Urban Education – an NJ LEEP Blog

On March 18, 2008, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments for District of Columbia v. Heller, the case in which the Court will decide whether the Second Amendment contains an individual right to bear arms.  Within oral arguments, there was a significant repartee between justices and attorneys regarding the minutia of the Second Amendment clauses—in what manner does the placement of commas, the ordering of clauses, and the wording of the clauses effect the substantive right?  Thus, language, sytanx, and grammar will determine whether United States citizens possess an individual right to bear arms.

On February 2, 2008, NJ LEEP high school freshman from Newark, East Orange, Irvington and Jersey City participated in a grammar competition.  In the competition at Seton Hall Law School , students were asked questions regarding all grammar materials they had studied in NJ LEEP’s Saturday grammar classes beginning in September 2007.  As an example, one of the questions was the following:  Which of the following word groups cannot serve as the subject of a sentence? A) gerund phrase B) noun clause  C)  present participial phrase. (The answer, by the way, is C.)

Academic skills are the foundation necessary for the educational attainment necessary to provide forays into the professional worlds.  After learning criminal law and competing in an exciting mock trial competition last summer, our students have often bemoaned the academic focus of NJ LEEP’s high school freshman year.  But we also often speak to them of the power of character—the decision to do what is right even when such decision is patently uncomfortable.   And NJ LEEP’s freshman students revealed their character in full glory on February 2^nd, as they utilized brilliantly in competition the grammar they had learned.  Students also showed that they are beginning to understand the message of the NJ LEEP gospel: It is the dialectic of skills and character that will provide them with the opportunity to maximize their potential.

Mock Trials and other events are very important for our students to build their self-confidence, and for them to become exposed to possibilities they may have hitherto never considered.   But we would be perpetrating upon our students a grave injustice if we excited them about the possibilities of the world, but then did not give to them the skills which are the tools necessary to manifest such possibilities.  We are clear with our students, and our students and their families have joined with us in this cry:  They are involved in nothing less than a war, even if that war is one of true peace based upon equity and justice.  They are involved in a war to build positive and supportive community, to find ways to navigate the dangers of the urban milieu, and to acquire the academic skills which will allow them to destroy the expectations which the world has set for them.

And in this war, language, and the logic which underlies its rules as well as mathematical and critical thought, are the most effective weapons.  The battle for educational, professional, and economic equity is a battle of skills.  The E’s in NJ LEEP stand for Education and Empowerment.  Our community is dedicated to providing skills for our students through education, so that they can understand the empowerment that comes from obtaining, through their own efforts, the wealth of experiences that the world has to offer.  We have been very fortunate to have been joined by many judges, attorneys, law students, law faculty and other volunteers who have given their valuable time to provide empowering experiences.  And our students will be the first to declare, that it is their responsibility to be prepared to excel in such experiences when they are offered.  There is that which is given—but there is also that which must be actualized.  It is in the choice to always engage, that victory is won.

     The essay “Chasing Ghosts” posted on The Urban Education blog on July 10, 2007 received an important comment stating that the essay was idealistic, unrealistic, and based on overbroad generalizations.  The following is a response to that comment.

     Thank you very much for your comment.  Your critique is a very important one.  It is indeed an ever-present danger when considering approaches to such difficult problems as the disparities of urban education that one may make overbroad generalizations.  This danger is perhaps even more acute when writing an essay such as “Chasing Ghosts,” which is based upon experiential and antidotal insights, and does not claim the support of quantitative analysis.

     It certainly may seem as though I was making an assumption in the essay that all urban teens come from “broken homes.”  In fact, I know that this is not the case.  Perhaps we should even shy away from the term “broken homes,” as it seems inevitably to imply at least an implicit judgment.  However, it is also undeniable from my own personal experience of working very closely with urban youth every day that there is an undeniable amount of pain they hold in their psyche from multifaceted sources in their personal lives.  I have had too many long conversations and sharing sessions with the youth we work with about such pain to deny its existence.

     Moreover, there is a tremendous amount of quantitative research which has been performed which has shown that: 1)  More challenging family situations such as children living in single-parent households are far more prevalent in urban areas than they are in non-urban areas and 2)  These more challenging family situations can be traced directly as being one of the factors contributing to the lower skills attainment in urban areas. 

