Ako

While studying abroad in New Zealand during college, I came across the Maori word ako, reflecting the inherent reciprocity of teaching and learning – the idea that both teachers and students can teach and can learn. It struck me as potentially the most important concept educators can remember when teaching, especially when teaching populations of students with very different backgrounds from their own. We as educators must embrace our own education everyday, which we receive from our students, our peers, administrators, community members, and ourselves. We have the unique profession in which real success is based solely on the outcomes of our students, and in order to best serve them we must continually reflect on and revise our own teaching.

A few months ago I found myself in conversation with some family members about my new job as a tutor at City on a Hill. In trying to explain why I love it so much, I let slip a confession – I actually feel bad for other recent college graduates, even those thriving in the “real world,” because they don’t have my job. My family was unconvinced that this could be true – being a tutor means long hours, low pay, school on Saturday mornings, and hours of lesson planning. To most, it doesn’t make sense.

I realize I have now joined the chorus of educators who continuously refer to the gratification in their work. When I started tutoring at City on a Hill, I couldn’t wait to find out what this gratification actually felt like. What does that ambiguous feeling of fulfillment truly mean? Would I feel it? Would it make the challenging work worth it?

I explained to my family that I am getting as much out of my job as I hope my students are; that I am embracing the idea of ako. The secret may be different for every educator, but as a first year tutor, I find gratification in knowing that as much as I can possibly teach my students, I will continually be surprised by what I learn from them.

Every tutorial class is different from the one before, and each brings fresh challenges requiring creativity and patience. I am getting to know my students’ unique personalities and dispositions and I am figuring out how to plan our classes to accommodate those. My students are teaching me how to motivate them each individually, how to make our lessons relevant, and how to help them achieve in school.  I am continually surprised  - by their intelligence, their wit, their attitudes, opinions, and pure unpredictability, which I am learning to embrace with an open mind.

I came to City on a Hill along a very different path from the students I teach. But acknowledging and appreciating the discrepancy in our experiences enables us to learn from each other. As I have been a successful student my entire life, helping my students who sometimes struggle has been challenging and at times frustrating. My students bring life experiences to which I have never before been exposed, and yet are as important to their education and mine as Shakespeare and the American Revolution. They teach me about themselves, their lives, and the way they see the world; which in turn teaches me about myself, and the way I see the world.

And so I explained to my family that while I am sure there are plenty of other rewarding jobs, I have found a community that embraces and encourages our ability as students and educators to continually grow and improve. As an educator at City on a Hill, I am systematically a part of the continual reform and improvement of the education we provide – a reflection of just how much every member of our school learns everyday.

There is no way to tell for sure that embracing the idea of ako is the key to helping students succeed, but I know that it is enabling all of us to become better citizens and life long students. I hope I can teach my students in a year as much as they have already taught me in the first quarter.

Emily McCaffrey is a first year CoaHCORPS Tutor at City on a Hill.  She received her B.A. from Boston University, where she studied Political Science, Education, and International Development.

In Memory

Sean Jackson, City on a Hill 2003 alumnus, graduated from the “Old” City on a Hill.  “Old CoaH” lived in the YMCA on 320 Huntington Ave. for over ten years.  An historical landmark as one of the oldest urban YMCA’s in America, our time there consisted of giant hissing steam pipes, random power outages followed by all-building fire alarms, cracked-tile swim classes, and everyone’s favorite open-campus lunch when students could leave the building to eat anywhere in the neighborhood so long as they returned to school in thirty minutes.  Now, City on a Hill resides in Roxbury just down the street from Dudley Square in the old St. Joseph’s Catholic School.  Before, we were renters.  Now we are owners, permanent members of the community in which our students reside.  

In October, when I walked into Mt. Olive Kingdom Builders Church to celebrate Sean’s life after his sudden and premature passing, I was not taken aback by the number of people in attendance – the church teemed, people stacked outside the stone doorways craning their necks to join the service.  What struck me was the dominant number of City on a Hill graduates present from the classes of ‘02, ‘03, and ’04.  They sat together in tight pods throughout the congregation, shoulders pressed.  Ms. Pratt, Ms. Accime, two present students, and I attended the memorial.

We stood in line and waited to pay our respects.  What everyone remembered most about Sean was his smile:  a true, joyful smile.  Sean had perfect dimples in the center of both cheeks.  He smiled when he spoke and smiled when he listened.  The corners of his smile effortlessly pointed to rhinestone stud earrings he always sported.  True style.  Always looking smooth, Sean had the sharp haircut mandatory of a starting member of the basketball team.  Sean loved to run hoop, the CoaH Blue Storm won the State Championship with Sean at point.  Most members of the team were present at the service. 

