My Debt, My Life

NEA members are struggling with student loan debt of unprecedented proportions. Here's why it matters, even if your college days (and bills) are a thing of the past.

By Cynthia Kopkowski

Read what our members are saying about this story and join the discussion.

Funny thing about educators, they're good at math. Some of them even teach it. So they know that if they make $28,000 a year and owe $15,000 on student loans, they're in big trouble.

Woodrow Price 25 Fifth-grade teacher Port Gibson, Mississippi $28,000 in Student Loan Debt I enrolled in grad school to defer my student loans. When you first enroll and fill out the forms, you really just care about getting your tuition and fees paid for. But once you start realizing how much you're going to have to pay back, it doesn't feel the same anymore. There was a time when I thought about changing my major, but I decided to stick it out. Still, when I think about these loans, I think about the burden on my family. I'm borrowing my mother's car; she's sacrificing her vehicle. I'm living somewhere I don't really want to live. There are a lot of things I really want to do but can't. I'd like to travel.

That's the kind of arithmetic that a growing number of them, especially new teachers and current education majors, are agonizing over as college costs balloon and salaries stagnate. Many young people, increasingly savvy about their future income-to-debt ratio, are making decisions about careers based on the reality of having to repay loans. So at a time when there is a great need for qualified teachers, young people are discouraged from entering the profession.

Today, two-thirds of four-year college graduates leave with student loan debt, compared with less than a third just 10 years ago, according to the State Public Interest Research Group's Higher Education Project. And they carry twice as much debt as they did 10 years ago, too.

"We absolutely see a chilling effect," on public service professions, says Robert Shireman, director of the Project on Student Debt. "Students are setting their sights on the future and saying, 'I can't afford to be a teacher or a social worker.'"

Estimates by the research group found that 23 percent of public college graduates leave school with too much debt to manageably repay their loans on a starting teacher's salary. It jumps even higher for students leaving private colleges. Because of the cost of living and teacher salaries, graduates are in the worst shape with unmanageable debt in New Hampshire, Wisconsin, North Dakota, Vermont, Utah, Maine, South Dakota, Montana, Connecticut, and Minnesota.

After completing his undergraduate career at Alabama A&M University, Anthony Daniels owed more in loans than he would make as a starting teacher. In part to defer the loans, and hoping to improve his salary prospects, he went to graduate school. Now he's $58,000 in debt and considering walking away from teaching in favor of law school. "Unfortunately my situation is not unique," says Daniels, the chair of NEA's Student Program. "In fact, it is becoming the norm. We are losing too many qualified teachers because of student loans. It's not just a burden, it's a barrier."

How Did We Get Here?

There is no "in my day, we walked five miles uphill in the snow to get to school" corollary for what's happening to today's college graduates. "Things are different for this generation compared to the last," says Shireman. "People say, 'Oh, I got through college and managed to pay,' but that's just not the case anymore because the costs are growing so significantly."

Since 1994, debt levels for graduating seniors more than doubled to $19,200, according to the Public Interest Research Group. (For 8 percent of graduates, their loans top a whopping $40,000.) Factoring in inflation, the average student debt burden in 2004 was almost 60 percent higher than in 1994.

Ashley Davis 26 Student Member University of Alabama - Birmingham $15,000 in Student Loan Debt My education is valuable to me; it will help me become the type of teacher I'd want teaching my daughter. But I'm a single mother and have to finance my education somehow. I started taking out loans about a year and a half ago. Knowing that I'm going into a profession that pays so little is very overwhelming. I want a new home but it doesn't look like it's in my future. The debt is taking away from money I could be spending on my daughter. I need a new car. Mine has 206,000 miles on it and I don't know how much longer it will last. But I have a love for children and education, and I knew from the very beginning I'm not doing this for the pay. At the same time, it's very scary knowing that I'm going to owe a lot more than I can make.

Black and Hispanic college graduates are hit even harder than their White counterparts, according to the Project on Student Debt. Black graduates have a higher amount of student loan debt and more of them have debt than White graduates. The number of Hispanic students with debt is on par with Whites, but they carry more debt.

Among NEA members specifically, a majority of those who have been teaching less than four years have student loan debt, according to a 2006 NEA Member Benefits poll. For half of that group, the bill totals more than $15,000.

Why did this become, as one author dubbed it, "Generation Debt"?

For starters, tuition costs are rising faster than inflation—they've ballooned 42 percent in the past five years (and inflation is outpacing teacher salaries, too). That's been the trend for nearly two decades. And wages have stalled. In 2006, the median U.S. household income dropped 2 percent. Consider that families are increasingly squeezed by health care and housing costs. Then factor in that the previous Congress hiked interest rates on student loans and cut $12 billion from the Federal Student Aid program. At the same time, today's economy dictates that one needs more than a high school diploma to join the middle class. College graduates earn $1 million more during their lifetime than those without a degree, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. "So it's becoming increasingly important and increasingly expensive," to pursue higher education, says Shireman.

When it's time to find the money, students are more and more often turning to private lenders who loan money freely but often on less-favorable terms than government loans. A decade ago, private lenders were responsible for only 5 percent of the education loan dollars in use. Now they comprise 20 percent and it's become a $17.3 billion market. Sallie Mae, the largest private lender in operation, reported $1 billion in profits last year. At one online retailer, 20 bucks buys a T-shirt that states in bold, black letters, "Property of Sallie Mae."

Two Generations of Debt

Zoua Xiong 28 Student Member University of Wisconsin - Milwaukee $28,000 in Student Loan Debt $75,000 in Household Student Loan Debt My husband and I are both students. He's been taking a loan out every year. He only qualified for financial aid after we got married and had our son. Seventy-five thousand dollars—this is how much we're going to owe. We're hoping that if we suffer a little now, we'll be better off down the line. When we get done with school we want to buy a house, but I think we're going to have problems. With our student loans out and credit card bills, we might not have that chance.