     For example, the book “No Excuses: Closing the Racial Gap in Learning,” by Abigail and Stephan Thernstrom draws upon a wealth of scholarly accepted social-scientific research that shows both that there are concrete reasons, such as more difficult family structures, for the extreme skills attainment disparities between races and between urban and non-urban areas, and that these reasons need not, and should not, be an impediment to achieving racial equality in educational attainment.

     Interestingly enough, the Thernstroms are often termed “conservative” academic theorists.  However, their “No Excuses” book and approach are haled by urban educators producing impressive results who could be placed, if such labeling be necessary, across the political and racial spectrum.  Such empowering educational models embracing the work of the Thernstroms include Achievement First, the parent organization of the successful Amistad Academy in New Haven, the family of KIPP charter schools, successful supplemental educational models such as Legal Outreach in New York City, NJ LEEP in New Jersey, and many more.

      Finally, it must be emphasized that we certainly hope to imply no patronizing critique of urban families.  The families with which we work are as heroic as the students from those families.  Our mission is to work with both students and families so that we all can be more empowered to make positive change.  However, the reality is that many, but of course not all, urban families face tremendous obstacles.  But by facing the true reality of the situation, and the depth of the pain involved, we believe we all can raise our collective expectations, and the collective results, for what we can achieve in the urban educational context.

Craig Livermore

It continues to amaze me that our subjective thoughts are not reality—not even close.  Life is far more endemically free from us than we are from ourselves.  It remains un-phased by our contingently determined and diversely influenced reality.  As much as this is true for all of us, it explodes on the obvious surface for the urban teens that we serve.

The pain that such teens have internalized runs deeply into the interstices of their reality.  Yet they, as we all have a tendency to do, have reified that pain to become something other than it was at its source.  The pain of abandonment—of never really knowing a parent—or, perhaps, never really knowing either parent—for example, strikes at the root of who one is.  To those of us whose parents have been an ubiquitous reality, such pain is almost unfathomable.  Yet, such pain is constantly projected outward when the source has long since vanished.

So, when students respond with overly triumphant swagger and taunts to an opposing argument, they are attempting to show that they can prove themselves.  They desire to display that they can conquer; can win; can take back that which has been so unfairly taken.  The unfortunate paradox in such a display, however, is that it is not strength that is being displayed, but the lack of internal solidity which demands defensiveness instead of composure.

And, it seems to me, such students are really trying to prove themselves to a phantom which not only was never really there, but which need not be there now in their heads.  This is not to belittle the momentous inertia which blocks such realization.  But it is to proclaim that we have seen it done.  It is to say that it can be done, not only in urban heroes, but by ordinary teens challenging themselves to extraordinary things.  For to liberate ourselves from the demons which have been created by others, but which we perpetuate, is to unlock potential which knows no bounds.

But self-liberation is also the most difficult task.  Can we help urban teens self-liberate?  Is this not an oxymoron?  I think the answer is that we can create structures in which it is clear that we expect them to self-liberate—slowly, over time, and with a great deal of support.  We can provide an environment which constantly communicates that not only do we understand the great pain that they feel, but that we know they can—they will—realize that such pain need not determine their reality.

Summary by Matthew Feinstein

      In an article in the July 4, 2007 issue of the New York Times, Winnie Hu explores the relationship between the powerful Newark Teachers’ Union and one of Newark’s previously failing schools, Newton Street School, which is seeking to turn itself around. The story begins by highlighting a new trend in this old relationship: the union telling several teachers that they must leave because they do not “‘fit in with a plan to improve the schools.’” The difficulty in making such a decision is emphasized by union president Joseph Del Grosso.

      Hu explains that Newton had previously been one of Newark’s worst performing schools, failing to meet the federal standards of “No Child Left Behind” by not making “adequate yearly progress” (“AYP”) on state proficiency tests. The school was recently restructured and the teachers’ union is serving on the “takeover team.” Newton has 467 students, most of whom are black and poor, from pre-kindergarten to the eighth grade.  

      Hu tells how the teachers’ union is dedicated to the improvement of Newton, designating over $200,000 of its own funds to professional development, teacher training, a teacher retreat, teacher pay, supplies and a field trip for the students. In addition, Hu tells of the union’s commitment, in conjunction with Seton Hall University, to raise $250,000 for a new school garden and playground.