Sean earned a full ride to the University of Vermont; he transferred to Bridgewater State his sophomore year to be closer to home and play basketball.  Like many of City on a Hill’s graduates, the biggest obstacle to college completion for Sean was tuition.  Though Sean was still working to finish his degree, he embodied a central pillar of City on a Hill’s mission: he consistently served his community.  Every summer, he worked for the YMCA helping with a camp, which developed into after-school mentorship and tutorial.  Weekdays and weekends he worked at different Y branches and for Boston Public after school programs mentoring and coaching.   Like his smile, everyone spoke of Sean’s altruism and of being touched by the cheer of this thoughtful and present young man who gently cared for grade school boys and girls as if they were his younger brothers and sisters. 

Waiting to pay our respects, we planned to hold a Town Meeting later that week and dedicate it to Sean.  Former classmates would come and fill the back of City on a Hill’s new auditorium.  Darrus Sands would speak of his memories of Sean, and describe how Sean was a model for him, his classmates, and his community and hope for the sake of Boston that future graduates of City on a Hill would follow in Sean’s footsteps and dedicate their lives to service.  We would hold a moment of silence, like moments of silence we had held many times before.  Only this time for one of our own.   

The line of mourners slowly reached the front of the church.  As I turned from paying my respects at the foot of the alter, I caught the eyes of the City on a Hill alumni and Central Y staff throughout the congregation and, for a moment, Mt. Olive Kingdom Builders Church was transformed back into Town Meeting in the Teen Center Auditorium on Huntington Ave ten years ago.  A Town Meeting consisting of thoughtful silence, or raucous celebration, or eloquent verbal parry, or spontaneous bawdy cheering, or even standstill boredom.  Same as our Town Meetings today.  And we were all together, smiling, along with Sean, celebrating the peace and safety of our open community looking forward to the uncertain future and our role in it together.

Dr. Paul Hays is a founding teacher and the current Principal of City on a Hill.  He began his 18+ years in public education in 1992 as a Teach For America Corps member in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  A certified science teacher and high school administrator, Dr. Hays holds a B.A. from Denison University, an M.A.T. from Union College, and a Doctorate in Education Administration from Boston University.  

"Imagination is the capacity to think of things as if they could be otherwise." - Maxine Greene

My first year out of my Master’s program, I taught ninth and tenth grade English at one of Boston Public’s monstrous high schools (~1,000 kids). I came in bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to work hard and change lives. I had read countless books, I had written countless papers, and I had rocked student teaching. Oh, yes. I was ready.

…Actually, no, I wasn’t. None of those books, none of those papers, and none of my student teaching experiences had prepared me for a constantly-changing roster that assigned 36 kids to a room with only 31 seats (“Don’t worry—they’ll never all be here,” another teacher said); 120-minute blocks; and an administration that was so hands-off that unless a student was puking or bleeding, I had to take care of it myself. If I assigned a detention, the student was serving it with me; if the student didn’t show up, I had the power to suspend. Within the first week, there was a huge fight involving ripped out earrings, broken glass, a metal stapler, blood, and a concussion in the room next door. Unfortunately, that was only the beginning of the violence that my students and I had to witness that year.

Here’s a journal entry that I wrote on October 24, 2005:

I have come to realize that teaching in this school is a lot like riding a terrifying roller coaster...in the dark.

When you walk in every morning, you have no idea whether it will be a good day or a bad day. You work hard to make it a good day. You plan like mad, you get to school at 6:00am to prepare, you try to be ready for anything. But then you go and screw it up. You make a few mistakes. Small, but crucial. The day begins to unravel. The kids feel it. You feel it. You try not to show it, but the tension in your voice is too obvious to hide. Your frustration builds. Their frustration builds. You lose what you've worked so hard for the past month and a half to gain: their attention, their respect, their effort. The class is lost. Gone. Unfortunately, you teach two-hour blocks...so you still have 100 minutes to go.

And by the time your day ends, you are so exhausted that you can barely throw the broken pieces of your brand new bathroom pass away without crumbling. You wonder if any other job exists where one can work so incredibly hard and feel so completely defeated if even one part of the plan goes wrong. No job can be this hard to do well. Surely no job under the sun.

