Good evening, Dr. Merrill, Dr. Magula, School Board members, administrators, fellow teachers of the year, and guests. I am so honored to speak to you tonight. It was a great surprise when Dr. Merrill and his entourage walked into my classroom last May and announced that I was the 2009 Virginia Beach Teacher of the Year. Virginia Beach has so many outstanding educators that it didn’t even cross my mind that I would be selected. I almost didn’t complete the application, but after some consideration, I decided that I could not pass up this opportunity to communicate my beliefs to people who were willing to listen. It was a chance to share my passion about alternative education, an idea that seems finally to have come around. I field a lot of questions about what exactly Open Campus is. I hope tonight to give you a basic understanding of alternative education and why these programs are essential to the continued success of our school system and
our city.
I’ll start with my first experience with alternative education. I walked into my first class as a teacher, nervous that my inexperience would show through the calm confidence I sought to project. I was merely twenty-one, and looked even younger. I had no experience in the classroom, had only completed one education class, and there I was teaching a night class full of at-risk ninth graders for three hours straight. These students had much more experience failing than I had teaching— some were taking the class for the third or fourth time. We were a motley crew: underachievers, teen parents, juvenile delinquents, and the inexperienced teacher from a sheltered background who looked like a teenager. We muddled through the curriculum, and I can confidently say that they learned the genres of literature from me, but I learned a great deal more from them. Everyday was an experiment. During the day I studied educational theories and practices, and during the evening I got to test these ideas with my own little focus group.
My post at an alternative school surprised many people, most of all me. People would ask, “You work there?” and I would explain, “It’s actually not that bad.” Now I wouldn’t have had it any other way. My experience in alternative education has given me the impetus and courage to take risks in my teaching. My students have opened my mind. I have become more empathetic.
If you visit our website you’ll read that “Open Campus is a flexible, accelerated, alternative center where older high school students and adults can successfully complete courses toward a high school diploma or its equivalent. Students considering attending Open Campus must have completed the eighth grade, be at least 17 years of age, and be at least two years behind academically. To meet the needs of this diverse student population, we offer day, afternoon, and evening classes.” We serve a wide range of students, from those academically behind, to those placed with us through Student Leadership for discipline reasons, to those who moved from another 4x4 schedule during the middle of the school year and could only come to us so their credits could correctly transfer.
To put a face on my students, I assign a personal narrative early in the year, having them reflect on their life experiences. They often tell heart-wrenching stories. Tasha was abandoned by immature parents and is striving to forgive their choices. Angela faced health issues that caused her to get behind in school. John struggled with motivation after his mom passed away. Troy says that he can only blame himself for the poor choices that he made in his school career, but is working to change his fate. Don’t these students deserve a second chance? Shouldn’t we do all that we can to give it to them? It is in their best interest and our best interest as the community in which they live. As I tell them: everyday is a new chance to make the right decision.
These kids deserve the best that we can give them. To make school relevant to their lives, they read high-interest literature and apply critical thinking concepts with twenty-first century skills. The students record podcasts about issues they choose and create videos related to literature. They compile their best work into digital portfolios and then we invite guests at the end of the year to view their unique accomplishments. The students are so proud of their portfolios as they show them off. They have gained essential skills from the curriculum, twenty-first century competencies, and the confidence that they can do what they once thought was impossible.
Throughout the year they are constantly revising and reflecting. Students are motivated when they have a voice in their education, instead of just a letter representing their accomplishments from a whole year. When students think and create, rather than just pick one answer out of four, they develop character as well as their unique set of skills. If teachers dignify their students’ time with meaningful tasks, they show them the value of hard work on something that is relevant to their lives. As we teach them to constantly reflect and evaluate their work, we are instilling in them a sense of accountability to themselves. When they embrace the idea of constantly assessing their performance, they realize that every endeavor is an occasion to grow, that every mistake is a chance to step closer to perfection.
Alternative students are often a magnifying glass on problems of the larger community because they are more prone and less afraid to speak up about their frustrations. As a division we can learn from these students, if we are astute enough to interpret their message. My duty, both to them and to the division, is to amplify and articulate the message of these often marginalized members of the learning community. We must be accountable to them if we expect accountability from them.
It is my pleasure to teach American literature. In doing so, everyday I walk the line between formal language and slang, history and hip-hop, events of national importance and the traumatic experiences of teenage life. I try to occupy the place where the past, the present, the individual, and the universal collide. I have found this place in literature and writing, and strive to share it with my students. It is always interesting to get their takes on the classics. Here’s The Great Gatsby in a nutshell: “Dude just got mixed up with the wrong shorty.” That’s exactly right! The Crucible: “Those girls were wilin’ out.” Yes, they were.
I am turning to literature tonight as I seek to explain some of my hopes for the future. I know that I will seem the quintessential English teacher, as I have found a historical poem I would like to share with you. I bet you have heard it before, and perhaps even been to the site where it is engraved. Maybe some of you had parents, grandparents, or great-grand parents who passed through the “sunset gates” mentioned in the poem. In these lines, written in 1883 and engraved on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty in 1903, Emma Lazurus demonstrates an essential American ideal and a core value of any teacher: optimism. She proposes that a monument in a young country could take the place of one of the Seven Wonders of the World, that our statue could become a “New Colossus.” Here’s Emma Lazurus’ poem:
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
I wouldn’t be surprised if Emma Lazurus was reincarnated somewhere as an alternative teacher. Her Lady Liberty audaciously tells the rest of the world, “Keep your pageantry; we’re not interested. But we do want the people you don’t: your poor, homeless, and storm-weary. We’ll give them a home and a chance at a better life.” Lady Liberty’s acceptance of all people and desire to inspire echoes the values of the most successful teachers.