      The article goes on to explore how direct involvement by teachers’ unions in the improvement of public schools is a growing trend across the country. In addition to Newark, schools in Chicago, Boston, Baltimore, Miami and Minnesota are benefiting from the joint operation of schools by the district and the unions.

      Hu recognizes that, while the union and the school are getting along as of late, there is still a divide between the union and the city government. Cory Booker, the Newark mayor who just began his second year in office, has often been at odds with the union. This dispute stems from the Mayor’s support of school vouchers, which the union sees as a way of funneling money out of the public schools. Recently, Hu notes, animosity has arisen between the parties after the Mayor criticized the union for spending tens of thousands of dollars on an ad campaign that read “Help Wanted: Stop the Killings in Newark Now!”

      Ms. Hu goes on to examine another foe of the teachers’ union: The Center for Union Facts. The center claims that the Newark Teachers’ Union has created obstruction in the challenge to provide better education because of its protection of incompetent teachers. Rick Berman, the Executive Director of the center, said that the schools are stuck with “‘entrenched bureaucracy protecting teachers who ought to be doing something else with their lives other than turning out kids who can’t read their own diploma.’”   

      Mr. Del Grosso says, in an interview with Ms. Hu, that in his view one of the biggest problems in education is a lack of discipline among students. Del Grosso attributes this to a reluctance to intervene into students’ lives and behaviors on the part of teachers, out of fear of abuse allegations or lawsuits brought by parents.

      Del Grosso has related to his constituents, the Newton teachers, that they can expect to take on extra responsibilities and hours in the upcoming year. Hu tells how teachers who are not accepting of this approach will be reassigned to another school because they “‘do not fit in with the plan for the…new Newton.’”

      Another tactic Hu describes is Del Grosso’s plan to have teachers specialize in specific subjects. If teachers lack these specialties, they may be moved. The principal of Newton, Willie Thomas, has welcomed the union’s recent support and involvement. He recognized that “‘once you have the blessing of the teachers’ union, you’re able to do a lot of things to make change.’”

     The school psychologist, Tracey Kuhn, said that some teachers were looking forward to the changes while others were apprehensive. Ms. Hu highlights the fact that unions are here to stay and to fight a battle against them could prove both costly and timely. A fifth grade teacher who is leaving Newton, Annette Alston, conveyed her frustration about the fact that she has “‘poured her heart and soul’” into the school, only to be greeted by failure.

      Hu concludes by emphasizing that the Newton School is a test for the union. If they are able to work with the district and help turn Newton around a potential model could be developed which other schools across the country could adopt. Ms. Hu concluded with a quote from Mr. Del Grosso: “‘I’d love to hear someone say one day when I’m in Chicago, ‘We’re using the Newark model.’ Right now, I think the talent we have is dwarfed by all the problems.’”

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/07/04/nyregion/04school.html?ex=1184385600&en=1bd7a6a19ff39cd8&ei=5040&partner=MOREOVERFEATURES

Summary by Matthew Feinstein

In the recent article “States Found to Vary Widely on Education”, Tamar Lewin of The New York Times highlights the growing disparity in academic standards from state to state.  A United States Department of Education report released last week has, for the first time, quantified these variances. Detractors of “No Child Left Behind”, President Bush’s flagship education program, directly attribute these inconsistencies to what they see as a failed education policy. The report recognizes the inherent inequalities fostered by a system that was designed to protect state autonomy, while expecting national uniformity in education standards.  Lewin notes that this report is likely to embolden critics of “No Child Left Behind” who advocate a national standard to ensure that all children educated in the United States are on a level playing field.

            The report attempts to calibrate statewide standards to the National Assessment of Educational Progress (“NAEP”), largely seen as the high-water mark in educational proficiency testing. Further, the report notes that not one state has set its proficiency level as high as the national test does. Rather, most states’ proficiency standard is closer to the “basic” achievement level on the NAEP, the lowest of the test’s three scoring categories.

