The Second Line Blog




Aaron Sandnes for #ManifestJustice #educationjustice

The Real Work of Education Reform

This Mother’s Day weekend I thought so much about Samaria Rice, a mother whose mother’s days will never be the same again.  A mother who has had to deal wtih a living nightmare. That which I still cannot bring myself to watch; that which still even as I write makes my eyeballs spontaneously spout and my heart clench.

What were her dreams and hopes for her child? What were her fears for him? I imagine that they are the same as mine for my twelve year old. A life filled with happiness, success, peace. And fears of racist systems getting in the way of genius flourishing.
In his opinion piece, The Real Problem with America’s Inner Cities, in Sunday’s NY Times, Orlando Patterson gives a quick and clear historical thought map to this point: not all inner city black youth are criminals, and more needs to be done to address the needs of the poor and vulnerable.
I agree with the overall recommendations Patterson makes about how to remedy the real problem of the inner cities: increase successful charter school programs, more funding for head-starts, provide pre-natal support, reduce environmental toxicity, increase life-skills and career training to name a few. Yet I would make the following fundamental modification: the goal of all of these well-meaning programs absolutely needs to shift from an incremental betterment of conditions to a dismantling of the social, political and economic institutions and conditions that create the need for the repair in the first place. Unless we decidedly, pointedly and unabashedly repeat in every organizational mission statement and action plan that we are about the business of dismantling institutional racism and systemic poverty, we will only be tinkering around the sidelines of change. We won’t be dealing directly with the complex intersections of the systems that together create a tangled, intentional web of disadvantage which is the big beast. This includes housing, food, transportation, policing, school reform, philanthropy, social services, mental health, health care, etc.
Am I saying that we each need to do it all? Certainly not. Is it mission creep? Certainly not. But we do need to articulate this frame, and we do most certainly need to be methodical. When we punch in every day to do the work in education reform, let’s make sure we are punching the clock for bringing down the big beast, in addition to, or better yet, as the larger context for our own organization’s missions. This perspective on what the work actually is can transform how we work, making us more effective in creating lasting, sustainable, substantive transformation. Not tinkering with a new small school design and leaving poverty intact. Not tinkering with common core aligned curriculum and leaving poverty intact. Not tinkering with college access and leaving poverty intact.
At the end of what is a compelling piece, he slips in that by reducing the number of single mothers we might reduce a number of negative social and economic factors, namely the lure of gang membership for young men and boys.
Now this really burns my toast. If I didn’t know Dr. Patterson’s work a bit beyond this opinion piece, I’d think he was blaming the mothers (blasphemy…on Mother’s Day no less!) of the ~20% of inner city black and brown youth that are disengaged from formal schooling, and potentially engaged in criminal activity for those outcomes. He certainly goes far beyond that and contextualizes in other works, saying that youth of color growing up in poverty with single moms need more parenting time, modeling, positive social engagement, access to social capital. The single mom is often working two (or more) jobs and not earning a living wage, which creates holes in the fabric of the social, economic, and cultural sling in which moms nurture their babies of every age.
My conclusion here, on the contrary to Patterson’s, is not that single motherhood is a problem, but rather that mothers not earning a living wage is a problem. $15/hr should be the federal minimum wage and if we say we are about ed reform, then we have to be about that also. Every employer that works on behalf of kids should examine how they could be impacting the socioeconomic situation of the families they serve by stating a target, a metric by which they hold themselves accountable and determine organizational success that is directly tied to the extent to which they hire, train, develop, sustain parents of the young people they serve, and obviously pay (at the very least) a living wage. By engaging in policy development around hiring, purchasing, contracting, that directly supports the families we serve, we begin to attack the big beast while doing our daily work. Ed focused non-profits, CMOs, and edventures need to be on the hook for economic development of the communities we serve.  Lest we tinker.
When we reframe the real work of education reform in the context of the eradication of poverty, we can more clearly see what is needed. Mothers need jobs that pay right, school systems and well-meaning ed focused non-profits that respect their families and communities, police organizations that do right by the humanity of their children. I, too, will take that instead of a card on Mother’s Day and any day.

