Three or so years ago, in what seemed like a doomed search for schools to pilot test an urban ecology curriculum, I chanced upon an assistant principal at a local magnet school. She had worked in biology labs at Harvard and actually knew E.O. Wilson and Stephen Jay Gould. Somewhere along the way she discovered that urban schools were where she wanted to spend the balance of her career. In the time since I met her, she has completed her doctorate at a Hartford university and also served a one year internship with the superintendent of Hartford Public Schools. This spring, she hit the jackpot: a former preK-6 elementary school is being transformed into a middle school with an expeditionary learning theme. And she has been appointed the principal. She has a muralist updating office walls, a moving company taking out the tiny chairs, her custodians are vigorously emptying the closets, and she is rehiring just 5 of the existing staff while bringing in an additional 30 people. Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to tour her school and witness her interactions with a couple of her staff. The most amazing scene occurred when she suggested we make a candy run before I departed.
We walked across the street and into a classic bodega, the kind most of us have only experienced by watching movies. Just inside the door was the counter on the right, framed by plexiglass.
Two local kids were laboring over the candy choices displayed on either side of the cashier’s window and below. Surprisingly there were also fresh vegetables and locally baked bread available to purchase. My friend had been here before and knew where the plain M&Ms and Sour Patch sticks could be found. Understandably, she wants to become known in the neighborhood. While I would have been content to simply observe the confectionery conversations, Stacy asked the taller boy what grade he was in: “Eighth” he answered brightly. His buddy was going into sixth. When Stacy uncovered that they were going to the “new” school across the street, she offered her hand and introduced herself as their principal.
The delight on the boys' faces as they left the store to get on their bikes was something to witness. It was more than the glow of having met a celebrity. Their faces suggested an unexpected eagerness about the next school year. The regular neighborhood school they had attended just a month earlier was being transformed over the summer. It was going to be a new place. And now they had met the lady who was going to be running the place. Excitement, anticipation and hope. Stacy has an incredible amount of work to do between now and the first day of school. Over sandwiches she and a couple of her team members were trying to figure out how to rotate three grade levels through a tiny cafeteria. And then there is the matter of who will supervise the children as they eat. But even with the countless tasks required to physically whip the place into shape, I envy Stacy and am proud that she also noticed the glow that her handshake pumped into her future students. Things are going to be different, things are going to be better, and if I am wise then I’ll find ways to contribute and reap benefits.
We walked across the street and into a classic bodega, the kind most of us have only experienced by watching movies. Just inside the door was the counter on the right, framed by plexiglass.
Two local kids were laboring over the candy choices displayed on either side of the cashier’s window and below. Surprisingly there were also fresh vegetables and locally baked bread available to purchase. My friend had been here before and knew where the plain M&Ms and Sour Patch sticks could be found. Understandably, she wants to become known in the neighborhood. While I would have been content to simply observe the confectionery conversations, Stacy asked the taller boy what grade he was in: “Eighth” he answered brightly. His buddy was going into sixth. When Stacy uncovered that they were going to the “new” school across the street, she offered her hand and introduced herself as their principal. The delight on the boys' faces as they left the store to get on their bikes was something to witness. It was more than the glow of having met a celebrity. Their faces suggested an unexpected eagerness about the next school year. The regular neighborhood school they had attended just a month earlier was being transformed over the summer. It was going to be a new place. And now they had met the lady who was going to be running the place. Excitement, anticipation and hope. Stacy has an incredible amount of work to do between now and the first day of school. Over sandwiches she and a couple of her team members were trying to figure out how to rotate three grade levels through a tiny cafeteria. And then there is the matter of who will supervise the children as they eat. But even with the countless tasks required to physically whip the place into shape, I envy Stacy and am proud that she also noticed the glow that her handshake pumped into her future students. Things are going to be different, things are going to be better, and if I am wise then I’ll find ways to contribute and reap benefits.