In the same way that Ms. Lazurus had great expectations for young America, I have great expectations for the new Renaissance Academy. Virginia Beach is constructing a state-of-the-art building that will give a permanent home to the often nomadic alternative schools. Some people may balk at spending $65 million dollar on a school for students they consider unworthy. I really can’t think of any better way to spend that money. This is an investment in our future. It is an opportunity to make Virginia Beach a city that proactively provides for our students who need the most dire aid. It is a chance to further the many options that we already offer students. It is my hope that the Renaissance Academy will be more than just a building; it will be a revolutionary approach to learning for at-risk students. A “New Colossus.”
We all know that the theme of the decade is leaving no child behind: children of different races and genders, of different abilities and socio-economic status. Across the country, alternative learners have been the most needy, and yet the most excluded. At-risk students are a diverse group: they are from special education and gifted backgrounds, from single-parent and two-parent homes, from housing projects and wealthy neighborhoods. The one factor that unites them is that somewhere along the way, the educational system failed them. Our educational system. This failure leads to them acting out or turning off, biding their time until they can drop out, and often disrupting those who are learning through traditional means. The Renaissance Academy is key to recapturing the interest of these students. Giving students options in their education is a must in the twenty-first century.
Societal problems have deeper roots than education, but as educators, we have the power to drive societal change. We cannot fix all of the problems in our students’ lives, but we can help them discover productive ways to use their talents. Change does not happen suddenly, but by gradually breaking down negative attitudes-- both of our students and towards our students-- and replacing them with understanding and compassion. As a nation, we recognize diversity as strength. As a school system, we are responsible for fostering this diversity. This responsibility entails awareness of the diverse ways that students learn, and mutual respect for all people. The “one-size fits all” approach is obsolete; differentiation is now our choice. Virginia Beach has recognized this by offering many educational options, rather than just one school that students must attend. The next step is to build respect for all of these options.
We need to stop thinking about alternative schools as punitive, and start recognizing them as an opportunity to reach all students. Like our comprehensive schools, they strive to develop compassionate life-long learners who will serve their community in diverse ways. These programs aim to turn students back onto learning by showing them the varied paths that learning takes. Teachers recapture student interest by building rapport, celebrating individuality, and approaching learning in refreshing ways. Alternative schools should not be labeled as dangerous, disciplinary, or undemanding, but as a respectable option for students who face additional challenges. Taxpayers should recognize these programs as the best use of their money. If we can educate more students now, we can redirect their potential to help themselves and serve others.
I personally, along with the other portable dwellers at Open Campus, will especially appreciate one of the building’s features: a roof. Goodbye portables, hello state-of-the-art building! Now we may look forward to rainy days so that we can fill up our cistern, one of the many eco-friendly features of the building.
There are, of course, many people who guided and inspired me.
To my fellow teachers: Three weeks ago I floated down Atlantic Avenue through twenty blocks of cheering fans as I represented Virginia Beach teachers in the Neptune Festival Parade. They weren’t cheering for what I did, but what all of you do. These people didn’t know me, but they did know the outstanding reputations of the over 5000 teachers in our school division. I wished that all of you could have been on that float with me to soak up the praise that you work so hard for. Thank you for being so good at what you do.
The leadership of our secondary English Department is consistently outstanding. Fran Sharer and Robin Hoffman provide such a clear vision of literacy in the twenty-first century, and the tools teachers need to make our students literate citizens. You have encouraged me to take risks, to push my students and myself to the next level. You recognize teachers’ diverse strengths and give us a voice. Thank you.
To my parents Jack and Linda Crocker, I don’t feel that I really appreciated you until I started teaching and saw that not every child has a loving home like the one you provided. You were at every school function, swim meet, and horrible band recital. You valued family, community, and education. Thank you for your love and your strong example.
My husband Andy renews my spirit every day. He has attended every Open Campus prom with a smile on his face and even came early and stayed late to set up and break down. He is the most right-brained person I know, and full of creative ideas, anecdotes, and energy. I couldn’t think of a better person to share my life with.
My principal, Mr. Joshua Darden, is a model of selfless dedication. In his 47 years of service to Virginia Beach Schools he has touched so many lives through teaching, coaching, and leading. Luckily for us at Open Campus, he came back from retirement to lead us through the challenging time of our relocation from Green Run to Central Academy. He is a graduate of Princess Anne Country Training School, the segregated high school that formerly occupied the site of our new Renaissance Academy. He is a living legend, and a reminder of the great distance we have travelled in education in the past half century. Thank you, Mr. Darden.
Even though we have travelled this great distance in including all students, we still have a ways to go. I feel confident that we are on the right path to making Virginia Beach a city that truly reaches out to all. My hope for acceptance for alternative students is not just an empty dream, but an essential American ideal, captured by Emma Lazarus in her belief in a “New Colossus.”
I hope that this will be a fitting motto for the new school, for that is exactly what it should do: lovingly accept all students, treat them with dignity, and light the way for them making new lives for themselves.
