers in a safe and healthy environment.

This is what kids want and what they deserve.

Life in the Trenches of School Improvement

I often liken the world of "School Improvement" that Brighton has become to an inhospitable planet, because it is truly difficult to survive in this realm. This week I have been totally frustrated by the many layers of regulation our school is under—and by well-meaning people who do not have a clue.

My late father's first rule in running a business was to prioritize your time by doing the important, not the urgent. I feel so often my work is determined by immediately responding to the urgent, while I let the important suffer. And the important thing is: We need to improve instruction to increase student achievement.

Last Monday, my day started off with more revisions to our never ending Schoolwide Plan (federal) which has consumed my life for weeks. I know writing this plan is part of being a Title I School, but whoever thought it was necessary for this plan to be written in a narrative form has obviously never worked in a school.

Our School Improvement Plan (state), on the other hand, was clear and concise. The SIP plan, due in October, was in the form of a chart, and I really believe this plan gives us a map of how to improve our school.

As I write these plans, I try to add the hours spent on completing this work, and I wonder who writes these plans in other schools if they do not have someone on staff like me to do all of this. During grade level meetings we discuss our goals and objectives, analyze data, and determine benchmarks, and then I compile all of this and do the writing of the plan. This is my way of making sure that the production of these plans does not interfere with instructional time. I believe the number one purpose of my position as School Improvement Specialist is to provide support for teachers and protect our instructional time. I call it "SIT" — Sacred Instructional Time.

Following my early morning meeting on the Schoolwide Plan, I went to my next meeting for School Improvement Specialist Training. This is the training I have been hungry for and the reason I actually took this new assignment. I want to learn everything I can about School Improvement in order to help Brighton and other schools in my district. I have been so fortunate to learn so much this year from our State Peer Assistant, Linda Hatton, but I want to know more.

Well, the first two hours of our training was devoted to Questioning Skills. I agree these are important teacher skills, but I am sitting there thinking about the 28 days we have until testing and wondering how this applies to what I need to know NOW. Needless to say, I was in knots as I tried to listen. I actually wanted to stand up and say, "Where have you people been? Do you not understand the pressure everyone in this room is under? Please give us some useful information we can use right now!"

These meetings were followed by the results of our most recent benchmark testing being posted. To say the least, this was not great news. According to these tests, several classes have only mastered three objectives for the year. Now I am in the panic mode.

In this panic state, I receive a call from a consultant who will be coming to our school within the next few weeks. This is a part of our school's Comprehensive School Reform Grant. From my experience with our CSR program, I believe this is an another well-intentioned government program that throws money at the problem of low performing schools, but does not offer many real solutions. If the CSR program at our school is an indicator of what CSR offers, then as an educator and a taxpayer, I say "what a waste." This is a layer we do not need at our school because again they do not have clue about the pressure we are under.

If there is one thing I could do for schools "under the gun" for low performance, it would be to simplify life for these schools. Take away all the layers that do not focus on student achievement and send someone into the school who understands the pressure and has real solutions that work. This is what I have found in our State Peer Assistant this year. She gets it. For all the others who think they know, but have never worked in low performing school before, I ask you to come live in my trench and learn.

A Dream Denied

Last week I was getting ready for school when I heard the breaking news of Coretta Scott King's death. I was immediately saddened by her departure from this world. I never met Mrs. King, but I felt as though I knew her. I grew up in Alabama, her home state, during the Civil Rights Era, attending the Birmingham City public schools from grades 1-12. It was a very confusing time for me.

I recall the many times my mother and I would ride the bus to shop in  downtown Birmingham. In those days, going shopping was quite an occasion—we put on our best dresses, white gloves, and my mother always wore a Sunday hat. I distinctly remember asking my mother why we could not sit in the back of the bus. I thought the long leather seat at the back looked like the best place to be. I can never recall her answer to me, but I think perhaps she told me after we got off the bus that black people sat in the back. I did not understand this at all.

As a young teenager, my best friend and I would ride the bus every Wednesday during the summer to go to the Shopper's Matinee at the Alabama Theater. By then, the white gloves were gone and there were no restrictions on where anyone sat on the bus. But I was really an adult before I understood the sacrifices of Rosa Parks and others who persevered during the Montgomery Bus Boycott to make this a reality.

Today, I wish I could say the racism and classism the Kings so fervently opposed has disappeared from Alabama and our nation. But I still see it every day as I look into the eyes of Brighton's children. There is still a great stigma attached to being a poor child of color.