Some households would need two of those T-shirts. As career-changers enter the profession from other fields and current teachers go back to school for master's degrees in the hopes of eking out a better salary, their bills are mounting, too.

Susan Knable, a 46-year-old special education teacher in Collins, Ohio, has $51,000 in student loan debt. She accrued it between 1990 and 2000 while working to get her undergraduate and master's degrees. Living in a rental apartment, Knable—a divorced mother of four—says she would probably be able to own a home by now if it weren't for her loans, which she likens to a 20-year mortgage. Each month, one of her paychecks goes to rent and bills. The second paycheck goes to the student loan. "I have a personal goal to get rid of that debt by 50, but I don't know if I'll make it," she says. "I might extend it to 52." Her children have now graduated and they, too, have loans. But, she points out, when her son finished college and went into the Air Force, his starting salary as a second lieutenant was a figure she didn't see until her eighth year of teaching.

Fellow Ohioan Terri Crothers, a 44-year-old art teacher in Gallipolis, carries $50,000 in student loan debt, which she started accumulating in 1996 after switching careers. That was the amount that she came up short even after investing $20,000 of her own savings in her schooling. Like many teachers who have debt but have been working for a number of years, Crothers is left out of legislation that offers loan forgiveness. Provisions that allow for cancellation of Perkins and Stafford loans for teachers working in low-income schools are limited and available only to those who got the government loans on or after October 1, 1998. Many people don't understand that "a lot of the legislation is focused on people about to come out of school," Crothers says. "But I'm in a situation where my kid has braces, we've got a mortgage, and I've got student loan debt."

Anthony Daniels 25 Student Member Alabama A&M University $58,000 in Student Loan Debt I'm having second thoughts about going into teaching. How am I going to afford to have a family? Buy a house? My federal loan payment is $326 a month. My private loan payment, after I consolidated, is $300. Had I not consolidated, it would have been $600 or $700 a month. That's on a $34,000 salary. I would be living on the street at that amount. Along with my car payment and auto insurance, I was dropped from my parents' health insurance. It all adds up. It's forcing me to want to go to law school more and more.

On her salary, something has to give, and it's the student loans. Crothers admits that she is six months behind in her payments, a delinquency that keeps her awake some nights, wondering how she will ever catch up. "We're teachers and we're providing a public service," she says. "Since our pay certainly isn't keeping up, we could use help on this."

Even members who aren't personally hampered by student load debt will feel its effects. Lobbying strength at the bargaining table and in legislative halls is sapped when young members aren't involved because they're overwhelmed by student loans. Worse, their debt makes them susceptible to viewing union membership as a non-essential expense. Mike Langyel, a high school teacher in Waukesha, Wisconsin, and a veteran member of the Milwaukee Teachers Education Association bargaining team, sees the corrosive effect on union advocacy in his area.

"These young people are really getting killed on student loans," says Langyel, who points out that many of his young colleagues work second jobs to stay afloat. "To try to get them involved in union activities when they are struggling with student loan debt isn't going to work." Teachers are also pressured to go back to school for advanced degrees to get more money, Langyel says, meaning higher turnover on school staffs and deepening debt for them. Everyone wants their schools packed with highly qualified teachers, but when it comes to financing those advanced degrees, educators are on their own.

Observing the bind his younger colleagues are in, he thinks, "this is going to be a tough life for them."

Fighting on the Hill to Lower the Bill

Jenna Miller 21 Student Member Waldorf College Forest City, Iowa $30,000 in Student Loan Debt I was lucky to get some scholarships, but I've still got a little more than $30,000 in debt. I'm responsible for $17,088 and my parents are covering the remaining $13,000. I'm growing concerned about next semester. I'll be student teaching, which means I can't hold another job and I have bills to cover and car payments to make. Books alone are expensive. So I'll probably have to take out another loan to cover me while I'm student teaching. I miss being able to go out to eat or go to a movie, the simple things that add up each week. But I have such a deep passion for teaching kids and seeing their faces light up when they learn something new. I will love being a part of that. My dad is a teacher and hearing his stories is a big part of why I want to teach.

Assistance for future students came this past summer with the passage of legislation providing $20 billion to increase grant aid for low-income students and cut subsidies to student loan companies. The new law increases the Pell Grant program to $4,800 next year (and $5,400 by 2012) by replacing the $12 billion cut previously. Also, it slashes in half the interest rates on subsidized student loans.

This College Cost Reduction and Access Act is a sweeping piece of legislation being compared to the G.I. Bill. Student lenders fought the reform vehemently. Left out of the final law—thanks in part to pressure on legislators by NEA members mobilized by the Association's "College Affordability Concerns Me" campaign—was a troubling amendment that would have given student loan companies more than $4 billion at the expense of the grant aid to students.

But the work isn't over. NEA is redoubling its efforts to push for a $40,000 starting salary for all teachers, says Bill Raabe, director of NEA Collective Bargaining and Member Advocacy. "We have a real opportunity to help engage younger members," he says. "We can show them that involvement with the Association will help them help themselves to improve salaries to, in turn, pay off those loans."

And NEA continues to advocate for legislation that will make it easier to consolidate loans. Daniels, a leader in the affordability campaign, also calls on educators to be careful observers of what candidates in the 2008 races have to say about making college more affordable. If they say nothing, or give unsatisfactory answers, they must be pushed by grassroots activism, Daniels says. "We must hold these people accountable." He'll be visiting college campuses this year, urging students to register to vote and to cast their vote based on their education priorities. "We're going to make this a turnout issue," vows Daniels.

