When the Street and the Classroom Collide
In many ways, these kids drive the academic agenda of schools. Take the Virginia Standards of Learning exams. They were initiated as a desperate quick-fix effort to close the gap between low-income minority kids and middle-class kids. The thinking was that if schools like T.C., with a large number of minority students, were labeled as failing, teachers and administrators would suddenly feel pressured to transform these kids into scholars. In fact, the performance of minority students on the SOLs has been so poor that the tests have been made easier to avoid a political uproar over disproportionate numbers of minority students not getting diplomas.
In the national debate over education, it's fashionable -- and politically safe -- to blame the schools for poor test scores and self-defeating attitudes. Inner-city schools, the argument goes, don't have as many resources as schools in the more affluent suburbs. But Alexandria has the highest per-pupil expenditure of any school system in the Washington metropolitan area. Since T.C. is the city's only public high school, every kid is offered the same opportunities. The clearest evidence that the culture kids come from can play a bigger role than the school is that immigrants from Africa, Latin America and the Middle East, some of whom have spoken English for only two or three years, are leaving many American-born black kids in the academic dust.
No one sees this more clearly than the kids themselves. Senior Bryan Walton, who is American-born, has a Nigerian cousin living with his family. He thinks that "African guys are more focused and disciplined; they have goals. African parents are determined to make their kids work in school. African American guys are spoiled. They won't work their way up the totem pole the way people from other countries will."
Reka Barton, who will attend the University of Virginia in the fall, agrees. "The African guys come here wanting to get an education; they know it will pay off. A lot of African American guys don't understand that -- their thing is to act tough," she says.
And the problem isn't limited to boys. I see a lot of focused, determined African American girls like Reka. But I'd be less than honest if I didn't admit that there is a group of hard-core girls who are the antithesis of young women like her. These girls are so crass that they are a source of both embarrassment and amusement to sophisticated black girls. Shouting, cursing, talking a garbled blue streak and threatening other girls are their trademarks. In the halls and even in classrooms, their decibel level can be deafening. "I'm so embarrassed for them," says Dominique Justice, who will attend Radford College in the fall. "They don't realize how ghetto they appear to others. They are desperate for attention. They think fighting is cute."
Senior Jaselle White says these girls learn their behavior at home. "If you see your mother yelling and cussing you get to think it is normal. They make themselves look stupid being all out -- fighting, yelling ." Jaselle says that some girls aspire to no more than being "video 'hos -- the kind of half-naked ones you see on the BET videos at three in the morning."
"When I try to tell girls to be careful of their image, that they are portraying themselves as rude and obnoxious, they accuse me of being a hater," says Mathia Biggs, who will attend Florida A&M next year. "Because I don't go along with them, they think I am stuck up and conceited."
The odd thing is that, while they may appear threatening to outsiders, especially when they hang around in big groups in the school lobby or outside the cafeteria, so many of these kids are pussycats. As students, they really frustrate me, but as individuals, they can be delightful. One morning before school last week, I went over to talk to the gangsta wannabes. At first they were a little wary of a teacher with gray hair coming up to them, but when I started asking them about their fashions, they immediately warmed up.
I find that when they get to know you, they usually treat you with respect. In fact, they go even further; they try to protect you. I remember a couple of years ago hollering out my classroom window at some girls making a lot of noise on the sidewalk below. They hollered back at me to shut up. Two girls in my class instantly raced out of the room to "get" the noisemakers for insulting their teacher.
Of course, that isn't what I want. What I want is for the kids to adopt better attitudes, to be engaged in class, to care about themselves and others, and to recognize and respect their own potential. But how do we get there? And how much can the school do?
T.C. is undeniably superb at controlling these kids so that they don't run wild. But we're not so good at motivating them. I'm not sure how much a school with 2,000 students can actually do in that regard, but a good start, it seems to me, would be to hire some black men as guidance counselors. There's not a single male, black or white, among our nine counselors -- an obvious flaw, in my book.
Next year, we're considering taking one small step: banning the CD Walkmans that kids listen to between classes and often sneak into class as well. There's been some vague talk among teachers about a dress code, but would it work? It might help the school's image if those guys smoking out front every morning were dressed in khaki pants and dress shirts with ties, but I'm not sure it would change their attitudes.
In truth, there aren't any quick, simple solutions such as those the education bureaucrats and politicians promise with their "high stakes" tests. Yet in the long run I do see hope.
I've taught long enough to have the children of former students in my classes, and in almost every case, even when I remember the parents as being thoroughly into the street culture, I've found that their children are much more serious about school than the parents were. It's as though the parents eventually learned, even if too late, that being scholarly wasn't the sellout they thought it was and have done everything they could to make sure their children got that message. At least, that's what I think.
Author's e-mail:May6dog@aol.com
Pat Welsh has taught English at T.C. Williams High School in Alexandria for more than 30 years.
© 2004 The Washington Post Company
|