Brighton's Hope

The Snakes Are Back

In previous writings, I have told the story of the univited snakes that inhabited a kindergarten classroom at my school for two years before an effort was made to remove them. I was "introduced" to the snakes during a visit to Brighton when I was state teacher of the year, and my dismay helped prompt their removal. When I asked to be assigned to Brighton after my year as national TOY, I was  given that very same classroom, now snake-free.

My principal has told me to stop telling the snake story, but I can't, because the snakes have become my symbol of the inequity that exists in so many of our high-poverty schools. Today at Brighton, the snakes are back both symbolically and physically.

The first snake appeared this summer on the front page of the Birmingham News. The story revealed that one of the snakes found three years ago had survived. An instructional aide in our school had taken the snake home to her son who raised the snake as a pet. The story went on to say how the snake had thrived under his nurturing care. I stared at the picture and news article for the longest time; I could not understand why this story created such turmoil inside me. I certainly did not begrudge this creature a healthy life. Then it dawned on me—the snake had survived, but would the children who were kindergarteners in that room that year?

This is what happened to those five year-olds after the snakes were found in their classroom. They were moved to the music room where they remained for three weeks, sitting on the floor as very little instruction took place. They returned to their classroom, but several other incidents limited instruction throughout the year. First grade was a productive year, but it was hard to move the students up to grade level. According to our state assessment, many of the students entered second grade at risk. In second grade some of the children had three different teachers due to various factors; the others had teachers who were struggling with the new programs that were put into place. Today these children are in third grade with 82% at risk.

These are the children who haunt me because I know our school failed them, and they are facing a closing window of opportunity. This breaks my heart and as educators we should all be heartbroken for all the children that we lose along the way.

Other "snakes" appeared in the first weeks of school this year. School started on such a positive note with the news of our significant improvement. After three weeks of daily crises, my principal and I looked at each other and finally admitted we were drowning. The horrible feeling of frustration was beginning to overwhelm us.

I guess we thought the improved test scores would change everything. We we wrong. The snakes are still around, at least symbolically.

Many of our frustrations stem from the aging physical plant of the school, which continually interferes with our attempts to maintain a safe, secure, uninterrupted environment for learning. Many academic concerns also remain to be addressed. Some teachers still refuse to adapt to the changes that are taking place, despite the evidence that when the changes are made, students begin to achieve at much higher levels.

I am so proud of the work last year that improved scores, but scores alone can not create a school that is a functional, positive, professional learning community. We still face issues of trust, faith and commitment, both within our buildings and outside in the larger world, where decisions are made — or not made — that greatly impact our chances of success.

A Great Start for Brighton

School started back this year on August 8, 2005, and our school had better news about our test scores than we could have ever imagined.

When you live in the world of a Title I school under many years of federal and state sanctions, your test scores become your heartbeat. This summer when my principal called to tell me our scores, my heart certainly skipped a few beats. Our scores indicated that last year, we went from the 38% to the 88% level in meeting Adequate Yearly Progress—the gold standard of No Child Left Behind.

I asked my principal to repeat this news to me three times before I started jumping up and down! I was still so afraid to share this news for fear this could not be true that I called a resource teacher with our district's Federal Programs to confirm the report. After her confirmation, I felt like climbing the rooftop of Brighton and shouting to the world , "It can be done! Do not deny hope!"

Instead, I began calling all those who I knew had such a vested interest in our success; a former counselor, our state peer assistant, and my family. I did not call the teachers because I felt this was my principal's joy to share. I could not wait to see their faces. I vividly remembered how the teachers looked when my principal shared the 2003-04 scores on the opening day of school last year. Their faces were filled with anger, frustration, and hurt.

This year's opening day was quite a contrast, full of smiles, tears of joy, and glee. It was a great moment in the history of Brighton. As the announcement was made, it seemed the entire tension in the room left and for the first time the teachers carried themselves with pride.

As a result of our good news, our school received some much needed positive publicity from a local news station and local newspapers. In addition, many people wrote letters of congratulation to our faculty, our principal, and myself. Our faculty received a visit from leaders in our local school district and was recognized at the local school board meeting.

The comments that meant the most to me came from the many people who were pulling for us that I never knew. The first came from our local health inspector one of the first mornings during school breakfast. She came up to me smiling and hugged me so hard saying, "You all did it!" The next day one of the maintenance workers from our district came to me and said, "My wife and I saw you on TV. My wife said it was a great thing for you to come to this side of town and show that the children in this area can achieve."

I was so touched to think that so many people were there to cheer us on, and I realized what was happening at Brighton was giving hope to many. I know it is not all about me—not by a long shot—but I feel so fortunate to be part of this Cinderella story.

A Challenging Road Ahead

When school ended last May, I felt as if I had been on the roller coaster ride of my life. I do not know when in my lifetime I have experienced such a vast range of emotions. I began the year with much excitement and anticipation; this was soon replaced with feelings of being totally overwhelmed and completely unprepared.

Ten days before school started my job was changed from second grade teacher to Curriculum Coordinator. My dream of going to Brighton was first to serve the school in any way I could and also to create a model Title I Lab Classroom. However, my principal, who is the only administrator in this K-8 school—located in two unconnected buildings—felt she needed me to serve in another role. I spent most of my time during the year in the K-4 building because this is my area of experience.

When I am asked what I did all day during my first year at Brighton, my response is "whatever it took to insure instructional time for teachers." Those duties might include bus duty, teaching PE, reading to children, planning professional development, modeling lessons, and cleaning bathrooms. One thing I knew for sure at the end of my very first day is I was not prepared for this job.

Although my four degrees, National Board Certification, nearly 20 years in a Title I school, and a wealth of experiences as Teacher of the Year, prepared me for many aspects of my work, I was not prepared for the demands— body and soul —of working in a school labeled a failure and immersed in a culture of poverty. By the end of the first month, I was not sure that I had what it takes to be effective here. This is a question I continue to ask myself daily.

I have adopted a new motto to help me and others remember that all children deserve an equal chance. It is inspired by a quote from Rick Stiggins, who says that as educators our motto should be, "Do not deprive of hope." For all the "Brightons" in our public education system, I'm expressing this simply as, "Do not deny hope."

You can read my summary of my first year at Brighton at the Teacher Leaders Network website. There were bright spots—we've made progress we can be proud of. But we have a challenging road ahead. You can follow our progress in 2005-06 right here!