Kathleen Cushman says, “Good teaching requires the courage to look honestly at what is and imagine what it could be.” When I was struggling through that first year in Boston Public—a time I commonly refer to as ‘the winter of my life’—I looked at how poorly the school was run, how unsafe my students felt, and how alone I felt, and I imagined a school that served the same population but did it well. So I started looking, and I found City on a Hill. Here was a school that took the kids who lived next door to the kids I taught in Boston Public and got them to college! (As a side note, I hate it when people say that charter schools ‘weed out’ the worst behaved or the most behind students; it simply isn’t true—I can tell you, they serve the exact same kids.)

Here’s a journal entry that I wrote on August 30, 2006, three days into my first faculty orientation week at City on a Hill:

I'm really excited about this school. I definitely work with a fantastic group of people. I feel supported in so many ways (which can't be further from how I felt a year ago at my old school).  The exact moment that I realized this: My planning partner (who is also the Principal—all of the administrators teach!) and I were looking over my classroom contract from last year (a five-page document) and were able to cross off 90% of the ‘classroom procedures’ I had made up for my room because they already have school-wide systems in place that cover them. Everyone is on board; I am no longer an island unto myself. Hoorah!!

For me, quite literally, City on a Hill was a dream come true.

Ms. Gentry with her senior advisory on their last day of classes - May 21, 2010

Christine Gentry is a Ph.D. candidate in
the English Education department at Teachers College, Columbia University and a
Curriculum Coach and Lead Instructor at Student
Press Initiative. She taught high school English in inner-city Boston for
five years, four of which were at City on a Hill. She studied English and
Sociology at Baylor University and received her Master's in English Education
from the Harvard Graduate School of Education. Her long-term plan is to teach
future urban English teachers at the college level while always teaching at
least one high school class.

Above and Beyond

City on a Hill students are in school for a long day.  They arrive at or before 7:45am and most don’t leave until 4:30pm.  Those who participate in after school clubs or sports stay as late as 5:30 or 6pm.  For some, that’s a 10-hour day before homework – longer than many people spend at their full-time jobs.  They also have an extended week.  Students have Saturday school one Saturday per month, where freshmen and sophomores take practice MCAS exams, juniors take practice SAT tests, and the seniors taking AP courses come in to do work in those classes.  And if longer school days and longer school weeks are not enough, CoaH students also have a longer school year than their district counterparts.  All incoming freshmen attend a two-week long Freshman Academy in August, and starting in September with the start of the traditional school year, City on a Hill students are in school for 190 days, compared to 180 days for their friends in district schools.

We must also not forget that for all the extra time City on a Hill students spend in school CoaH faculty and staff members spend an equal amount of time, if not more, helping students succeed as they navigate through CoaH’s rigorous academic curriculum in preparation for college.  The dedicated staff at City on a Hill work countless hours outside of the school day, week, and year.  They work with students before and after school when they need extra help outside of class.  They meet with parents and guardians to form a united and supportive front as their students prepare for college.  They coach sports teams and advise clubs to ensure that their kids have access to the same well-rounded high school experiences as their peers in district schools.  They go to evening events to raise money and support for the programs that make possible the success of our students.  They go to school themselves in the evenings and on weekends to learn and grow as professionals.    

All members of the CoaH community – students, staff, parents, Board members, and supporters – work extremely hard to build what we have here.  One might think that after all the time put in on a regular basis, students and staff would cherish the time to themselves when a free weekend presents itself.  So, when the American Diabetes Association offered City on a Hill the opportunity to show its support for another great cause by participating in its annual Walk for Diabetes, I was amazed at the response.  This past Saturday, I showed up at the Boston Common, looking for the City on a Hill check-in table.  It wasn’t hard to find, as I quickly spotted the throngs of familiar smiling faces – some of which had been there since 8:30am – waiting eagerly for the walk to start.  While the mob of CoaH students and staff walked around the Common with thousands of other walkers from all over the city, I hung back at the check-in table, just in case any latecomers were looking for the group.  Sure enough, students and staff kept coming, some running to catch up with the rest of the group to participate in the walk, others to simply hang out and show their support for the ADA and for the school that they already dedicate so much time to.

Christine Bullard came to City on a Hill in 2009 and is the school’s Assistant Director of Development & Community Relations.  She has a B.S. from Cornell University, an M.S.Ed from The University of Pennsylvania, and an MPA in Public and Nonprofit Management and Policy from NYU.

One Track Mind

At City on a Hill Charter Public School, there are not separate classes for the smart kids and separate classes for the kids who just...can’t.  All students can do everything CoaH asks of them, and all students MUST do these things, or they will not graduate.  We never lower the standards for any of our students, but rather increase the expectations for all of our students.  We do not have “tracking” at City on a Hill. This notion of equality – not separate, therefore equal – helps our students succeed.

