Education Pioneers Fellowship Experience

On the first day of work, I was given a project for the summer:

Create a process manual for centralized enrollment within the Early Education department (EED) in the San Francisco Unified School District.

I executed my project through the following steps.

Step 1: Understand the project.

Currently, EED enrollment is done at the school site level. The department wanted to transition enrollments into the central office. Doing so would help the central office to better understand its Early Education students, and it would free up valuable time for school site administrators.

I also had to understand my deliverable. What is a process manual? A step-by-step guide of a process, I soon learned – in this case, the process for central enrollment. It would be used to train the EED central office enrollment clerks.

Step 2: Understand the current process.

First, I had to understand how enrollments work today. For the first two weeks of my internship, I conducted interviews with a number of staff members, from site managers to IT. I found out that Early Education enrollment was much more complicated than I had thought.

Step 3: Create a vision for the centralized process.

I had to define how the enrollment process would look in the central office before I could create a process manual. I identified inefficiencies in the current process and kept the end goals of the project in mind to come up with this vision. When I came up with something I thought would work, I put it into a presentation. I solicited feedback first from my fellow Ed Pioneers intern, and then from my supervisors.

Step 4: Create a process manual.

Now that I had an understanding of what the process would look like, I could create the manual. As I created it, I realized that there were a number of holes in it. For example, what IT system would the central office clerks use? What tools would they use to answer questions from parents? What communication system would they use to communicate with school sites?

Step 5: Create an implementation plan.

An implementation plan was not my original deliverable, but it followed naturally from my process manual. In order for the centralized enrollment to happen, the “holes” in the process manual had to be filled. I wrote down the steps needed to roll out the process and identified the responsible people. I also created a proposal to phase in the process over time.

My project was an eye-opening experience for me. Through my efforts to centralize EED enrollment, I now have a much better understanding of the district’s operations.

I mentioned in my first post that CPS was beginning to go through an immense restructuring process. Over the last few weeks those changes have started to be implemented.  The tension leading up to the announcement was clear throughout the parts of CPS I connect with on a regular basis. The Area teams (now Networks) were aware the changes would likely impact them immediately, LSC representatives would be impacted by whatever changes happened to the Area teams, and central staff knew that the organizational structure of the central office was going to drastically change. In addition to the structural changes that were coming, tension over the new budget was also prevalent—what would be cut and what would be saved. With a budget shortfall of nearly $712 million and all of the 55,000 neighborhood high school students and over 100,000 elementary students in underperforming schools—something had to change.

So here’s what happened.

CPS announced they will drive change through five levers:

1. High Performing Schools
2. Effective, Supported Teachers
3. Empowered, Accountable Principals
4. Active partnership with parents & communities
5. Full Organization Support

Part of my work this summer was developing a leadership development program within  Area 4. It was exciting to see the district look to build a pipeline of great principals on a larger scale. I do believe that  the Networks (formerly Area’s) development programs with District wide efforts will produce a more robust pool of talented leaders.

CPS also announced a new budget proposal .The budget makes several difficult cuts, but CPS stated they made every effort to make those cuts as far away from the kids in the classroom. CEO Jean-Claude Brizard emailed CPS staff to say:

“This is a budget that I can proudly say will protect our priorities, make new investments in students, cut waste and inefficiencies, help support our school leaders and close the significant budget deficit facing our district.”

On top of all these changes, school started on Monday (8/8) for many students. With all of the changes happening as students come back, everyone at CPS will have to maintain laser like focus to get everything accomplished. That focus will need to be maintained in perpetuity to change the current  <55% graduation rate.

What attracted me to politics was the notion of being a part of something bigger than myself. I was driven by that working on campaigns, driven by that working on Capitol Hill, but when it came to education (big picture) I was at a lost of how it all fit. Perhaps that I was because I was lost at how I fit in the education space not being a teacher or a school leader or parent. There has been some growth.

Over eight weeks ago, the NYC Department of Education’s Charter Schools Office asked me to help them analyze the system need and capacity for new charter school development. From that I have since also developed a targeted national marketing strategy to enable them to recruit more high-quality, high-performing charter management organizations and stand alone charters to locate in the city. I honestly did not begin to understand the depth of my work until I looked at the data.

