I have taught in two worlds, though they are separated by only a few short miles. The schools share similarities. But the contrasts continue to haunt me.
My first teaching job was at the Academy for Scholastic Achievement (ASA), an alternative high school for dropouts and teenage mothers on Chicago's West Side. We served about 90 students who, like 80 percent of their neighborhood peers, did not make it through high school the first time around.
One day we received a call from New Trier High School, which serves about 3,000 students in Chicago's wealthy North Shore suburbs. They had some old books they wanted to donate. Several days later, two colleagues drove up to Winnetka to pick up the books. When they returned, they had remarkable tales. "I went to the bathroom, and a couple kids in there were discussing a math problem. One of them even had his calculator out. . . ."
After two years at ASA, I spent the next two years teaching 6th grade in Maryland, earned my master's degree, and got married. Today I teach at New Trier. I have now experienced the extremes in American education, teaching in the two neighborhoods Jonathan Kozol chronicles in chapter two of Savage Inequalities.
The two communities have a few interesting things in common. Some of the same streets run through both. Both have been featured in articles on drugs. The mood of each is elevated every time Michael Jordan leads the Bulls to victory. But at the same time, they are diametric opposites.
Living the Stories Others Read
Many New Trier students are aware they are advantaged, and they reach out to those less fortunate. Some volunteer at soup kitchens or tutoring centers. Several school events raise money for charities. One class reads There Are No Children Here by Alex Kotlowitz, a book that describes life in a West Side housing project.
I read the book when it came out and I was at ASA. One of my students saw me carrying it and asked me if it was the "Craig" book. She was referring to Craig Davis, a character in the book who was killed by a police officer. I soon found out that he was also the father of her daughter. I talked to her and the school's social worker at length, bought her a copy of the book, and brought her to a book signing to meet the author. Lafeyette, one of the book's main characters, would later enroll at the Academy for Scholastic Achievement.
While it was enlightening to relate to one student's story, many had problems I had difficulty understanding. When students neared graduation from ASA, it was a challenge to get them to enroll in college or a job training program. Ideally, we wanted our graduates to return to help their communities. But we knew that in the short run, they needed to escape the mean streets.
I recall how one graduate who did not find work showed up four months after graduation with his arm in a sling. A woman had walked up to him, told him she had a gun in her pocket, and demanded his wallet. When he called her bluff, he was fortunate only to be hit in the shoulder. Two years ago, I read in the newspaper that another former ASA student of mine was not so lucky.
Death and violence also visit New Trier, but they are not as pervasive as in the inner city. One student last year lost her life after a long fight with cancer. New Trier swung into action, reaching out to her friends and letting students know that counseling was available. Students even raised money for cancer charities.
The Luxury of High Expectations
New Trier graduates have different reasons for wanting to leave the area when they graduate, reasons having more to do with establishing independence than safety. And they do move on. Unlike teachers who must remind their students to consider college, a New Trier teacher might face a stack of 100 college recommendations to write.
One afternoon, I was standing in front of ASA just after school. A father in a gas station uniform came to pick up his son. Having grown up in a wealthy suburb, I initially felt embarrassed for the student. After thinking about it, however, I realized how lucky the student was to have his father pick him up. The other students were jealous.
I have met many excellent parents in both communities, in addition to a few dysfunctional families. While problems in the inner city often stem from parents lacking power and high expectations, problems in the suburbs stem from parents with an unreasonable sense of entitlement. A few years ago a teacher at New Trier was even taken to court for giving a D to a student whose father, a lawyer, insisted she was not below average.
The New Trier community, however, is the school's greatest asset. One of my colleagues required students to interview professionals who use math in their careers. She did not help any of them find their subjects. When the assignments came in, she was overwhelmed. Not only did all the students have a relative or neighbor who fit the description, but almost all of them found someone who uses high-level mathematics in academia or engineering. Such a community does much more to increase student interest in academics than a school alone ever could.
Oddly enough, my only former student who has gone on to a renowned career is from the West Side. Known as Da Brat, she is one of the most famous female rappers. Though many of her classmates had college potential, only a few lived up to it. Most settled for low-wage jobs similar to the ones they grew up around. If it were not for ASA, however, even fewer would have had any success; many would be on welfare or in jail. My current students, on the other hand, will spend a lot more time in school after they graduate from New Trier.
These differences have a huge impact on academic skills. Most SAT problems I went over with my ASA students used two or three unfamiliar concepts. The same problems, to New Trier students, involved applying concepts they already knew. The average student entering the Academy for Scholastic Achievement was 16 and tested at the 6th grade level. We knew that these tests had nothing to do with ability; the same students would test two or three grades higher six months later. But these students still would not be able to compete at New Trier, where most incoming freshmen test at the junior or senior level.
Spare Paper and Future Debates
Teachers also experience enormous differences in professional support. At ASA, I spent 300 minutes in the classroom each day, as opposed to 200 minutes at New Trier. Much of the remainder of the school day was spent supervising. There was no good place for me to get work done. At New Trier, while some noninstructional time is used for supervision and meetings, much is left for planning lessons, grading papers, and assisting students. We have our own desks, and computers are available. When I was at ASA, I crossed my fingers every day hoping that the one copier was working. I kept paper in my car for the days when the school ran out. ASA has to be frugal. It spends less than half the money per student that New Trier does.
There was talk this year in Illinois of narrowing the gaps in school funding by decreasing property taxes paid to school townships and increasing state income taxes. Our Republican governor supported the bill, but our Republican legislature rejected it because legislators feared they would be unable to explain income tax increases to suburban voters. Schools in poorer areas in Illinois will continue to face greater problems with fewer dollars. Nobody involved in the funding debate suggested what our state and national goals call for: maintaining excellence at schools like New Trier while lifting up schools in need.
Making a Different Difference
At the book signing, Alex Kotlowitz signed my copy, "To David, Who knows and cares and is making a difference." It is now six years later, and I am no longer making a difference in the same way.
Sometimes I wonder whether I should return to the Academy for Scholastic Achievement, where I started teaching, where in many ways the needs are greater. However, when I think of the additional obstacles for teachers in the city, I find it difficult to leave New Trier. Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned is that the essential aspect of education is the same no matter where you are: reaching out to young people and helping them learn. Such a humanitarian profession offers many successes and failures. I am wiser for having experienced the successes and failures in two such different communities.