THE BOTTOM LINE

Kristi Uzzo 23 Second-Grade teacher Oswego, Illinois $15,000 in Student Loan Debt My grandparents set up a college fund for me. I thought that was going to be enough, but because of the tuition increase it ended up not even being enough for four years. Everyone wants good teachers to educate our youth and yet we're leaving educators with so much debt. I'm seeing people who could be really great teachers, but because of the debt they've left the field. Now that I'm officially on my own, I'm living paycheck to paycheck. I wouldn't be able to afford a mortgage. With groceries and all of my bills and insurance it's kind of scary. And I'm not even supporting a family. My district is really encouraging us to go back for our master's because the first-year teacher pay isn't all that great. A lot of people have expressed concerns about getting through it financially.

Despite all the financial obstacles facing those with student loans, they are optimistic about their work. "I see in our young teachers a real goodness," says Milwaukee's Langyel. "They are really committed and they're really caring. The big challenge for us is to help them survive."

A little help is all Kristi Uzzo, an earnest suburban Chicago teacher, is asking for as she begins her career with a $37,000 salary and a $15,000 student-loan debt. "If you really love the profession, you'll find a way to make it work," says Uzzo, who has wanted to teach since second grade—the very grade she teaches now. "I'm committed to budgeting my money and making it work."

Wouldn't it be nice if she didn't have to "make it work" just to be able to do her work?

Send your comments on this story to ckopkowski@nea.org.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your Debt, Your Life The Conversation Doesn't End Here Almost immediately after we posted a query seeking teachers' student loan debt horror stories in our online forum, members began posting their amounts. $8,500 here, $169,000 there. The amounts are staggering. A couple of examples are below. Read more here. "Finally, someone that's in the same boat....I currently owe $90,000+ in student loans. I went back to school when I suddenly found myself without a spouse and three children to support. Because I didn't have a way of paying for the education I so desperately wanted, I had to apply for student loans." — Lois Johnson "I'm a junior in college majoring in elementary education. My current student loan debt is about $20K, and will be higher by the time I graduate. I'm terrified at the thought that when I start my new teaching career I won't be able to afford the payments on my student loans. I will not have the comforts that most college graduates can afford." For additional resources on the staggering costs of college, visit http://www.nea.org/collegeaffordability/index.html — Karen Mcleroy

 

 

 

Is this what Failure Looks Like?

How NCLB Gets it All Wrong.

By Alain Jehlen and Mary Ellen Flannery

If the staff of the Frank M. Tejeda Academy in San Antonio had a motto, it might well be "No Child Left Behind." And because of that, the federal law of the same name is punishing them.

Tejeda only takes students who can't make it in a regular school. It's the district's safety net, offering individual attention, help with day care for young mothers, and an endless supply of second chances: No matter how many times a student fails, if the student really wants to try again, Tejeda will take him or her back.

A school like that can't pass muster with the No Child Behind law (NCLB) as it stands today.

Tejeda and the three other schools in this series are unusual. But most public schools have some number ofstudents like theirs, students who face serious obstacles to becoming educated, productive adults.

 No Child Left Behind makes these students a dangerous burden threatening to sink the whole school. And the law automatically keeps raising the bar, making success harder and harder to achieve.

The latest NEA compilation shows one out of every four schools was unable to meet "adequate yearly progress" (AYP) last year, and one in seven was in "improvement" or "corrective action," which makes them subject to punishment if they receive federal Title I funds.

With NCLB up for renewal, educators are telling Congress to change the law. See page 37 to find out what you can do.

Schools like the five in this report deserve gold stars, not F's.

Frank M. Tejada Academy (San Antonio, Texas) - p. 1
Fairview Elementary (Washington D.C.) - p. 2
Napa High School (Napa, California) - p. 3
PS 48 (New York, New York) - p. 4
Broadway High School (Minneapolis, Minnesota) - p. 5

 

Second Chance High

America is supposed to be the land of second chances. If you make a mess of your life, but then turn around and pull yourself together, you can still make it in America—at least, we like to think so.

In that sense, the Frank M. Tejeda Academy in San Antonio is the all-American school. It's designed specifically for kids who didn't make it in the regular high school, but want to try again.

Take Mary, for example. She started at a regular high school in 2000 and at first did well, but she got pregnant as a junior and dropped out. Two years later, she showed up at Tejeda, now with two small children, but fortunately with her husband's encouragement. From December 2005 to May 2006, Mary mastered two major English courses, U.S. history, economics, government, and a demanding computer course. She earned her diploma and applied to college, on her way to becoming a nurse.

A success story, right?

Not if you're the federal No Child Left Behind law. Mary didn't graduate in four years, so as far as the law is concerned, Tejeda failed with her.

If Tejeda had refused to admit her, Mary would have failed but the school would have looked better to NCLB. Because Tejeda takes students like Mary, she could succeed, but the school failed.

"This school is for kids who can't graduate in four years," says Principal Patricia Ramirez, an NEA member. "Students who can graduate on time should go to a regular high school, which can offer so many more academic programs."

Which means her school will never pass the NCLB graduation standard.

Tejeda has flunked AYP three years so far. Next year, it's supposed to plan for a drastic overhaul or for closure, which would quite literally leave its 150–200 students behind.

But the school district has a better idea. Kathy Bruck, executive director of Curriculum and Instruction, says they will give up Tejeda's federal Title I dollars and replace them with local revenues. "It's a matter of doing the right thing for the students," says Bruck.

Tejeda is all about tailoring the education to the students, who are admitted to the school every Monday. They make progress—sometimes slowly, sometimes very fast—by completing "contracts" that amount to learning projects in each subject.