ULEAD the pack in developing leadership among black ed reformers

Black students and families are the main consumers of public charter schools in New Orleans and have been most vocal about the lack of diversity in the teaching staff and school leadership as well as a lack of local control over the city’s schools. Many are asking what is being done to diversify school leadership in the city?

The Cowen Institute released a brief on charter management organizations (CMO) in New Orleans last month detailing their growth since 2005 and explaining its impact on the education environment. Since 2006, the total percentage of students in New Orleans who attend CMO-affiliated schools has increased from 25% to almost 60%. While the majority of CMOs have done a good job of recruiting people of color to fill the roles of principal and head of school, the fact remains that individuals in executive level roles who are responsible for both the vision and strategic direction of CMOs are majority white and non-native.

Massive amounts of public and private funds are assigned to run and support schools and education reform efforts in New Orleans, however, very little is invested in building a pipeline of leadership that reflects the city’s student body. If human capital is truly a hallmark of education reform, then CMOs must commit themselves to recruiting and developing Black and native talent at the executive and board level. This represents an opportunity to build equity into schools from the ground up. Strategic efforts such as the ULEAD Fellowship enable a cadre of homegrown leaders to step right into leadership roles and can help jumpstart other efforts to build and develop local talent. Programs like ULEAD are the embodiment of education reform and can and should be replicated and scaled at every CMO serving a majority Black student body.

Black leadership is necessary not only in terms of maintaining close connections with the community in the role of teachers, para professionals and principals, but also in the capacity of leading CMOs, influencing policy and practice, and designing and facilitating strategies for schools that serve hundreds and thousands of children. Recruiting and capacity building approaches that value the perspectives and skills of those professionals whose talents and experiences align with the needs of our children stand to be the most effective in sustaining education reform efforts throughout the city and as a model for the country.

Much of what has been criticized about New Orleans education reform landscape is its lack of diversity and local control. The Urban League is a very well respected local Black institution and has launched an education leadership academy to train and empower Black professionals in the city with the knowledge, resources, and network to act in support of creating sustainable quality educational options and policies. Ethan Ashley, Director of Community Engagement, shared his thoughts on the Urban League’s inaugural Urban Leaders for Equity and Diversity (ULEAD) cohort.

MM: What is ULEAD?

EA: Urban Leaders for Equity and Diversity (ULEAD) is the premier training institute for Black professionals in the community on the current educational landscape in New Orleans. The purpose of ULEAD is to educate and empower action by Black professionals on principles of leadership, diversity, and equity within education. The program helps prepare participants for various roles in education throughout New Orleans. This is to ensure that the system is sustainable and equitable. Topics covered in the training include the history of education in New Orleans, New Orleans education policy and governance, New Orleans civic engagement, the future of education in New Orleans, and professional development. A major focus of the program is to help each of the fellows find his or her place in the education movement.

MM: The most exciting part for me about ULEAD is that you have a respected Black organization like the Urban League training Black leaders in education. Why did it take so long for a program like this to exist?

EA: Our organization has a long history of providing direct services to those most vulnerable and impacted by the educational system. We run a Head Start program in the ninth ward, a K-12 parent information center, and a college and career readiness program for high school students. We wanted to be thoughtful about when and how we launched this next phase of work. As shifts occurred in the educational landscape, and funding was made available, it became clear that the time was right. Within a week of the ULEAD application’s release, we received three times the amount of applications needed to fill our first cohort. As a result, we have stepped up and created a fall cohort to meet the needs and interests of the community where we will continue to not only accept applications, but also accept fellows from the current pool of applicants.

MM: What level of impact do you think Black educational leaders have on New Orleans in today’s landscape?