My high school had almost complete racial uniformity, but was still fairly segregated.  We were divided not by race or socioeconomic status (although I suspect there were strong correlations), but by ability, or, more accurately, perceived ability.  We were “tracked.”  There was a de facto elite who took all honors/AP classes.  There was a broad “middle class” who took some honors and mostly “college prep” classes.  Below them was a class of students, mostly invisible to me except in gym class and at assemblies, who took “the easy classes.”  Our school had some fuzzy euphemism for those classes, but to be honest I have no idea what it was.  Occasionally some students would work their way up or down, but from my position on top, everyone seemed content with their station.  In some sense, we all were where we believed we “should” be.

It was easy for me to make these assumptions because I was a member of the honors/AP elite.  We took the hardest classes because we were smart, and we were smart because we took the hardest classes.  It was a self-reinforcing mechanism, and one that had disastrous implications.  We didn’t need to work that hard because we had already succeeded.  After all, why else would we be “allowed” into the AP classes by the guidance counselors?  We deserved good grades because we were smart, and smart kids got good grades.  Woe betides the teacher who dared to give a “smart kid” a “bad grade.”

If that’s what it felt like for a “smart kid,” what must it have felt like for the student who just...couldn’t? Who couldn’t handle the “hard” classes, who knew at age 15 that he was not bound for college.  I’m deeply ashamed to say:  I have no idea.  I wasn’t friends with any of them.

City on a Hill does not segregate its students through tracking.  There is one rigorous English class for all freshmen, one for all sophomores, one for all juniors, and one for all seniors.  If you get less than a 70 in freshman English, you cannot go onto sophomore English, and you cannot become a sophomore.  Some students finish it on their first try, some need two or three, but all of our graduates have passed all four English classes.  The same is true for other subjects.  There is no pressure to pass students along with the grade level they “should” be in; the grade you “should” be in is determined by how you successful you are in your courses.  To those of us who were indoctrinated into the value system of tracking, this can seem at first excessively harsh.  But City on a Hill is quick to remind everyone that no students “fail” – the only grades are A, B, C and “Not Yet Passing.”  You are not a failure if you do not pass English I, you just need another try before you are ready to pass.

As these subtle language changes demonstrate, a lot of teaching is self-esteem management.  For too long, too many teachers have thought that if students were encouraged, then they could succeed.  In my high school, this resulted in a lot of students in the “easy classes” who were robbed of an education and given platitudes in exchange.  At City on a Hill, we reverse the logic:  if students succeed, then they will be encouraged.  Their teachers will provide the encouragement initially, but the students will eventually learn to encourage and motivate themselves.

Every student at City on a Hill has a tutor, and while part of our job is to make sure they succeed, an even more important part is to make sure they know they can succeed.  One of my students, who did not pass geometry last year and is a sophomore again because of it, stopped me in the hall this week to tell me good news. 

“Mister!” she beamed.  “Guess what my grade is in geometry.” 

She was too excited to wait for my obligatory reply and instead blurted “77!!!!” 

In my high school experience, I can honestly say I never spent time with anyone who was excited to get a 77.  I realized, though, that she had probably worked harder for that C+ than I had ever worked for any A.  I gave her a high-five and asked her if she thought she could get it to a B in time for report cards. 

“Of course!” she said, and cheerfully bounced along on her way to class.

Because she was not labeled a “failure” and because she did not get switched to another track that was “more her level,” she was empowered and encouraged to succeed at a subject that had been a genuine struggle for her.

I have been shocked by how quickly my previous assumptions have evaporated.  This is my first academic teaching job and I can’t imagine what it must be like to work in a school where it is implicitly or explicitly stated which kids can learn and which kids can’t.  I hope I never have to work in such a place.

Some of our freshmen enter here from middle schools where they were “the smart kids;” some were “the dumb kids” or “the troubled kids” or the “ones who just couldn’t do it.”  A few came from other schools where such labels were held at bay, if not abolished.  Yet every single one of our students will be “the smart kid” by the time they graduate.


Matthew Lawrence is a first year CoaHCORPS member at City on a Hill.  He received his B.A. in History and European Cultural Studies from Brandeis University.  He is originally from Vermont and visits there as often as possible.

Learning to Lead

My main goal is to not only graduate from City on a Hill, but to also get into the college of my choice and then graduate from that college. My guidance counselor has advised me that participating in outside programs will help me stand out when applying, so she suggested the Summer Search program because she thought it would be very beneficial and a great experience for me.  Summer Search Boston provides mentoring, summer experiences, and college advising to Boston high school students, so they gain the skills to succeed in college and dramatically improve their life prospects.  The goal of Summer Search is to help young students gain their independence, change for the better, and much more.  Therefore, I gladly took the opportunity to be a part of the program.