Algebra teacher Clay Huckins designs lessons to pull students in, like figuring out the path of a basketball shot into a hoop. Last year, some of his students flunked the state test—a heart-breaking surprise to him. "I would have bet my paycheck that they'd pass—they knew the material—but there was something about the testing situation." After a brief summer test-prep course, most did pass.

Of course, not everyone makes it at Tejeda. Last year, Huckins taught a student from a low-income, fatherless home who had flunked out of a regular high school. It was difficult to engage this boy, but Huckins stayed with him. Gradually, the boy built up momentum, until he was speeding through algebra much faster than most regular high school students would. "He's very smart, and he finished one contract after another," says Huckins. He passed the state algebra exit exam on his first try.

But this year, the boy stopped working and finally dropped out again; Huckins doesn't know why. If that boy comes back, he'll get a second chance, and a third, and a fourth if necessary.

Because no child is left behind at Tejeda. And thanks to a far-sighted district, the school won't be, either.

When the boy made progress, Huckins called his mother to give her good news.

The Day the Music Died?

There are some pointy-headed people in Washington, D.C., (but not at NEA!) who think the worth of a school can be measured by its test scores. OK, fine. Let's show them the numbers for Fairview Elementary, a small school with big ambition, in Bloomington, Indiana.

In 2003, just 39 percent of Fairview's students passed language arts and a paltry 35 percent passed in math. But, by last year, the passing rate had grown to 60 and 59 percent, respectively. For non-special ed students alone, it was 72 percent.

You know it didn't come easy, right? This is a school where kids are so poor that teachers pack their bookbags with food on Fridays. This is a school where students trot to class from the homeless shelter down the street. (These are not excuses. They are obstacles.)

It can be a heart-wrenching place to work—and not least of all because, despite its amazing growth, Fairview still wore a scarlet F last year! It failed to meet special education attendance standards by 8/100ths of a point. "To make so many changes and so much progress and still not make it…" muses instructional coach Chris Freeman, "It was a downer."

Now, after four consecutive years of failing to meet NCLB standards, the school must plan to restructure. One proposed "solution"? Simply shutting Fairview's doors. It is, after all, serving just 250 students in an aging, handicapped-inaccessible building—and it might just be easier to move on.

But would it be better? Look inside Kathy Heise's music classroom for the answer. Heise, who has degrees in music and literacy, doesn't just teach her students to read music. She teaches them to read, period. With her younger kids, she looks at song lyrics. Where musicians find rhymes, she finds lessons in phonemic awareness. With slightly older kids, musical rhythms can be used to highlight syllables. "Metered poetry, you could call it," she says.

Some of her older students actually write in her class, answering such open-ended prompts as: "If you could create a new recipe for your favorite musician, what would it be and why?" They also learn algebraic skills when they tackle mixed-meter music. And all of these lessons are coordinated with classroom teachers, as well as state standards, so that Heise knows she's singing the right tune.

Heise previously worked specifically with English Language Learners, and she found they quickly grasped language through music. It's also a particularly effective strategy with poor children. "It opens up new ways to make connections. It just turns the key a little bit," she says.

Fairview's greatest gains have been in language arts—and the teachers have done it without drill-and-kill tactics. Freeman, the instructional coach, works with teachers and students on Readers and Writers Workshops designed to give students "time to ponder, to really read, and think about what they're reading," she says.

"As the poverty level rises, I think it's just astonishing that we've made so much progress," Freeman says. "Unfortunately, because of AYP, all you'll ever hear is the negative."

Trouble at 'The Statue of Liberty'

"This school is the Statue of Liberty," says English teacher Cindy Watter about Napa High School, in the wine country 30 miles north of San Francisco. "We get students from all sorts of demographics, and we specialize in new immigrants." Napa is a 2005 "California Distinguished School," a distinction shared by about 1 in 20 of the state's schools. Napa also has award-winning music, dance, and journalism programs.

But for the past three years, Napa High's English Language Learners (ELLs) haven't passed the state English test, and that puts the whole school in "Program Improvement" under No Child Left Behind. The school passed in every other NCLB category.

Napa revamped its ELL program four years ago, with a new curriculum and schedule, and became a model that other schools tried to emulate. But the following year, says ELL teacher Katy Howard, the standard got tougher (NCLB requires periodic jumps in pass rates) and Napa started failing.

Why can't the ELL students pass? "They're tested too early," says Howard. "They're tested the minute they arrive."

"It's like, 'Bienvenidos a los Estados Unidos! Now take this test,'" says Watter.

What's more, Howard says most of the new immigrants come from rural areas of Mexico where schooling is sporadic. "Probably 60 percent of my students are not even proficient in Spanish," she says.

Under "Program Improvement," even though it's only the ELL students who haven't met the standard, Napa High scrapped its literature program for lower level 9th- and 10th-grade native speakers. That's not all bad, says English teacher Sarah Villegas, who teaches bottom level readers. She was given a very elementary reading program to use, and it works.

"I've seen tremendous growth, not just in the test data but in the smiles on kids' faces when they complete their first book. Some of these kids never thought of graduating from high school before."

The program harps on reading mechanics, but Villegas' students also have 20 minutes every day to read for pleasure, with books written at reading levels as low as second grade, but with high school-appropriate content.

Students with slightly better reading ability get a different program, also new to Napa High, built around an anthology of book excerpts and short stories. It's a text so geared to the state test that the standards are printed right in the margins so students know what the state expects them to "achieve" on every page: "Identify story elements like plot and characters," and so on. Villegas says that both teachers and students feel this program is not about reading for pleasure or for enlightenment, just higher scores.

English teachers were told to attend long workshops with consultants on how to teach the new program. Cindy Watter refused: "I'd rather have chemotherapy than attend another meeting with them," says this two-time cancer survivor.

