А “REAL SCHOOL” IS BORN

By Соllin Рerrу

Lorraine Monroe sat dumbfounded, watching the spectacle before her. She had pulled into the faculty parking lot of Harlem's Frederick Douglass Intermediate School just as the next-to-last-period bell sounded. Dozens of students streamed from exits, running and screaming wildly.

"This is nothing," an administrator told her. "I’ve seen textbooks sail out windows. Even classroom chairs." It was May 1991, and Lorraine Monroe had arrived for a tour of the junior high school where she had just become principal. As kids exchanged whoops and high-fives, she was told that a few days earlier, some students had climbed a 14-foot-high chain-link fence and broken their falls by jumping onto the teachers' cars below.

Monroe knew that Frederick Douglass – once considered among the top schools in New York City – had lost its academic luster. But nothing in her experience as a teacher or as deputy chancellor of New York City public schools had prepared her for this.

As she headed for the office of school administrator Howard Lew, Monroe picked her way through the filthy, graffitied hallways, stepping over students sitting on the floor and past others roaming in groups – even though classes were in session.

Touring with Lew, Monroe took in the broken windows and graffiti coated blackboards. Ceilings in many rooms looked as though they had been systematically punched out by students. Fires had left other classrooms gutted and boarded up.

In class after class, students lounged on windowsills, laughing and gossiping while the teacher tried valiantly to teach. The few kids who wanted to learn were either unable to because of the chaos or afraid to try.

"Seen enough?" Lew asked.

Monroe just shook her head. This isn't a school, she thought. It's a holding pen. What am I going to do?

Dream Maker. Monroe had grown up not far from Frederick Douglass. Back then the neighborhoods were not as devastated by drugs and gangs, but life had been hard. In many ways, it was Lorraine's tough-minded mother who had maintained the family. She had sweated the details, organizing, cleaning, shopping and hustling about on Sundays getting everyone together or church. She made it into a ritual, a real tradition.

That's what's missing from the lives of kids here order and tradition, Monroe thought. Children need a place they can go to escape the chaos.

But ritual and tradition alone weren't the answer. Lorraine's father, a metalworker, was an example of someone always doing the unexpected, always doing the bold thing.

As a child, Lorraine used to pore over newspaper ads for houses in the country. "Look at this one. Dad," she'd call out. "It’s got a fireplace! Sure wish we had one. Can you imagine?"

"Yes, baby, that sure would be something." "Look, here's another one: 'Split-level ranch priced to sell' – and, sec, a fireplace!"

Then one Saturday he showed up with wood to build a fi replace in the living room of their walk-up apartment. No flue? Not a problem. In no time the family was enjoying the best electric-flame fireplace in all of West Harlem. Sometimes, you just had to start from nothing – and be bold.

Then it hit her: did she dare envision starting from scratch with Frederick Douglass?

Real School. A few weeks later, she made her announcement: "The school is being closed, Mr. Lew, and were starting all over."

Monroe explained that she had already talked to the school board about a new approach. With Frederick Douglass such an embarrassment, they were willing to try anything.

"We'll reopen in September and start with the seventh grade; the following year, seventh and eighth, and so on until we have a completely new combined junior and senior high school. We'll no longer be just another school: we'll be Frederick Douglass Academy for college and professional careers."

"Where will everyone go," Lew asked, "while we're getting this under way?"

"They'll be absorbed into other community schools.”

She noticed his look of concern. "Howard, we have a unique opportunity here – not just for tinkering, but for creating a model for all inner-city schools.

I'm talking about real academics, real achievement, real discipline. You know real school."

Lew slapped his hand on his desk. "Real school! I love it!"

Monroe composed a list of "Twelve Non-negotiables" – rules that all students must follow or face real consequences, ranging from in-school suspension to expulsion. The rules included: No gum, candy, hats or radios. No physical or verbal violence. No defacing of school property. Uniforms worn daily. Students must show respect for staff and one another at all times.

The staff devised a college-preparatory curriculum. "Math, science, social science, English and a foreign language will be the basics," Monroe declared.

A few teachers left the school by mutual agreement, feeling the highly disciplined environment was not for them. That allowed Monroe to handpick new teachers – people with enthusiasm and a sense of purpose.

High Expectations. Next, she had to sell the academy to the community. As expected, objections to uniforms – "freedom of expression will be denied" – came from community leaders. But not from parents. Monroe pointed out that uniforms were already prevalent: those of violent gangs and designer-clothing retailers.

"And if they can afford $100 sneakers," Monroe said, "they can afford a traditional outfit or two."