I analyzed growth, application, waitlist, and admittance data for the past five years looking citywide, by school and by neighborhood. There has been a 78 percent increase in number of charter school applications, but at the same there has been a decrease in the admittance percentage — we are now down to 11 percent. Yes, you read that right, only 11 percent of students who apply will be accepted to a charter school in New York City! It’s kind of crazy to think that it is harder to get into a K-5 charter school than it is to get into some of the Ivy League colleges and universities. For the 2011-12 school year alone, there were 114,932 applications for 12,917 seats. The number of applicants exceed the number of seats available in every borough. So I can only laugh now when people say, ‘No one wants charter schools in New York City’ because the data tells a very different story — for New York City. I need to add that caveat because New York City is very unique place and what works here, by no means will work across the country.

Having lived in the South, I very much understand residential segregation. Where I went to high school in Columbus, GA, there was literally a color line in the city that could greatly effect the educational outcomes for students. If you live below Macon Rd (Exit 6 off I-185), you are more likely to go to a Title I school, you are more likely to have novice teachers, you are more likely not to be scored proficient or advanced on state Math or English Language Arts exams, you are more likely not to graduate from high school, and more startling, it is possible for you to go through K-12 never being in class with a white student. If you live above Macon Rd, you have the opposite outcomes. However, I would argue that the transition to a reasonable house or apartment above Macon Rd would not necessarily put a family in the poor house. Whereas in New York City, moving into a community school district that has high quality traditional public schools could be the cost of a $3.5 million condo on the Upper West Side. Class stratification is intertwined in the very culture of this city, and its front and center in the education space. Charter schools have by no means been the “silver bullet,” but they are helping with the equity issues.

In my task this summer of looking very critically at how the district can work to try to meet charter school demand, I had the opportunity to look across the country and look for the best of the best that were not in New York City. There is so much innovation that is going on across the country, and its quite inspiring. What I was surprised to find was that some of the charter schools that have received acclaimed national attention for great graduation rates — when I looked at their state test scores and data, it told a very different story. Now I am not this huge advocate for high-stakes testing, but in terms of looking for evidence of success, it was something I took very seriously. Yes, I can applaud the achievement of getting a kid into college, but then the more important achievement is were they college-ready? I was looking for power charters. Arizona, Texas, California, Colorado, Florida, Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, New Mexico….I looked everywhere. I ended up narrowing my list down to 20 power charters I thought NYC should be looking at. I also designed an 8-page marketing brochure and a 1-pager on why these organizations should expand to New York City.

Two weeks ago, about an hour before I was to give my presentation on my findings and strategy to the Executive Director and Chief of Staff of my office, the Deputy Chancellor for my division sent an email asking some very interesting questions. Who are the best charters that are not in NYC? And what would it take for us to get them here? CRAZY good timing! My bosses where extremely impressed with my work and ready to move things up the chain of command. In my perfect world, if at least two of the top nine power charters I identified chose to locate in NYC, I would consider that a success. I hope that I can stay involved and see this through.

I am finally starting to see where I can fit in education reform not being a teacher or school leader or parent for that matter. The politics of education (national, state, and local level) is a bloodsport, and there are not many skilled players who understand the politics on the side of the good guys. Access to opportunity is a daily experience and I think I understand the politics and the stakes enough to effectively advocate for that. Back to the idea of looking to be apart of something bigger than myself, it has hit me very forcefully over the last few weeks as I have worked on this project, visited schools, and actually sat in on a couple of classes… This–our work in education reform or the education sector in general–is bigger than you and me. This is about kids you don’t even know getting to their fullest potential. And that’s powerful!

I’ll admit it, I’m not a business minded person and I don’t have a background in economics. In college, the closest I came to the business school on my campus was using the side stairs to cut to my dorm. I have a decent grasp on basic concepts in both, but that was never my element. So when our EP staff told us we would be having a workshop on school decisions around finances at Boston Public Schools (BPS) for the day, I was interested but not nearly as eager as others in my cohort who had been anticipating this topic. I was really just looking forward to getting the school district perspective in light of my placement at the state. Truthfully, I only had a few questions on school budgets. Yet by the time we made it to our first break after guest speakers, I had at least three slightly illegible pages of questions and thoughts in my notebook.

Our first set of speakers included the CFO and Deputy CFO of Boston Public Schools. They spent the morning sharing that the district was about to shift to a weighted student funding model as of this coming academic year. Essentially, money allotted per student is now need based and built on a system that directs more funds towards students who may be low income, an English Language Learner, or in Special Education. The goal is to provide equitable distribution among schools so that they can adequately meet the needs of their student population. So here it was, 9 am on a Friday morning and I had some key players behind this new model sitting in front of me asking our cohort to push their thinking and challenge their system. We were told, “This is as much for you as it is for us.” With 44 deeply invested minds in the room, the Q&A session at the end of their presentation was an experience that will remain permanently etched into my brain. I’ve always understood there was an overlap between my policy background and their work around budgets, but this experience was inviting everyone to the table to dissect something that will be impacting 130+ schools. What could work? What might not? How is this system really going to affect Boston’s students during this first year? This day hadn’t started out as being a part of “my element” but the concrete line that I’d always dawn between business, finance, and policy was long gone. The picture I had initially started with looked very different now.