Watter insists on the value of teaching complete novels like The Scarlet Letter. "If I say, 'ignominious' and define it, and act it out, and draw a picture—they won't learn what it means," she explains. "But in chapter 6 of The Scarlet Letter, they get it."

She muses that perhaps it's all some sort of trick: "Maybe by forbidding literature, they figure they'll get the students to run around embracing books."

But it's no trick and worse is coming. This year, under NCLB, the percentage of students scoring "proficient" must go up again. If Napa's immigrants keep not passing, in three years the school must be "reconstituted," which could mean replacing the staff or closing Napa High, no matter how distinguished.

Students at the school speak 10 languages.

'The Best School in the Universe'

The South Bronx may be America's most infamous blighted urban area, but at the tip of the South Bronx there's a big elementary school with the pluck to call itself "the best school in the universe."

That's not an empty boast for PS 48. With virtually 100 percent low-income, minority students, this school has been among the top scorers in the Bronx, beating out much wealthier schools on the state test; so even by the measure Washington insists on, PS 48 is a standout.

What's more, teachers say, PS 48 achieves success in a very unusual way. Many urban schools have adopted rigidly structured drills to push up scores, but PS 48 is heading in the opposite direction: toward student-centered, individual, and small group instruction.

"In my room," says fifth-grade teacher Sandra Zadrima, "I want children exploring, analyzing literature, teaching each other, and having fun." And most of the time, Zadrima achieves that goal, with a lot of help from her colleagues.

The school culture encourages collaboration. "We take the best of what each teacher has and combine it," says special education teacher Celia Abuin. "You need help? Teachers will come in and demonstrate a lesson for you." There's a full-time staff developer for each grade in this 1,000-student, K–5 school, plus two teaching consultants imported from Australia.

The results are impressive. Reporters for the PBS NewsHour and the New York Times have visited PS 48 and sent back glowing reports.

But the standardized tests that start in grade three do exact their pound of flesh. Most of the year, Zadrima devotes one period in the seven-period day to test prep, which jumps to three periods as testing approaches. And despite her efforts to make test prep fun, says Zadrima, "Sometimes, I bore them to death."

She has a triple job: to spark a love of learning; to impart the fine art of psyching out multiple-choice questions; and for some children from chaotic homes, to be an extra Mom—which is what some of these fifth-graders accidentally call her.

But NCLB doesn't recognize the extraordinary challenges or the quality of this staff's effort, nor does it see the high overall test scores. All that matters for federal accountability purposes is that the school's special education students have flunked the test four times: Now PS 48 is on the ropes.

"For some of my students, who are close to passing, the extra push is good," says Abuin, who teaches some of those special education students. "But for others, the test is total frustration. They break down. Some refuse to take it. Some just bubble."

Because PS 48 keeps failing, the school must send parents letters informing them of their right to transfer their students to other schools that are passing AYP. Last year, about 30 families did that.

"It kills me," says Principal Roxanne Cardona. "The parents don't understand. Some of the children are going to schools that actually have lower scores than we do, but those schools are smaller, and have fewer than 30 special education students." Under NCLB, each subgroup of students must pass if it meets the minimum number of students, and in New York, that number is 30.

What will happen to PS 48 if NCLB isn't changed? Cardona has a prediction: "They'll chop our school into five mini-schools," she says. That won't boost scores, but each of the mini-schools will have fewer than 30 special education students, whose scores will be averaged in with other students, allowing each of the mini-schools to pass.

The likely benefit to students of this "reform"? None.

A Failing School That's Saving Two Generations

At just three years old, Jonathan is a bit too young for high school, but the teachers at Broadway High in Minneapolis are working hard to make sure he won’t be left behind. Most days, at 10 am, you can find Jonathan with his mom in the school’s childcare center, which is packed at that hour with babies, preschool teachers, high school teachers, and the teenage mothers who make up the student body of this alternative high school.

The mothers are playing with their children and saying goodbye before heading off to class. Later, they’ll get detailed feedback from the professionals on how they can improve the quality of that crucial mother-child communication.

This month, some of the mothers are starting a new program in which they will watch videotapes of their interactions with their children. Among other things, each mother will count how many words she speaks to her child. On average, low-income mothers talk much less with their babies and children than wealthier mothers, and many experts believe that’s one big reason why their children often start kindergarten far behind their richer age-mates. If that explanation is correct, the Broadway tots will have a leg up.

By providing a quality education for children like Jonathan, Broadway lets their mothers focus on earning high school diplomas. They can even turn young motherhood to their advantage by getting college credit for their child-care training through Minneapolis Community and Technical College. By the time they graduate from high school, students can earn enough credits to qualify for assistant teacher jobs in day-care centers.

Plus, they’ve learned to be better moms.

With its sophisticated program for teenage mothers, Broadway is educating two generations of at-risk children at once, helping them become productive, self-reliant adults.

But what credit does Broadway get for its good work from the so-called “No Child Left Behind” law?

None. In fact, less than none. By helping these young women try to lift themselves off the floor of society, Broadway has guaranteed its own failure under the federal law.

“They are a ‘failing’ school because they have always welcomed this population of students,” says Sarah Snapp, who’s in charge of the federal Title I program for the Minneapolis schools.

Broadway has failed four times, and fully expects to repeat this year. That means next year, it is supposed to prepare for “restructuring,” such as replacing the staff, even though the school is a pioneer in dropout prevention. 

Make that dropout recovery rather than prevention. Most of these girls have already dropped out, helping to spoil some other high school’s record under federal accountability rules. Broadway reels them back in, where they stand a very good chance of being counted against the Minneapolis Public Schools in federal statistics for a second time. That’s because these students are less likely than others to score proficient, less likely to have 95 percent attendance for the state test, and very unlikely to graduate in four years. About 70 percent of the students are already 18 or older.