            Lewin illustrates these disparities by juxtaposing two bordering states. Missouri , on the one hand, would require eighth graders to attain a score of 311 on the national math test in order to be judged proficient on the statewide test. This is actually a higher standard than the national test requires to be judged proficient. On the other hand is Tennessee , which exemplifies the opposite end of the spectrum. There, a student will be categorized as proficient by scoring above 230 on the national test, far below the lowest level of acceptability, “basic”, on the national test. Another interesting finding that Lewin points out is that “the differences between state proficiency standards were sometimes more than double the national gap between minority and white students’ reading levels.” The point Lewin appears to be explaining is that state by state assessment standard differentiation is so extreme as to remove much of the statistical relevance of state standards.

            Lewin reveals the apparent parodox fostered by NCLB, in that it encourages states to create easier tests in order to avoid sanctions. Education experts that make this critique advocate a national standard. However, Secretary of Education Margaret Spellings feels that it is too early to jump on board with a national standard and that it would be premature to judge state standards as being too low.

            The article concludes by pointing to a survey released by the Center for Educational Policy which found that since NCLB was enacted in 2002, “student achievement had increased and the racial achievement gap narrowed in many states.” However, Michael J. Petrilli, Vice President of the Thomas B. Fordham Foundation, retorted that “‘even if students are making progress on state tests, if tests are incredibly easy, that doesn’t mean much.’”

http://select.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=F20B16F834540C7B8CDDAF0894DF404482

Craig Livermore

Half Nelson could only very uneasily take a place in the cannon of inspirational urban education movies.  It is thankfully obvious that the creators of this gritty, raw, and, I would say, real, story of collective brokenness, race, and education set out with no desire to join any inspirational genre.  Well-done inspirational movies can serve a very important purpose.  Akeelah and the Bee, for example, although subject to some criticism for its occasional flight from the real to the phantasmic, is in all a sweetly written and well acted movie whose up-beat message gives sufficient ode to the cultural challenges faced by any student seeking intellectual excellence in an urban environment.

Half Nelson, however, realizes that such inspiration can be quickly lost after we dry our eyes and walk outside to face the messiness of reality.  Half Nelson reminds us that for every American Dream, there is an engulfing culture of nightmare in which many are living.  This movie deftly stops short of giving any solution or moralistic road maps, but I cannot help but to speak a lesson which I think naturally flows from its artistic manifestation.  This admittedly projected message is as follows:  First, those of us (and we all should be) who are concerned with the urban educational environment, should seek to understand the depths of brokenness in the culture that we all share.  Second, growth, development and transformation will never occur in large measure in our youth, until we are courageous enough to face our own demons and imperfections, and thus open ourselves to the type of growth that can only be revealed through existential struggle.

It was easy to miss during this February’s Oscar celebrations that Ryan Gosling was nominated for the “Actor in a Leading Role” award for his work in Half Nelson as Dan Dunne, a white, crack-addicted middle school teacher in a mostly black school in Brooklyn .  Gosling walked down the red carpet very much in the shadow of the other nominees—Leondardo DiCaprio, Peter O’Toole, Will Smith, and Forest Whitaker, the eventual winner.  But Gosling’s skill in showing us the simultaneous existence of falleness and virtuous intent is matched only by the ability of his co-star Shareeka Epps (Drey) to reveal the marriage of sweetness and potential with a painful emptiness looking for answers in all the wrong places, which is so natural for an adolescent living in a broken world.

If we cannot get past, or more properly ingest, Dan Dunne’s drug addiction, then we should just turn the DVD player off.  There is certainly the danger in this movie that we can too easily write off its relevance—“How awful that a drug addict is teaching in a middle school.  If there is such a situation out there, that teacher should be fired, end of story.”  But Gosling’s Dan Dunne is difficult to simply ignore.  He is a formerly idealistic (if increasingly cynical) urban educator with a caring heart desperately trying to continue on in the face of a barely functioning private and professional life.  He is, I would submit, very human.  But because of the brokenness in his life, his good intentions become unhealthily manifest.  This is a danger that threatens all of us, if we are not sufficiently mindful.