You may recall that Brighton School is a K-8 school, housed in two buildings separated by several hundred yards. For years, students in our small middle school have not had a designated feeder pattern to a high school but instead choose from one of two high schools in our area. Other students who attend these schools start together in middle school and then go to their feeder high school together. Our students are scattered, and their transition to these large high schools is bound to be traumatic, after spending their middle school years in small classes with as few as 10 students, all on one hall.

In addition, our students do not have the extra-curricular activities offered in our other middle schools—nor the accelerated academic classes. Our eighth grade students have historically been older than average. Currently, almost half of of our 45 students in eighth grade are overage, due to retention.

Simply put, we are producing drop-outs. Who can blame the students for giving up when they enter high school? They are immediately identified as "the Brighton kids," who come from the school with the low test scores. Their high school support systems are weak, at best. What are the odds that they will graduate?

So long as our system continues to isolate these children in a small, under-supported facility, hidden away in one of the county's most impoverished areas, this isn't going to change. These kids and their families don't have much clout, and you really have to wonder how much different their lives are today than the lives of their parents and grandparents 50 years ago.

This is the most blatant discrimination I have ever seen first hand. And we are living in 2006, not 1966. I am sorry, Coretta Scott King. We have not yet realized the Dream. Most importantly, I apologize to all "the Brighton kids" across our state and our nation who have been failed by public education.

The New Table

Brighton School is under the state's mandatory School Improvement program for the fifth consecutive year, based on our test scores. Even though we made great gains last year, our school still qualifies for a State Peer Assistant. This year we a have a Peer Assistant who has been in the business of improving schools for eight years. Linda Hatton has been a godsend as she has patiently walked me through the process of school improvement.

From the moment Linda arrived at Brighton, she began talking to me about the need to get someone to donate a conference table for our grade level meetings. I will be honest, I just did not see how this was going to make a difference. I generally dismissed her with a nod as she continually brought this to my attention. I felt our narrow student table and set of rickety chairs sufficed for our weekly hour-long grade level meetings. After all, weren't we as teachers used to making do?

In October, I was speaking to the Birmingham Leadership Cohort at a dinner meeting. The meeting took place in the elegant offices of a prominent local law firm. As I looked around the room at this prestigious and affluent group, Linda's request surfaced in my mind. In my speech, I mentioned that our school needed a conference table for our grade level meetings, and I described the table and chairs we currently used. Somewhat to my surprise, I received several offers to donate a table and chairs. In addition, David Donaldson of Vulcan Materials said his company would adopt our school. I was in awe!

Numerous employees of Vulcan Materials have since visited our school They have started a volunteer reading program in our Kindergarten and Third Grade Classes, provided a catfish/chicken dinner for our faculty and staff on our teacher workday, and worked on our playground on one cold Saturday (they plan to help us completely renovate the playground). They are also sponsoring a field trip for our third-graders at one of their plants.

In December, a beautiful cherry conference table with ten plush chairs was delivered to our school, compliments of Baptist Princeton Hospital. When the teachers saw the new table, they were thrilled. Comments were made that they were "real" professionals now! In fact, the men who delivered the table were so astonished by the joy displayed by teachers for the new table, that their company is now donating two elegant teacher's desks with chairs. I was stunned by how the new table had such an immediate impact on teacher attitudes. I am sure I looked bewildered as I caught Linda giving me a big smile and the "I told you so" look!

Since that day, I have thought often about why I did not see the value in this new table for our teachers. The only explanation I can come up with is that I still have the mindset of many classroom teachers who believe our job is about sacrifice. Teacher professionalism is one of my constant themes, something I talk about often in speeches. However, I have been so focused on professional conduct and performance that I did not take time to think about how we are treated. Linda, who has worked for years in many low performing schools across our state with great success, knew this was where we had to start. When teachers are treated like professionals, their self-image begins to change.

I am embarrassed about this blind spot in my own vision of teacher professionalism. I hope never again will I miss the opportunity to speak up for the needs of teachers who give so much. This will become a standard practice for me in any community or corporate speeches I have the opportunity to give.

Every Wednesday, I hope you will picture Brighton teachers sitting around a beautiful cherry conference table in very comfortable chairs, discussing our work and our students in a very professional manner.

Keeping a Rich Curriculum Balance

As I start the new year at Brighton, my resolution is to consistently work toward a balanced curriculum. It is so easy to get caught up in the ongoing effort to make "Adequate Yearly Progress" and let the mandates of No Child Left Behind, control everything we do.