District leaders, however, insist they’re not going to ditch this school. “They do an amazing job of keeping kids connected,” says Snapp.

That’s what science teacher Jennifer Alton loves about Broadway High: the chance to connect with kids in trouble. A former University of Minnesota horticultural scientist, Alton found high school teaching much more satisfying than working in labs, and Broadway much more satisfying than other schools. “In other settings, I had so many students that I couldn’t take the time to work with one who was lashing out. In a class of 32, you can’t. With 16 or 17, you can.” Actually, her class list is much higher, but on any given day, many of her students are absent.

The low attendance, according to special education teacher Kathryn Kindle, is partly because of illness. “They’re sick, their children are sick—it’s amazing how much school is missed because of health-related issues,” she says.

Before coming to Broadway, Kindle’s job for the school system was to go into the community and help students and their families work out school-related problems. But most regular high schools, she found, had trouble being flexible enough to accommodate the students she was trying to help. Broadway is different. “Our students are so individualized,” she says. “Their path through life is not straight. It’s very windy.” And Broadway can stay with them on that journey.

Some students come, and leave, and come back again. And eventually, many of them make it into a position of stability. One of Kindle’s girls got an internship with a Minneapolis newspaper, did well there, and is slated for a $16-an-hour job after she graduates this year. This is a special education student with problems at home who struggled for a long time at Broadway before finally getting it together.

But No Child Left Behind doesn’t celebrate winding paths, only straight ones. It doesn’t make allowances for young moms whose children are sick, or students who can’t pass the geometry test because they came to high school not knowing arithmetic.

Like San Antonio ’s Tejeda Academy, Broadway High will never meet the requirements of No Child Left Behind precisely because it refuses to leave any child behind.

Unless the law is changed.

Send comments on these stories to ajehlen@nea.org.

There Oughta Be a Better Law Congress is now working on the reauthorization of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, whose current incarnation is the so-called No Child Left Behind law. (See pages 13 and 20 for more details.) NEA is asking Congress to take out the one-size-fits-all provisions of the law, which are sinking all four of these schools and thousands more. Go to http://www.nea.org/esea/index.html for the latest developments, NEA's proposals, and how you can help with your own members of Congress.

Keeping it Real

Programs stressing real-world skills are reaching potential dropouts.

By Mary Ellen Flannery, Cynthia Kopkowski, and John Rosales

Think of an enormous societal problem—child abuse, homelessness, poverty, the proliferation of guns. Students in Massachusetts' Project COFFEE have experienced it.

More than half of these youth have serious drug problems and more than 90 percent are social users. About two-thirds have faced a courtroom judge and, last year, nearly a quarter missed school because they were waking up in jail or drug treatment centers. More than three-quarters have some kind of disability. More than a third take medication for attention and oppositional defiant disorders or other problems. And all are at risk of dropping out.

This Massachusetts community is not alone. Nationally, nearly a third of public school students fail to graduate with their class. With students all over the country—from blue Hawaii to gray New England—carrying increasingly heavy loads in life, programs that emphasize work-related skills, like Project COFFEE, help keep them in school and focused. For some, they make all the difference.

Edward deJesus, an expert on dropout prevention and president and founder of the Youth Development and Research Fund, says when teachers or mentors talk to young people about careers and help them cultivate their interests, it keeps students engaged in the education process. "When kids begin to picture themselves in the workforce," says deJesus, "they're learning who they are, what they want to do, what their talents are."

That's why increasing career education and workforce readiness programs in schools is a key point in the Dropout Prevention Plan NEA unveiled last year (see the full plan at http://www.nea.org/dropout).

NEA Today writers looked at three programs in strikingly different locations where educators have seen work-study and career education programs reach students in danger of dropping out and keep them on the path to a diploma.

There's More to Life than Bling

Project COFFEE (Co-Operative Federation for Educational Experience), an alternative middle and high school that serves an hour-wide ring around Oxford, Massachusetts, is the trailblazer in dropout prevention. It's been nearly 30 years since Oxford's educators first combined academic and occupational education with the specific goal of preventing kids from dropping out. Since then, hundreds of would-be dropouts have earned diplomas, and Project COFFEE has served as a national model for keeping kids in school.

In the mornings, students attend extremely small academic classes (no more than eight students). In the afternoons, an equal amount of time is spent on occupational instruction, where they might be nailing together sheds for local homeowners or fixing a customer's snow-blower engine in one of five different vocational shops. It's real work—not "classroom" assignments—and the students are responsible for scoping out the job, determining the materials needed, going to Home Depot, and doing all of the things that legitimate contractors do, start to finish.

"For a lot of these kids, it's the first time in their education where they can stand back and say, 'Look at what I did,' and be legitimately proud," says Project COFFEE Counselor Nancy James.

It's all about making it real.

"We're trying to show these kids that there is another life—and that life can bring them the kinds of rewards that perhaps are more meaningful than a lot of bling," says James, who has been at the school for 16 years.

There are challenges: Like the 13-year-old who was picked up at 2 a.m. by local police, $400 in his pocket, two 20-something gang members by his side. Since coming to Project COFFEE, he's been locked up for various drugs and weapons charges. Now he's out of jail, but his mother's in. When James asked him how she was coping, he said, "Oh, she's OK. My aunt's there, too, keeping her company."

And there are successes. Last year, a recovering drug addict returned to Project COFFEE after a stint in rehab, wearing a 30-day Alcoholics Anonymous pin on his lapel. James gave him a congratulatory card, which he showed around school—"Nobody has ever given me a card before!" he said.

He graduated, stayed sober, and now he drives trucks for a soda distribution company—making a good salary and, as he likes to say, "with full benefits, too."