When asked what she expected of parents, she replied, "That you support the concept of high expectations.”

On opening day in September 1991, 150 wide-eyed seventh-graders in navy-and-white uniforms trooped into a new school. The interior shimmered in bright yellow and blue. Clean white tiles hung from the ceilings. Classrooms were completely refitted and open for business.

There was one exception to the "starting over" premise: Robinson Cuevas, a Hoy from the Dominican Republic who had failed miserably in the old school yet slipped through the review process. His papers wound up on Monroe's desk, flagged with a bright red question mark. I may be making a mistake, she thought, but why not give the kid a chance? She stamped the application. “APPROVED”

Rules Are Rules. From that first day Monroe was everywhere, getting to know the kids, encouraging the staff and unexpectedly popping in on teachers – a practice they don't traditionally welcome. "A principal who stays in her office might as well stay home" was Monroe's position.

What she ended up with was a fine academic school running smoothly. Real school. She had innovative, dedicated teachers, and kids who were doing so remarkably well that even she was surprised.

After just one year, Frederick Douglass students scored at the top in their district in city-sponsored tests for reading and math. Monroe’s critics now paid her the ultimate "compliment," claiming that if her kids were performing above average, she must be "creaming" Harlem – taking only the best students. Monroe pointed out school policy: 75 percent of the students had to come from Central Harlem. "No cherry-picking here. Just the hard work of education."

There was no more poignant proof of this than Monroe's ongoing struggle to educate Robinson Cuevas. He was chronically in trouble for talking back to teachers and refusing to work.

One afternoon Monroe sat down to meet with him. "Robinson," she began, "we've tried our best, but things aren't working out. Maybe you'll settle down to work in another environment."

Like so many kids, Cuevas had been conditioned by bluff. Goof off, and you meet with threats and calls home, but never expulsion. Suddenly the young man was near tears.

"Robinson, you’ve had every chance to make it here." ''I know, Dr. Monroe, I know." Then he looked her square in the eye. "I guess I'm asking you to give me one more chance."

"Okay," she said, standing. "But just one complaint from anybody and that's it! Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," the boy replied, trembling visibly.

"Now, stand up," Monroe said, "and let's shake on it."

Feeling Proud. One day in 1994, Lorraine Monroe headed toward a ninth grade class. Long accustomed to his boss's "radical" ideas, Lew had feigned shock when Monroe suggested they offer Japanese at Frederick Douglass.

"Look around you," she'd said. "It's Japanese cars and CD players we're buying. We have to look ahead."

Entering the classroom, she smiled at the young instructor, Chie Mochizuki-Helenski, and took a seat.

"Basuketto booru-no geemu-ni ikimashita," Mochizuki-Helenski intoned.

"Translate, please."

Hands strained toward the ceiling. "I went to a basketball game!" one of the boys shouted. "I taught that one to my mother last night," he said, beaming.

Monroe resisted the urge to pinch herself. Yes, this was Central Harlem, one of the innermost of inner cities. Yes, this was a public school. But this child of the ghetto was not only learning a difficult foreign language; he was passing some of it on to a parent.

By spring of 1996 Lorraine Monroe had many reasons to feel proud. She had brought order and boldness to her school, and it now housed more than 700 students. Nearly all were on course for college. Walking back to her office, she passed a boy who called out, "Hello, Dr. Monroe!" "Hey there, Robinson. All's well?" The stocky, well-turned-out boy gave her the thumbs-up sign and smiled brilliantly. Three years after being given one more chance, Cuevas was one of her "aces," a top student who had just been accepted at Canisius College in Buffalo, N.Y.

Reaching her office, Monroe walked by a school banner that read "The tradition of excellence continues" Lorraine Monroe couldn't resist giving the thumbs-up sign before returning to her desk and to the hard work of education.

Points for discussion:

1. Why was Lorraine Monroe dumbfounded? Was she prepared by her previous experience as а teacher to what she had seen at school?

2. What was Frederic Douglass's reputation? Had the school ever been considered among the top schools in New York City?

3. Who is called а Dream Maker in the story? What was Lorraine's cherished desire of the childhood?

4. What kind of man was Lorraine's father? Did his personality influence her decision to start from scratch with Frederick Douglass?

5. What rules on the list of "Twelve Non-negotiables" were devised by Monroe? Don't you think the same rules would be helpful in our schools? What do you make of them?

6. Can you prove that Frederic Douglass's success was the result of the hard work of education, rather than creaming Harlem?

7. What was that Monroe was so proud of?