My first experience with this was during my term as State Teacher of the Year. I went one day every other week to help at the elementary school in our state with the lowest test scores. This was about an hour and a half drive from my home. Always during my drive back, I was overcome with a sense of dismay at what I saw happening in this school. The whole day appeared to be devoted to preparing for "the test." The curriculum was insubstantial and the school was a dull, lifeless place for children.

It reminded me of what a middle school student in my own county had created on his state assessment test. This student filled in the bubbles to spell out the words, Jesus save me! My reaction was similar as I observed in this school. I feel very strongly about the vital importance of an enriched curriculum in high-poverty schools. As a veteran Title I teacher I became aware long ago that it was part of my job to bring the world to children who often had very few outside experiences.

Now I am in a school that has been in School Improvement for seven out of eight years. Working under pressure to make AYP is a way of life for Brighton. I have written often about the sense of academic urgency that consumes me. However, I have to try to keep this in perspective and not forget about the big picture of giving Brighton children an enriched and well-rounded education to prepare them to compete in (and enjoy) the world.

In order to achieve this for our children, it has to be a conscious effort. Brighton is very fortunate to be part of a local school program called Better Basics. This program not only provides one-on-one tutoring by retired teachers and a volunteer reading program, it includes an enrichment package. The creator of this program, Sue Seay, shared with me how she became committed to bringing enrichment experiences to schools like Brighton.

Sue's children attend the most affluent schools in our state (which are located only about 15 minutes from Brighton). One day, as she picked up her son from school, he was bubbling over about a guest speaker he had just heard. On the drive home, she had a revelation. What her children experienced in their school and community was a major difference between affluent schools and poverty schools. Sue was determined to act on her insight. As a result of her hard work and the Better Basics organization, this year Brighton's children have experienced the Opera of Hansel and Gretel, shared time with author Jim Arnosky, and will see a performance by Poetry Alive this week. We have also been a part of the Peace Corps World Map Project.

In addition, our school system has an outstanding Fine Arts department, and they have arranged for our Third Grade students to be part of a month-long dance course titled Quilts, taught by a professional dance company. Our Fifth Grade students were a part of a writing grant sponsored by the Alabama School of Fine Arts, which made it possible for juniors at the Fine Arts School to come to Brighton bimonthly to write with our kids.

On our own staff, we have a great Fine Arts Team with outstanding full time art and music teachers. Plus, two other teachers on our staff graduated form the Alabama School of Fine Arts and our new first grade teacher is a graduate of Florida's state School of Performance. She has performed at Disney Tokyo and Disney Orlando. This creative team is organizing our first spring performing arts production. Not only is this important for our students, but this also allows us to truly make use of all the talents of our teachers.

If you've read the book No Excuses, which tells the stories of nearly two dozen successful high-poverty schools, you may have noticed that a number of the schools point to their strong fine arts programs as part of the reason they've engaged students and raised achievement.

We have a Fine Arts section in our School Improvement Plan. We believed it was vital for us to include these goals to ensure that this became a reality for Brighton children. We have to not only give the students this exposure, but the opportunity to develop their own talents as writers, artist, musicians, and actors. One day soon I hope our school logo will read:

Brighton School
Jefferson County's Brightest Star
A Fine Arts Integrated Curriculum School

The Season of Hope

This is the season of hope, and as I was rereading my diary from December 2004, I was overcome with my own sense of renewed hope for our work at Brighton School.

Last year at this time, I wrote about one of the teachers telling me I had lost my smile and how this had broken my heart. I did not realize my despair was so transparent. I deeply questioned my choice to work at one of our state's most challenged schools. If you read my last blog, you know I still struggle with the challenges of being at Brighton. This is the hardest work I have ever been a part of during my teaching career.

However, last Thursday, I had an early Christmas gift. The first-ever National Board Certified Teacher in our school system, Becky Doblestein, began a National Board Pre-Candidates Program for Brighton teachers. What a positive step!

She and I have been talking about doing this for sometime, and it has finally come to fruition. I had prepared the teachers for this opportunity, and I thought maybe five or six teachers would come to the meeting. Twelve teachers attended the information session and one more is interested. This was over one-third of Brighton's faculty. I am amazed and delighted.

As a National Board Certified Teacher, I know the grueling work this involves. I also know that going through this process changed my teaching practice like no other professional development. I believe the standards set by the National Board are the standards all teachers should adhere to daily.