With a Little Help from My Mentor

Convincing students to stay in school and work toward long-term goals like college and a job can be a lot easier with the help of someone who has actually accomplished those same goals. That's the idea behind Project Connect, a federally funded Des Moines, Iowa, public school program that partners mentors from the community and teachers with students who are at risk of dropping out.

Teachers and mentors—a group that includes medical workers, bank presidents, and engineers—work in concert to help students gain a positive view of school. The roughly 170 mentors commit to one hour a week, each week, for at least a year. "When school is a positive place and [students] know people there care about them and the mentor is a part of that school team, it increases attendance," says program director Barbara Anderson.

Once students are in the door, community members help nurture their career interests, and then, working in conjunction with teachers, show how their coursework relates to those goals. This past year, a retired mentor who worked with Iowa state government during his career arranged for several students to tour the state Capitol and visit several legislators. Another mentor, a graphic designer, brought her laptop computer to school and worked with her student on projects.

Sixth-grade language arts and reading teacher Lynne Albright watches her student's eyes light up as the clock approaches mentor arrival time. "It builds enthusiasm in the students for learning," says Albright, who works at one of the 14 schools that host mentors.

The success of the program lies in part with how educators like Albright strengthen the link between what kids learn in class and what they get from their mentors. Teachers conduct review sessions for mentors on reading and math strategies (which in some cases starts with a class full of adults anxiously trying to remember how to add fractions, says Anderson). At mentor recruiting fairs, teachers give inspirational talks to those involved with the program.

"What they're trying to do, what any of us are trying to do, is to let those children see the opportunities that are out there for them now and in the future," says fourth-grade teacher Elizabeth Bleeker. She works closely with the mentors, advising them when they come to meet with students about whether the child is having a good or a bad day, and how they're doing academically.

Anderson recalls one sixth-grade boy who struggled to read at a second-grade level. Turns out, his mother couldn't read. With the help of his mentor, who supplemented classroom instruction, he went from failing coursework to getting C's and B's. "You can just imagine how much more pleasant school is for him," Anderson says. From the beginning of last year to the end of the year, absenteeism decreased 35 percent for all participants.

While Project Connect focuses its efforts at the middle and elementary school levels, Des Moines students aren't forgotten as they transition to high school. That's when a companion program, Intensive Career Exploration, picks up. Each year, up to 500 students earn credit for career-based courses, such as business, agriscience, or technology—plus they have opportunities for paid employment in their field of interest, too. Working alongside education support professionals in their own schools or in businesses in the community, "they see how their skills are applied in the workplace" says Karen Ligas, the program coordinator.

The teachers who coordinate the work-study programs, including Ligas, communicate regularly with the students' job supervisors. "It's a unique way for the teachers to have an additional mentoring role with the students," says Ligas, "to build on the relationships they already have with them."

Hangin' Loose and Hangin' On

It's not the glorious beaches and made-for-surfing waves that educators at Honolulu's President William McKinley High School worry will tempt their students to ditch classes. And although high schoolers there face the usual host of adolescent temptations, there's something else teachers fear will lure them away from school for good: a steady paycheck from one of the city's many hotels, restaurants, and spas.

No one on the McKinley staff wants to discourage students with a self-reliant streak. But when some young adults discover that they don't necessarily need a high school diploma to get a full-time job in the city's booming tourist industry, some drop out. "Why bother with a diploma," they figure, "if I can start pulling a paycheck right now? What will another year of tests and homework get me?"

It turns out, that little piece of paper means quite a bit of cash over a person's working years. High school dropouts earn only 65 percent of what people who have high school degrees make, according to a 2006 study by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development. A diploma keeps young adults' prospects open for better job opportunities and further education.

It's sometimes hard to reach teenagers with that message, especially those trying to help their parents make ends meet. But McKinley staff says drawing a close connection between what they teach in their classes and why students will need it in the working world goes a long way to keeping kids engaged in school.

The school's Occupational Skills Program (OSP) is a six-week work-study curriculum that places students in temporary jobs throughout the city, from the hotel and restaurant industry to beauty salons, video production firms, manufacturing plants, and even the Honolulu Zoo. It's just one of nine dropout prevention programs at McKinley High.

OSP students generally work up to 15 hours per week, from 8 to 11 a.m., Monday through Friday, for school credit, not pay. Meyer says the program provides not only job training, but real-world lessons about workplace protocol, punctuality, and the importance of school learning. "When [students] experience work sites or colleges," says Meyer, "they see that they have to have the reading, writing, and math skills."

Some of these short-term work assignments may lead to a job after the student graduates, but they all require the student to stay in school—those who drop out not only lose the job but also the job reference from the employer.

Apart from the OSP, teachers at McKinley seize opportunities to reveal the "real-world" aspects of their lessons, too. The school's popular Aquaculture class was designed by science teacher Geoffrey Au not only to fulfill biology requirements, but also to provide students with job training.

"The students have been around fish all their lives and this [class] shows them a way they can earn a living at something they are already familiar with," Au says. After taking his class, some of his students are able to secure part-time jobs at local fish farms.

Or they can nurture their work ethics at McKinley and take off in a different direction. Healani Mathews, a student who calls Au "my second dad," says Au is helping him gear up to go to college after graduation. "I love Aquaculture class because of him, and I like working with fish. It reminds me of the kind of work my grandfather used to do."

Send your comments on this story to jrosales@nea.org.

For more on our continuing coverage of dropout prevention programs, head to http://www.nea.org/dropout/index.html.

All Hands on Deck

Keep volunteers on board to lighten the load and motivate students.

by Tim Walker

Schools with thriving volunteer programs know that a volunteer's contributions can go far beyond relieving teachers of minor tasks (though help with the little things is much appreciated). Whether assisting teachers in classroom activities, helping out with long-term projects, leading small group activities, or instructing students one-on-one in a particular subject, dedicated volunteers can become valuable partners in the students' learning process.