EA: The sky’s the limit! The Urban League believes that Black educational leadership is imperative to raising the bar of education to the next level. Quality Black leadership in education is a necessity for a system that is made up of a predominately African American student body. Black leadership within the education system would both provide a more leveled and culturally diverse setting for African American students and positively impact the power dynamics that play out in the school setting. Therefore, it is important to continue to invest and provide the appropriate tools and training to create a sustainable community that itself will produce leaders.

MM: Tell me about the cohort selected for the inaugural class.

EA: ULEAD is about bringing equity, diversity, and sustainability to education in New Orleans, and our fellows embody these core principles. We selected a very diverse cohort of 26 fellows who range in age, gender, and professional experience. Among the group are university professors, engineers, business owners, school principals, attorneys, etc. The program is intense and demanding in time, action, and thought. Each fellow is expected to complete pre-work and homework assignments weekly. By the end of the program, they will be versed in education advocacy, human capital, entrepreneurship, policy, and governance. Helping facilitate ULEAD represents hope for me. It’s hope for the city because the program is about action. This is not an information boot camp where you just sit and listen. This is a program where action is required. Already, fellows have been challenged to think about what it would take to move into a role as CMO leader, or what it would take to serve on the Orleans Parish School Board or local charter school boards. We are building a pipeline of Black leaders in education, and this is just the beginning.

How zero-tolerance policies are hurting our children

Families in Louisiana are calling for an end to zero-tolerance policies and suspension laws because they do not address student behavior and disproportionately target poor people and students of color. Secondlineblog’s Andre Perry discusses on his latest CNN appearance that the “vigorous enforcement of lower level offenses with the aim of reducing or preventing high level offenses penalize the people who are being targeted by these laws and policies.” Under zero-tolerance policies in schools, students become primed for a life of cycling through the system. Most of us can agree that we have an education issue in Louisiana and here in New Orleans. Last year the state of Louisiana reported suspending 1000 kindergarteners. Given the evidence that demonstrates the likelihood of incarceration among students suspended from school, it seems absurd that students as young as five and six year old are subject to such probabilities. This trend of punitively removing students from critical classroom instruction not only fails to address the root causes of student behavior, it ultimately undermines the school’s ability to establish themselves as a safety net. Instead, schools have become the proverbial “training camp” for detention centers throughout the state.

Families and Friends of Louisiana’s Incarcerated Children based in New Orleans are urging law makers to amend SB 54– a law that is the basis for school discipline and zero-tolerance policies for K-12 in Louisiana. The bill proposed by Senator West-Broome of Baton Rouge was heard and passed the Senate’s Education Committee last week. The revision would reduce the number of suspensions and explosions by excluding students grade K-3, unless students are a threat to the safety of others. Rather than suspending or expelling students, a case-by-case determination would be made for students who displayed unacceptable behavior. The bill suggests schools begin to implement alternatives to suspension such as a loss of privileges, counseling, or a set of interventions that seek to address the behavior while also keeping the student in school. Zero-tolerance policies are subjective to who are interpreting and enforcing them. The current trend demonstrates that these policies only initiate contact between law enforcement and our children. Teaching is incredibly hard, in building behavior intervention plans with students and families I always saw my role as two fold both to maintain a safe and structured learning environment for all of my students and to be compassionate and understand my students as whole beings. By identifying serious behavior issues and complementing interventions early teachers become shields and the arm of the safety nets schools are intended to be.

Alternatives like intervention and counseling have shown to address behaviors in student and deter higher level offenses. Mayor Mitch Landrieu is championing the use of restorative justice in New Orleans public schools through the NOLA FOR LIFE initiative. New Orleans Health Department and Center for Restorative Approaches have just announced last week that they have partnered with NOLA FOR LIFE by supporting the work of conflict resolution a practice of restorative justice in schools. Organizations like the Center for Restoratives Approaches and Families and Friends of Louisiana’s Incarcerated Children, helped usher in these changes by organizing and educating families about the dangers of punitive school discipline policies and by demonstrating that “zero-tolerance” approaches have no utility. Restorative approaches offer an alternative for schools to begin building problem-solving skills while fostering a level of understanding and community that ultimately help to resolve conflict. This practice was acknowledged as a best practice by President Obama’s Supportive School Discipline Initiative, and has shown evidence of reducing suspension rates and improving school environments.