The next panel had directors from enrollment, strategic planning, and the Assistant Superintendent for Special Education. Those who know me well nodded or smiled at me as we settled in because this was group of people who I’d been waiting weeks to finally have in a room. My background is in Special Education and English Language Learners so I’ve always been drawn conversations around these students. Little by little, some of the gaps between decision making, funding, and operations were finally being filled in for me. By the time we broke for lunch, we’d heard from incredibly influential people at BPS. The day continued with a visit from Scott Morgan, the founder and CEO of Education Pioneers and kept going with three leaders from significantly diverse schools in the Boston area. Glancing at my notebook after their panel, I realized that the stream of thoughts I had jotted down would definitely need some reorganization later on.

After all of it, I had to consider that the knowledge and ideas that I was walking away with were just as much from our guest speakers as they were from my cohort. Different backgrounds have a unique way of framing a question or thinking about something. As leaders engaged in active education reform, this type of conversation naturally lends itself to something we may not have originally considered. One of the best parts about this fellowship experience is that I don’t have to sit at the table with a specific business, law, policy, or economics lens because it all has to work together to develop great schools, support quality leaders, and create genuine progress. It all depends on our collaboration and willingness to invite others into the room for conversation – maybe not just cutting through the side stairs.

We are five weeks in, half-way through the EP experience. Knee deep in our projects and sites, many of us have not had, nor made, time to get to know our cohort members well. This may be especially relevant for a large cohort of 50, like DC. I was guilty of being too busy to be present outside of workshops until Friday after our Human Capital workshop. The discussion ending our Human Capital workshop was rich. Led by Valerie Evans, we entered into a new level of group cohesion (I’m a psychologist in training, so my references often relate to my field). Someone took a risk and was vulnerable with the cohort about her insecurity in education reform work, which was tied to her lack of classroom experience. That opened up dialogue where we processed the benefits of various perspectives in this work, while we also noted the limitations of all involved (educators and law, policy , and business people). Some people felt that there was a need to have an education background, and others disagreed, but we did so in a way that brought us a bit closer. So, after that session, I had an opportunity to further engage this discussion with a few cohort members at Jazz in the Park.

In EP, there is another way to look at Human Capital. We are human capital to each other. The value of conversing with cohort members outside of our formal setting brought me out of my work-focused isolation. I got to know an EP staff member and two other cohort members a bit better, and the conversation was the kind that can only be had when one feels safe. We talked about a little bit of everything, but my take away was that the value in our human capital is that we can capitalize on our experiences to be of service to this reform movement. My experience as a Black woman born to working class parents in a small rural town who is transitioning class as I obtain higher levels of education is somewhat unique and very valuable to our conversations. Sometimes I struggle with how much of that I should share, because I don’t know how others outside of that experience will perceive me. But after talking with my cohort members, I realize the importance of speaking from my worldview.

This weekend restored my courage to engage in the difficult conversations and to challenge those who intend to be helpful, but lack insight into the realities of rural and urban students. I look forward to spending more time cultivating these relationship and engaging in the type of sharing that will greatly impact the way we think about the systems we intend to influence, and what our contributions might be.

If I’ve never experienced being a low-income child in public school, can I make change in that setting?

I’ve struggled with this question since I started thinking about working in education. I attended public school in a New Jersey suburb, a relatively well-off community. My parents are immigrants who always stressed the importance of education. But now, as an intern in the San Francisco Unified School District, I constantly think about the struggles of low-income families. Can I help when I can’t relate?

I’ve found that though I can’t relate, I can listen. I can ask others about their stories, and learn from people who can relate. In this regard, Ed Pioneers has been invaluable. EP offers an environment that not only encourages stories, but actively solicits them.

We recently had an EP workshop called “Opportunity Gap.” The workshop took place in Bayview, a community that has a large low-income minority population.

In an activity involving talking to Bayview youth, we met Belinda. Belinda grew up in a large family and took care of her siblings from a young age. Her high school was supportive to students, but only those who were on track to college. In the parent-teacher meeting she remembered, the school threatened to kick her out if she didn’t improve. Now, after leaving a couple of high schools, she is getting her undergraduate degree and hopes to be an educator herself.

“Why be an educator after all your struggles in school?” we asked her. She told us that she hopes to be able to help others like herself.