I listened as Becky led the teachers through a conversation about their teaching practice and the NB standards, and it came to me that this was one of the few times I have actually heard the teachers discuss in detail all they do to meet the needs of our students. Why don't we have more of these discussions? Simple. We are under so many mandates after being an Alabama "school under improvement" for five years that our lives pretty much revolve around meeting NCLB's Adequate Yearly Progress. Our grade level meetings address what it is going to take to meet these goals. As much as we need time to reflect on the deeper implications of our teaching, that time is very, very hard to come by.

I so admire the teachers for having the courage to even consider pursuing such a process with all the demands they have on them. In all honesty, I have to say if I were still in the classroom it would terrify me to be under the pressure they face daily at Brighton. My heart will always be in the classroom—it is the place I am the happiest. But I do not know how long I would survive in this age of accountability as a full-time classroom teacher. This is why I see my position at Brighton as very necessary. We must provide every bit of support we can for our teachers.

As I look to the New Year, I think there is hope that Brighton will make AYP, but more importantly that with the various professional development programs we have in place the teachers will be given the tools they need to become successful and become the educators they aspire to be.

My wish for the New Year is that success will become synonymous with the words Brighton School.

Teaching Quality Is a Moral Imperative

A few weeks ago I experienced a first in my teaching career. Leaving school one afternoon, I was overcome with the feeling I did not want to return the next day. The source of this feeling was my overwhelming frustration at the apathy displayed by several of my colleagues.

My constant inner battle as a curriculum specialist at Brighton is how to balance what is best for children and at the same time nurture needy teachers. How do you work in a situation where the teacher needs are often greater than the needs of the students?

Last year our school had 272 days of job embedded professional development for our faculty of 42. This averages to be about 6.5 days per teacher. My principal and I firmly believe this was essential instructional training for our staff. We purposely chose a professional development model that offered training followed by intense classroom coaching. Yet here we are not quite four months into the next school year and for some teachers it seems we need to start all over again.

On a daily basis, I see teachers who start classes late, chatting on their cell phones while they eat breakfast in front of the students, whom they often refer to as "those kids." There are even a few classes where I have yet to see any instruction taking place.

As I pour over the last nine-weeks grade distribution forms, I realize that in one middle school grade level 60% of the students are failing Math and English. This is of great concern considering 66% of our eighth grade students are overage (we are a K-8 school).

Recently, I observed the teachers' expressions as my principal shared the first part of the video Failure is Not an Option and talked about her own life experience of growing up as child in a school very much like Brighton. She commended the teachers who made a difference in her life. The teacher reactions to this presentation were for the most part thoughtful and interested. However, the reaction of our weakest teachers ranged from rolling their eyes back in disgust to the one teacher who was busy sending text messages on her mobile device.

In our school we constantly strive to give teachers the support they need. At every grade level meeting, I try to give the teachers some materials that will make their work simpler. Our peer assistant from the State Department of Education disaggregates all of their test data, including quarterly benchmark tests, and pinpoints the exact areas of instructional need. Our schoolwide student-teacher ratio is an enviable 10 to 1. Teachers in our school have unlimited resources to use for instruction. We are constantly involved in ongoing job embedded professional development. This year, our faculty wrote professional standards for Brighton teachers that are posted in all classrooms. But we just aren't there yet.

So, how do we become a faculty of professionals? That's different than asking "when will we have professionals on our faculty?" We already do. We have some wonderful, committed teachers. But we are not yet a faculty where professionalism is pervasive. As the person who is here to assist in instruction, I am weary of feeling like I am the classroom monitor or policewoman, and I have an exhausted sense of urgency for what is not taking place for the children of Brighton in some classrooms.

As a professional educator, I am burdened with what Rick DuFour and others write in Whatever It Takes about our moral imperative to teach our children effectively. I believe we also have a moral imperative to our profession to insuring the quality of teaching. This is the bottom line issue in my school—teaching quality. I do not think my school is alone, as other low-performing schools are attacking this issue by partially or totally restaffing themselves. It is time for teachers to take charge of our own profession and set standards of excellence for all teachers to insure that all children, no matter where they live, have a quality teacher in the classroom.

Some readers may think by writing this I am not being supportive of our profession and that I am not willing to do whatever it takes to help the teachers in my school become professionals. This is not true. I hurt for the teachers in my school. Many of them have spent their careers at Brighton trying to make a difference. The majority of the teachers work very hard, but fail because they lack needed skills. These teachers we can help, but it is slow going and students are falling by the wayside while we work through this process. While it is a true dilemma, at least we can make incremental improvements with those who are willing to grow professionally.

However, I do not know what to do with those who will not try and are protected by tenure. This is a real issue in my school, in my state, and in our profession. This is the spectre that haunts me and motivates me to go back every day and try again.