Now, why does all of this matter right now? It matters because of Freddie Gray, Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant and Henry Glover. It matters because the children and people disproportionately targeted by these policies are people of color and poor. Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness speaks directly to how “tough on crime” laws gave birth to zero-tolerance school policies and are the “bird cages” that house children as they learn to be criminalized and move through the school-to-prison pipeline. Rather than schools being conduits of hope and educational opportunity they serve as the triage for prisons. So, it matters because these policies become the very systems that carries out prejudice notions. Schools have had parents inherit trust – trust that their children are safe, respected, and valued. As every Baltimore and Ferguson continue to publically playout, the trust needed to sustain schools is slowly being chipped away. Parents and students alike are outraged that schools and police – two entities that share very different values – have such similar missions. Zero-tolerance then, has become code for “black men are not allowed, period”, and as the trend indicates, black women and girls aren’t too far behind. Throughout the country, black men and boys, whether in the classroom or not, are targets for punitive treatment by both schools and law enforcement. So, yes, it matters because we here in New Orleans have an opportunity that before things erupt we can change policies, procedures, school and city culture, and behaviors. Yes, it matters because we can do better.




Becoming joint cultural architects with the families of New Orleans

My local friends always introduce me to people as their “friend from California” who “works in education”. As soon as the introduction is made, it’s usually followed by a very nostalgic and detailed loving story describing schools as cultural hubs. Schools that were loved and esteemed by the community, schools that convened families at rival football games like “35” vs. Warren Easton or at events like the St. Mary’s annual talent show. Such schools produced respected leaders in the city like Father Tony of Our Lady Star of the Sea and Judge Gray. These stories help reinforce the idea that schools aren’t just places young people go to learn, but – much like the church – often serve as the heart and soul of the community. Inherent to its genetic makeup as a cultural institution, the school connects generations; and as a common denominator in and between families, builds a collective identity that transcends space and time.

In New Orleans, the question, “Where did you go to school?” tells you what legacy someone comes out of, and historically, schools in New Orleans have been effective in creating a deep sense of identity and pride among students which tends to radiate throughout the school and community. The concept of a community school, however, has been highly scrutinized under the post Katrina decentralized school system, but why?

Whenever I meet or engage with graduates of schools like Karr, McDonogh 35 or St. Augustine, I’m reminded of the role schools play in cultivating a sense of cultural and community pride – a concept few schools in New Orleans are designed or equipped to instill. The need for children to have strong connections to their communities couldn’t be more imperative following the mass displacement of families and communities brought on by Katrina, however, schools struggle with intentionally embracing their role as cultural institutions. As the cultural capital of school has shifted to become more metrics-driven, the value placed on the non-academic needs of the child has become less of a priority. However, Dr. Brian Turner, who is a Professor of Psychology at Xavier (and a Newman and Southern University graduate) and whose research focuses on cultural competency and mental health, explains that schools must help develop the capacity of children to identify and manage their resources. And specifically in New Orleans many of the resources children carry with them are grounded in culture and social capital. Schools must also demonstrate both the competency and willingness to build genuine relationships with parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles, play cousins, pastors, coaches, barbers, and last but certainly not least, the student. Though charter schools have been consistent with their message about preparing children to be college-bound and offer parents an alternative, the general sentiment is that academic rigor alone misses the mark in terms of what’s needed to educate black children and children of color in New Orleans.

