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Insulting, disparaging letters about not reporting the charter school story--- written by me to:
gbailon, editor of pd--(4)
dhunn pd--(1)
Giegerich pd---(1)
kristen hinman rft---(1)
antonio french pubdef---(1)
eric mink pd---(3)
just in the last few days, but----------------------------------------------------------------HA!!!!
CHANEL FIVE BROKE THE SILENCE!! (but hunn's pd article gives 10 times the information.
gbailon, editor of pd--(4)
dhunn pd--(1)
Giegerich pd---(1)
kristen hinman rft---(1)
antonio french pubdef---(1)
eric mink pd---(3)
just in the last few days, but----------------------------------------------------------------HA!!!!
CHANEL FIVE BROKE THE SILENCE!! (but hunn's pd article gives 10 times the information.
| Can! Academies can't make a go of it here By David Hunn 05/22/2008ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
ST. LOUIS — Students played cards in class one day this week, as they do most days now. Others watched movies or milled about in the halls, loud and aimless. The teacher sat at his desk, filling out job applications. The Can! Academies of St. Louis, a charter school for high school dropouts, started this past fall on Goodfellow Boulevard, just south of Interstate 70. Today, the state school board is expected to vote to close it, at least for one year. Its failure has led critics to again question Missouri's growing but still controversial charter school movement. Can is one of the first charters to open after a request from the office of Mayor Francis Slay, who is championing the schools as alternatives to a troubled city school system. It is also the first charter directly under the wing of the state department of education. But state and city officials say its fall is an isolated situation. They attribute it mostly to unprepared leaders and underestimated challenges — two-thirds of the students arrived with third-grade reading levels, or worse. They say Can's end, while difficult, is an example of a benefit of charter schools: Those that fail can be closed. "I think as the sponsoring institution, we're doing the right thing," said Jocelyn Strand, state director of charter schools. "They're not meeting our criteria and our expectations." But the school's leaders say Can was doomed to fail from the start. They say they never got the support they needed from their central office, in Dallas, and that they were denied the basics: tardy bells, intercom systems, computerized attendance logs, even textbooks. They warned everyone of the troubles, they said, but were given little lasting aid. "It's been really, really hard," said academy principal Vinikka McCoy, in her first year as an administrator. "My husband says all the time, 'They sold you a dream.'" McCoy's bosses in Texas told her not to talk about the problems, she said. And they told her not to let other staffers speak publicly. But McCoy is leaving, as is everyone still here, including the only teacher who stuck with the school from the beginning. Staffers are so angry, they want people to know the truth: Fights roil the campus weekly, gang signs cover the bathrooms, classrooms are unproductive, and both students and teachers are left adrift, uncertain when they lose their school and their jobs. Teachers, administrators, parents and students all spoke of specific problems: — Administrators constantly changed student schedules. At the start of the year, students had regular classes. Now they have study hall all day. — Can's payroll department didn't withhold retirement from teacher paychecks until recently. It is unclear what will happen with those staffers already gone. — Attendance was taken by hand each day; leaders couldn't say exactly how many students went in and out of the school. They estimate 530, but, for periods, data entry was months behind. — The school couldn't keep teachers in classrooms or students enrolled. Roughly two dozen teachers quit or left over the year. There are now just seven teachers and only about 118 students who come with any consistency — maybe half that attend daily. — School disorganization now threatens college applications. "They're never able to give you any straight answer when it comes to records," said Shelly Davis, mother of student Jur'nell Davis. "Nobody has his test scores. All they're telling us is he passed." Can Superintendent Yolanda Cruz, based in Texas, referred questions to the nonprofit group's vice president of communications, Cheryl Rios. Rios said she would only answer questions via e-mail, and sent a three-paragraph statement from Can's president, Richard Marquez. In the statement, Marquez said the Can model is proven, but "it was still a Texas program trying to fit in a Missouri model." "That doesn't mean it can't succeed," he said. "It just means that time is needed to take what was learned and come back with a system to serve these kids the best way possible." Indeed, Can's 10 Texas schools are well-known for taking at-risk students and getting them high school diplomas. Strand said it's clear now that the school opened here too quickly, that the administrators hired were too inexperienced, and that management gave too little support, especially with students who needed so much help. This spring, Marquez apologized to state and city officials. Today, Strand will recommend the state board suspend Can for a year, and give the organization an opportunity to hire new staff and retool the model. If successful, it could reopen in the fall of 2009. Still, Strand said, this year is not lost. As many as 50 of the 530 students who went through the St. Louis program will have passed their GED tests by the end of the year. Through a Missouri conversion program, they could receive their high school diplomas. "These are kids who were already out," Strand said. "So the fact they're back in is huge." But students were left either angry or confused this week. Tuesday, as some played spades and others watched movies, Rayford Marion put his head down in a quiet class next door. Marion, 17, passed the GED in May. He's working at a fast-food shop in the evenings. But the school says he needs more hours in class in order to get his diploma. So he comes to school before work, just to sit there. Still, he's worried about the teens next door. "They think tomorrow when they take the GED, they gonna pass," he said. "But they not doing nothing to help themselves." "They don't understand," he continued. "Sometimes, there is no third chance." |
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