It is thus that Mr. Dunne begins to form a friendship with Drey, one of his middle school students.  It is one of the triumphs of Half Nelson, and Shareeka Epps, that the character Drey, which could so easily devolve into cliché and caricature, lives on the screen as powerfully real.  Drey faces the all-too-familiar psycho-developmental obstacles—an absentee father; an overworked mother; an older brother in jail; and a drug dealer offering to become family.  The ongoing absurd paradox of the movie is the battle between the drug addicted teacher and the drug dealer (Anthony Mackie) to fill the void of father figure/brother figure in Drey’s life.  The script is wonderfully woven with deft subtlety around this theme.  It reveals a basic goodness in both potential mentors, while making it clear that Drey will follow a path of tribulations no matter which she chooses. 

The development of the relationship between Drey and “Coach Dunne,” (He also serves as Drey’s basketball coach) is particularly perspicacious.  It reveals not only that contemporary educators are often called to fill the pschyo-social needs in the lives of their students, but poignantly grants an informative whiff of the extreme dangers of transference and counter-transference based upon over-attachment between student and teacher.  Although no improper physical sexuality occurs between Coach and Drey, it is clear that boundaries are crossed as Coach cannot face his loneliness and Drey unconsciously reveals the intense vulnerability of adolescence facing sexual discovery.  In one scene, Drey is visiting the apartment of her teacher while helping him prepare for the evening’s date with another teacher.  With obvious sexual overtones and imagery, Drey is asked to kneed the tomatoes with bare hands for the pasta sauce and offers jokes to be used during the date.  In one important sense, Half Nelson can be seen as an important reminder for educators to be mindful of their own personal issues so that appropriate boundaries with students remain clear.

Perhaps the most powerful scene in the film occurs when Dan Dunne visits his suburban family.  The painful brokenness in their lives is as every bit apparent, with as much desperate but futile attempt at palliation by chemical substance and deleterious distraction, as it is in the lives of Dunne’s students in the city.  In spite of his ex-hippy history, Dunne’s father offers a pathetic attempt to distinguish and distance himself from the “urban jungle.”  With a drunken slur he attempts a moment of father-son bonding doomed from the beginning because of the unwillingness to face emotional reality: “Teach me some Eubonics . . .” He says to his son.   “Is that what they got you teaching in that zoo?”  In this dysfunctional family reunion it becomes not only evident where lies the origin of Dunne’s proclivity for idealism and substance abuse, but it also is shown to us the uselessness of creating disconnection within culture that is shared across any feigned boundaries we attempt to create.

In the penultimate scene, Drey visits Dunne in the seventh circle of hell, as she walks in on his involvement in an orgiastic crack-addicted party.  In a sense, Drey is the only possible hero of this story, perhaps making the point without triteness that our youth are our only hope.   Because Drey looks into the eyes of Dunne’s depravity and self-loathing, and does not flinch.  She is there the next morning, as he makes an attempt to clean up and make another try at life.  Half Nelson is simply gorgeous, however, in its unwillingness to offer false hope.  In many ways, false hope is much more dangerous than hopelessness can ever be.  So, in the final scene, there is no way the viewer can say:  “Well now, everything will be all right.”  We know that Dan Dunne is still a crack addict.  We know that Drey’s only other male role model and protector is a drug dealer.  And, we can be fairly sure that were the sequel to be made in a few years, Drey will most likely be even more entrenched in a web of difficult life situations.  But Half Nelson also forces us to confront the fact that real hope can only come with radical individual and cultural transformation both in cities, the suburbs and beyond.  Half Nelson asks us to eschew outward judgment and focus on inward introspection.  It forces us to confront the fact that until adults are willing embark upon a painful path of the openness which leads to growth, our youth will not have the opportunity to grow, heal, and fully manifest the greatness which lies within their being.

From, The Decree, Volume I, Issue 2  

Craig Livermore

Executive Director, NJ LEEP, Inc.

Perhaps it is a good thing to be perpetually dissatisfied. Perhaps it is of benefit to be as Neo in The Matrix—living with a constant thorn in one’s heart because one knows that the world that we see–is not the world that should be. And one knows as Neo did that there was never really any choice. One is impelled to take the red pill to unveil the falsity, and to allow for the creation of a new reality.