As education reformers who focus so much attention on innovation I often find that we miss opportunities to strengthen our work by maintaining what was effectively working in the schools we are helping turn around. Moving forward how will students respond to the question, “Where did you go to school?” and will we have missed the opportunity to leverage the cultural value of these schools? Our role as reformers involves asking students what they like and want to see in their school and building a rapport with their families to keep us connected to their everyday experiences. It’s no surprise that by fostering a culture that resonates with students enhances their overall engagement. Families in New Orleans have already demonstrated a deep commitment to schools in the city and their willingness to continue to do so is very present. Becoming joint cultural architects with the families of this city makes us winners. The stakes are too high, we need to win.

How I Became a Reformer


What is the state of education in New Orleans 10 years after the storm? Like crawfish boils in the spring, this question has become a staple in the social lexicon of families, teachers, church mothers, and reformers in New Orleans. Responses to the question, more often than not, lead to a more complex set of conversations about crime, violence, prisons and the lack of opportunity. The proximal relationship I have to each often prompts a reflection of my own childhood experiences with these interwoven systems and helps explain how and why I became a reformer.

Something we did regularly as a family was take long drives and stand in long lines to visit my older brother who has cycled through prison systems since 1997 – the same year Master P dropped his biggest single, “Make ‘Em Say Uhh!”. Rudy, who was incredibly charming and talented as a young boy, became a man in a California penitentiary. Week after week, we would see the same families visiting their boys. These families were black, Latino, Asian, white and oddly, well organized. Whether standing in line to receive a visiting number, or while waiting for the bus to take us to the secure visitation area, we organized. Across language barriers, age differences and gang communities we shared information that ranged from the best drug programs to the most effective (and inexpensive) lawyers. Through tears of disappointment, hopelessness, and sheer fear of the unknown, we used our collective experiences and stories to draw strength together. It is here – within an enclave of chaos and dejection – that I became fascinated with the power of organizing and enamored by the willingness of families to toil with, support, and uplift each other through commonalities in the fight for their children. Though I haven’t a clue where those families are now, the spirit of their struggle is resonant of the struggle black and brown families in New Orleans have endured over the past 10 years to find quality schools for their kids. As an organizer who believes in reform as a lever of equity, it pains me to witness such disparate institutions – prisons and schools – produce such homogenous outcomes.

In 2012, Cindy Chang and the Times-Picayune put out an eight part series, “Louisiana Incarcerated: How We Built the World’s Prison Capital”. Something I learned then has always stayed with me—the typical lifer (prisoner with a life sentence) enters Angola at 25 years old. With all of the rage and sadness that overwhelms me by that fact alone— I think about the opportunity our families, communities, and schools have for at least 13 years of their lives. I think about the thousands of families who serve the same time as their children without ever entering a prison cell. I think about the trajectory of our schools since Katrina and I’m reminded that the odds we face in creating a more equitable education system is the glue we need to piece together our communities, our strength, and our love for the children of the city.

I understand firsthand the risks of not improving the quality of schools and what that does to families and communities. As we look forward to the next ten years of reform, it is important to recruit teachers who are from New Orleans – who understand these risks and who in addition to providing the academic rigor our students need also understands how to motivate and inspire our children. If the schools my brother and I attended had a standard of academic rigor, a culture of scholarship that translated culturally to me and my peers, and that were inclusive of our community and traditions – other possibilities could be imagined for my brother’s life trajectory and so many other young people like him. The vision moving forward needs to be created with teachers, parents and students and should include a deliberate plan that disrupts the school-to-prison trends in the state. Since Hurricane Katrina there has been an influx of the Vietnamese and Latino population in the city. Our vision must include voices from the Vietnamese and Latino community and include the issues affecting their children. Sustaining the education reform movement can only happen when children’s best advocates – their parents – are active participants in changing the systems, policies and community’s engagement with schools.

High-Quality Options and Social Capital for Black Children in New Orleans

Front gate of Audubon Charter School in New Orleans.

Jonas Perriott, father of a beautiful, wide-eyed three-year-old daughter, says that high-quality school options are scarce in New Orleans public schools. His best bet is to start now and get as many shots at the target until she gets in. So that means applying to highly selective Pre-K programs (like the one at Audubon Charter School) now until she is able to get in. Read More