Later we did a school choice simulation, where we put ourselves in the shoes of Bayview parents deciding what school to send their children to. Most of us decided to put our children in local Bayview schools. We didn’t have a car to pick our children up from other neighborhoods, we rationalized, and we couldn’t just put our child on a bus by himself.

But one woman in our cohort disagreed. Her parents had sent her to a school outside her neighborhood in Philadelphia so she could get a better education. She took the bus by herself every day to her school. If it meant a better education, she said, she would rather put her kid on a bus.

At the end of the day, we heard from Bayview parents. One parent, Pecolia, described her own childhood. For a couple of years in middle school, she was homeless and couldn’t go to school. Every day she went to the library to learn on her own, until she finally fought her way back to school. Now, she is extremely active in engaging youths in the community to fight for themselves.

Through these stories, I put faces to what I’d only read or theorized about previously. I heard about experiences that never made it to newspaper articles. I ended the day with a more nuanced perspective of the issues I’d thought I understood. And I also realized that my story, too, is important to share. My story can help to widen others’ perspectives, just as theirs have widened mine.

What would you do if you were the parent of a DC student and also a leader in Education Reform? Where would your child attend school? These questions and more served as the basis of our workshop on the Opportunity Gap. It was rich with varying perspectives, some which challenged me to review my own. The most poignant activity required us to have a list of seven schools from which to choose and a profile of our imaginary child. After we numbered the choices in order of our preferences, we went through a mock lottery. This was a reality check for many of us, especially those who did not receive their first or second choices. A number of questions sat with me, and still do. Who is responsible for closing the Opportunity Gap? And, where do you send your child to school if you work toward education reform in DC?

My child’s profile said that he was dyslexic, had an IEP, had low grades, and low test scores. Having this profile was difficult for me. Here I am, a hard working, high performing, intelligent, creative, Black woman, and trying to reconcile how my child would not be similar proved challenging. I wondered what type of school my child could get into, certainly not the top-tier school without having to pull some serious strings. It pained me because that is what I would want for my child. The BEST education, something I didn’t receive K-12. We fellows talked about best fit and school choice, but the nagging feeling in my gut said, “only the best for my child.”

After I got over the initial feelings surrounding the profile of my imaginary child, I went to work. I began to research dyslexia, determine what type of services his school would need to offer to best help him reach his fullest potential, and I looked into our choices for schools. I chose a school with a strong reputation for diversity and a fair testing record, but I didn’t get my first choice based on the lottery. Choice number two was a pretty good fit too, so I was satisfied, but had I been forced to go to the neighborhood school, I would have chosen homeschooling. If I was an average DC parent, maybe I wouldn’t have had that option. Something to consider.

So here is my controversial take. Even as an active participant in education reform, my child would not go to the local public school unless it was phenomenal. I don’t intend to prepare my child for proficiency and an average life. I want my child to have a dynamic educational experience and exposure to activities, courses, and people that will prepare him/her for an exceptional life. While I was able to do very well as a product of public schools, some good, some bad, I realize that in many ways I was an exception. In second grade, one of my teachers suspected I might be gifted, asked that I be tested, and my course was tracked after that. That isn’t the case for most children, and is even less the case for most children of color. I want a school where the success rates of college admission are undisputed and the expectation is excellence. The coursework should be well-rounded and challenging, the teachers should be experts, and the student body should be diverse and talented. I think every school should look like that, and I question who’s responsibility it is for that to happen.

Oddly, I don’t place much responsibility on the schools. If my child comes to school lacking and behind, that is my fault. If there is something that my child is studying that I don’t understand and cannot help with, I need to learn or find someone who knows. If my child’s school is not serving him well, I need to be in there everyday until it is. The argument is that maybe certain parents are not equipped, as I am, to do those things for their children. I argue that they are equipped, but perhaps not empowered. School reform is the responsibility of the community in which that schools resides. Yes, states should provide the resources, but outside of that, the parents and local members of the community have to choose to intervene and take action to improve for their kids. They need to know what they deserve and work for it.

As it relates to the opportunity gap, I think we need to require and allow communities and schools in the lowest performing areas to determine their standards of achievement and the markers. There needs to be a higher degree of ownership around what it means to be successful for people of color, and it no longer should be compared to the success rates of White people. Maybe, if communities of color set the bar for themselves and determine the metrics, then they become accountable to themselves. Perhaps that will encourage and empower us to commit to academic achievement in a way that makes sense to our community.

I understand the various sides of the arguments, and I agree that schools and districts have responsibilities as well, but the community can be the catalyst if they are empowered. I think that is what my place will be in this reform movement.