You may recall that last summer I became employed by DC's largest charter school organization, and was quickly revolted by its culture of musical chairs and roleplaying in lieu of preparing for the school year . I threw in the towel only hours before the school year began after realizing that despite their jingoistic culture of excellence this was not a place where I was going to thrive. At the time I wondered if it was possible for a school to climb from the gutter (27% of students proficient in reading/math) to a higher level of gutter (55%-the No Child Left Behind requirement for this school not to be failing) with a staff comprised primarily of idealistic recent college grads who had no background or training in teaching, much less teaching in Ward 8, one of the hoodiest corners of the Hood. I was confident that had I stayed I would have been fine having received my inoculation against poverty spawned misery and low achievement during three years on the edge of the Trinidad neighborhood. My faith did not extend to these 22 year old upper class kids who thought they would make a difference.
The problem was compounded by an administration that talked tough about meeting those numbers-or else, but required us to spend the two weeks before school began in workshops put on by a group called the Center For Inspired Teaching. These workshops required dancing around, role playing, the aforementioned musical chairs, and even games where one had to interpret stories using only toes or elbows. Remember, a good portion of the staff had no teaching experience and this was how they were being prepped for the first day. Being a teacher means putting up with a lot of inanity (if you recognize it for what it is), but this was a level I was not comfortable with, so I took flight. Despite actually desiring to return to my teaching roots in the black community where I had always felt safe, well-regarded, and useful (unlike in Loudoun County upper-class adjustable rate mortgage schools), I left. It's a bridge I burned so well it can never be rebuilt. There is no passage back to Anacostia now for this aging burnout who still recalls the passion he had when he was in those neighborhoods where something as simple as good morning or a juice box could keep a kid going who had nothing.
So, why am I recalling all this for you, dear readers, who have been left with little to go on here at the Camel as it suffers its summer lull? Well, a couple weeks ago, the DC standardized test scores for spring 2008 came back. The results for DCPS were much better than in previous years. My old haunt Miner put up the best numbers I think it has ever had. Unfortunately, my worst fears about the charter which shall remain unnamed came true. Recall from above the school needed a 55% proficiency level to be on target with NCLB. Well, they did improve. By 5%. Yes, only 32% of the kids met the bare minimum standard of proficiency. By DC standards these numbers are not horrible, and having been there myself back in the day, I can tell you that 32% can be quite an achievement when teachers spend time breaking up fights, feeding their charges, or taking a poorly dressed kid to the mall to get a belt so his pants don't fall down. However; 32% is not what they were promising when I was there. It was relayed to us in no uncertain terms that this group of rookie teachers was somehow going to do what experienced people had failed to do before. I knew that greeting people with eyebrows and building human sculptures representing concepts like "pride" was not going to teach kids how to read. I left. It didn't work. The kids deserved better. From me, and from this school their parents had "chosen" in the free marketplace of education that is DC. Had they attended their neighborhood school they could have failed just as well. There was no need to take them away from the system at a time when it seems to be really improving under the new chancellor.
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