And so as NJ LEEP has made a successful start, it somehow does not feel sufficient. As we have interviewed 130 eighth grade students from Newark, East Orange and Jersey City for our Summer Law Institute and After-School program, it gnaws at us that we can only take thirty students as our first freshman class this year. And so we must find a way to raise money to double the size of our in-coming class in 2008. And in spite of the very positive response we have received from students, parents, teachers, guidance counselors, and administrators, we have also met myriads of students who have already given up on the dream by the eighth and ninth grades when we first meet them. And so we will be speaking with other educational organizations, brainstorming and planning, to see if we in some manner can extend our services back to the seventh and eighth grade so we can reach a much greater number of students at an earlier level of adolescent development.

Because I am kept up at night with thoughts of the depression and angst faced by my former students in Brooklyn, which we are also seeing in the faces of students here in urban New Jersey as the tears well up in the eyes of the 13-year-olds we are interviewing. As I make a futile quest to grasp an ever-elusive peace because of the internal demons such students are facing arising from external circumstance, I somehow know that such restlessness is really a blessing. For the mission of urban education is not only about who will have access to money, power and privilege in 20 years—it is at a much deeper level of reality about the deep psychological pain born of dreams deferred, dreams confused, dreams unstructured, and dreams un-nurtured.

Yet, we must at the same time honor the blessings. For example, NJ LEEP has trained nine wonderful Seton Hall Law students who are teaching “An Introduction to Constitutional Rights” in public high schools and middle schools. These law students are manifesting deft and powerful teaching technique after only twelve hours of training and have jumped with whole-hearted commitment into the fray. We also have met and are working with numerous passionate and committed teachers and administrators in the public schools with which we are partnering. And our work truly cannot be done without them.

So perhaps the answer is to recognize the blessings, but to never become complacent. NJ LEEP has on its office wall a print by Romare Beardon. The print is of a painting created in 1984 to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Brown v. Board of Education. The painting features a black girl and a black boy, both reading a book. The caption reads in large letters: “The Politics of Excellence.” I ask all of you to meditate upon this caption with NJ LEEP. For if complacency and fear are the enemies inside all of us, then it is the politics of excellence which will overcome these enemies.

 From The Decree, Volume I, Issue I

Craig Livermore

Executive Director, NJ LEEP, Inc.

There is much to be done. The NJ LEEP mission has received a great deal of support thus far from the legal, academic, educational and political arenas in New Jersey. We are extremely grateful for this. Students, families and educational leaders in East Orange, Jersey City and Newark have also exhibited a great deal of enthusiasm for our programming. This reveals the desire of all these constituents for empowering educational opportunity. The response we have so far received has been very encouraging.

We are training ten committed law students to teach a law-related curriculum in five schools in Newark and East Orange beginning in February, and there are many more schools who wish to partner with us. By mid-February the NJ LEEP staff will have guest-taught a legal lesson to 1000 students in twenty different schools to recruit for our Summer Law Institute 2007. We will receive 500 pre-applications and 200 written applications for the thirty positions in our first Summer Law Institute class.

Yes—we have indeed been blessed by the communal show of support. But we also know that initial enthusiasm does not necessarily translate into the long-term objectively verifiable results that are the core of our mission. We must thus now commit ourselves to the every-day work which is the basis for all transformative education.

We believe there is a moral imperative for our society to face the glaring inequalities in educational outcomes between urban youth and those in private and suburban public schools. We are emboldened in this belief by the fact that many of you have voiced as similar commitment. NJ LEEP believes itself to be a part of a much larger movement of high quality urban educational outcomes based upon a multi-dimensional pedagogical model and a commitment to help student build the skills, habits and character they need to succeed.

I recently attended a constitutional law debate at Brooklyn Law School in which my former high school students at Legal Outreach made appellate-style arguments in front of practicing attorneys based upon the Voting Rights Act of 1965. The chills were palpable throughout my body as 15 and 16 year old kids from the “hood” made perspicacious and quick-reasoned arguments in a very complicated area of law which had all of us attorneys present working hard to keep up. That is power!. . .That is the ability to change one’s life and to change the world. Analytical ability, persuasive writing and persuasive speech will grant these students access to the channels of leadership which will bring new voices to the our nation’s pipeline of leadership.

This is the challenge and possibility ahead of us. We ask you all–we need you all–to join us in this mission. There is a great deal of power lying dormant in the urban youth of New Jersey. With your help, we can teach students in Newark, East Orange, Jersey City, and beyond how to access the transformative power that has always been within them.