The teachers we interviewed say the efforts they put into keeping volunteers engaged have obvious benefits—their students achieve higher grades, have better attendance and behavior, complete more homework, are more motivated to learn, and demonstrate a more positive attitude toward education.

Are you making the most of the time and talents that people from your community are willing to donate? Here's some advice from teachers who are.

Tap into their talents

Over the years, the pool of potential school volunteers has changed dramatically. No longer the exclusive domain of parents, now schools actively recruit people from the business community, retired citizens, and college students.

There are volunteers in all corners of the community who will give happily of their time to help local schools—especially when presented with a project that's compelling to them. Members of the business community, for example, are interested in shaping keen business minds for the future, and older Americans value the sense of helping the younger generation. (Check out "Math Buddies" on the opposite page to read about a school that invites businesspeople to help elementary students with math.)

Many workplaces encourage their employees to volunteer and have programs that schools can tap into. Deborah Finkenbeim, a literacy coach at King Elementary in Little Rock, Arkansas, works with 28 volunteers from the Arkansas Children's Hospital as part of Little Rock's Volunteering in Public Schools program.

"The volunteers who participate in our Reading Aloud Renaissance program come from many professional fields," says Finkenbeim. "We have graphic designers, lab technicians, office managers, and nurses. They all come in every week to read to a class for half an hour."

Other volunteers might help with activity preparations, read with individual students, tutor in math or language arts, or assist children with homework.

Organize and communicate

Stephanie Jones, in addition to being a special education teacher, is the volunteer coordinator at Love Grove Elementary in Jacksonville, Florida. In that capacity she's a liaison between the school faculty and volunteers, working with an average of 175 to 250 volunteers annually. Every year, she must first fill the roster of volunteers, which can be draining.

"You'll get responses like 'I don't have the time' or 'You have to call the corporate office,'" Jones says. But she says not to let rejections throw you off course and that "a positive attitude and presentation can have a great effect on prospective volunteers."

Once volunteers are on board, keeping the lines of communication open is crucial.

"I really try to get to know our volunteers on a personal basis," says Finkenbeim, "because it is important for them to feel comfortable if they ever have any questions concerning their assignments." Finkenbeim works with a coordinator who actually finds the volunteers, then she matches them up with the appropriate teacher. All the volunteers at King Elementary have her

e-mail address, which allows them to stay in touch every day.

The educators we spoke to offer the following advice on key ways that classroom educators can build a stronger relationship with volunteers:

Conduct orientation and training sessions

Always provide clear instructions and explain expectations to volunteers

Make sure the volunteer is comfortable with the academic task

Try to strike the right balance between guiding and helping the volunteer and empowering them to try their own ideas.

Reap the benefits

Different volunteer groups bring different talents and expertise and different, equally valuable, results. School staff witness, for example, how parent volunteers, with their deeper understanding of families and their needs, can significantly improve school ties to the students' families. Stronger communication with parents through a volunteering program can also create more valuable parent-teacher conferences and a better understanding of different types of families and cultural backgrounds.

Schools in Maryland have seen firsthand the benefits of their senior citizen volunteer program. A 2005 study by the University of Maryland revealed that in schools where older Americans were a regular fixture, reading scores went up and administrators reported fewer behavioral problems than at other schools.

Deborah Finkenbeim sees two significant effects volunteers from community organizations have on her students. "One of the best things about our program is that our volunteers stress to our students the importance of getting out in the community and making it a better place. And the students' joy and love of reading has gone up dramatically!"

Background Checks

With student safety a paramount concern in all schools, any unknown person coming into the building must be viewed as a potential threat—including volunteers.

At Stephanie Jones' school in Jacksonville,background checks are conducted on volunteers when they start and then every two years thereafter, required under Florida law. All prospective volunteers complete a form that gets sent to the district Community Involvement Department where the background check is conducted. Every volunteer coordinator in Florida also receives Predator Updates from the state attorney's office.

Elsewhere, many districts that are considering implementing such a policy express concerns that background checks might deter would-be volunteers and that the information provided by applicants would become public record. Still, background checks, whether mandated at the state or district level, are a modern-day reality for many school volunteers.

Math Buddies Faced with flagging math results, Martin Luther King Elementary in Vancouver, Washington, partnered with volunteers from high-tech industries, banks, and other businesses to initiate the Math Buddies volunteer program in the spring of 2007. The idea is that bringing engineers, accountants, and business executives—people who use math every day—into the classroom to work with students instills a sense of fun into the subject. One day a week, the volunteers visit the school and meet one-on-one with students in grades 3, 4, and 5 to play research-based math games. "We give [volunteers] information about the math concepts we're working on at the time," says fourth-grade teacher Julie Spencer. "Last spring we utilized the Math Buddies primarily for multiplication strategies, as that was the greatest area of support my students needed." Adds third-grade teacher Sonja Nevin: "I'll meet with the volunteer and share the math areas his or her 'buddy' needs help with at that time. If the volunteer has any questions or concerns, we will come up with a plan to help the student." Although the program is still in its infancy, teachers at King Elementary are already seeing a difference in student confidence and improvement in math skills. "The program works because the students really enjoy having the relationship with the adult," explains Spencer. To track progress, all volunteers fill out an information sheet letting the teacher know what was accomplished during tutoring time and how well the student performed the tasks. Staff at King Elementary are excited that the Math Buddies program may become a model for other schools. After the program was touted at a recent principals meeting, the Vancouver school district is exploring ways to bring Math Buddies to other schools in the area.

 

Visit our discussion boards to share ideas on working with volunteers in your classroom.