During my amazing and life-changing three weeks with Summer Search, I was able to overcome many challenges and learn about myself.  On this trip I went rafting and backpacking in Utah, spent community service hours with a Navajo family in Arizona, and embraced nature in Colorado.  A few challenges that I overcame were my fear of nature, the anxiety of being apart from my twin sister, the challenge of being on my own in an unknown environment, and the challenge of working on having patience.

When I first went into this trip my mentor and I talked about what I wanted to get out of it, which was to gain patience.  In my point of view patience is the key to life, and I lacked it majorly.  As a Summer Search representative, I knew that I had to keep cool and remain patient.  Only a few days into the rafting trip in Canyon Country, we came across copious amount of tamaris beetles that bothered me tremendously.  These beetles would fly around and land on humans and crawl their way around one’s body.  At the time, bugs were one of my biggest fears, and another camper found it funny to tease me about it.  He would lie and tell me there were bugs on me, when there really weren’t.  He would laugh and make side jokes about them when I was showing frustration, and I snapped.  I told this camper to shut up in a very sharp tone.  I wanted to continue with words that would make him feel bad, but I knew I had to keep my composure, and this was the skill that I was coming here to master.  So instead of telling him off, I took some time to cool down, drank a lot of water and continued on with my share of work.  After this was over I sat back and reflected on what I did.  I could see the change already and that this trip was transforming me.  Back at home this would have ended with a huge argument, but there I knew that an argument wasn’t going to solve anything.  I knew that I had to keep cool because not only would I be hurting the other camper but also the rest of the campers in the boat with us.  I knew that in order to keep going we had to all work together and tension was not going to help.

I also learned that I could adapt to new places, no matter how different an environment is from my home in Boston.  I learned that I’m actually more helpful and a better leader than I thought.  Last summer I had the opportunity to become captain of City on a Hill’s cheerleading squad, but I didn’t try to get the position because I thought I wasn’t good enough for it.  At the time, I didn’t think I was a good leader, but I was completely wrong.  In fact on my trip I was chosen to lead a day hike and also to help out with an emergency evacuation.  During the second week of the camping trip, a camper got injured and the camp leaders had to pick two people to help climb back out of the Dark Canyon and walk a few miles back to the road.  I was one of the two chosen.  At that moment I felt so much elation because it showed that the other campers saw me as not just a good leader, but an awesome leader, and I felt like I could take these leadership skills back to CoaH and master being a cheer co-captain.  From that point on, I knew I could change anything I wanted to as long as I set my mind to it.

Summer Search gave me the amazing opportunity to learn about myself, a chance to be an individual, and the opportunity to grow and overcome challenges!  Summer Search opened my eyes and gave me the confidence to take risks.  I’m grateful for this because Summer Search helped me find the strengths in me, and helped me overcome my weaknesses.  I look forward to taking what I’ve learned and applying it to my life at CoaH and my future in college and beyond.

Daeshiana Howard is currently a junior at City on a Hill Charter Public School. She is a three-year member of the Blue Storm cheerleading squad and recently became co-captain of the team. She is also a two-year member of COAH’s National Honor Society, along with being one of City on a Hill’s newest class representatives for the Class of 2013.

                       

Putting the "J" in "J-Factor"

I smile at school.  It’s what I do.  I tease, I banter, I greet everyone by name (loudly, and in a highly witty manner I swear), I laugh, I hold mini impromptu dance parties at my tutorial bench.  Every fist-pump from an excited student, every wacky moment, every small (and large) achievement puts a giant toothy grin on my face (someday, I will pay a fortune for teeth-whitening).  I try to pass these grins on throughout my day.  I try to put the J in J-Factor.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the concept of ‘J-Factor,’ I refer to Doug Lemov’s Teach Like A Champion technique: make learning joyful!  Include some ‘joy-factor’ in each of your lessons.  This could be a game or competition or awesome activity in the classroom, or it could simply be an attitude, brought to every single minute moment of learning.  This is the attitude that I strive to have at school, and I have found almost without fail that smiling really does transcend some sort of universal language.  Smile at a student, greet him or her by name, show them you’re excited to see them, and they will be excited to see you, maybe even excited to learn.

Last year, I worked primarily with sixth graders at another Boston charter school, and I worried that this year, in making the transition to high school, my particular brand of cheesy grins would not be so appreciated.  As it turns out, it’s not just me and the middle-schoolers who crave smiles.  After just over a year and a half in the public school system, I have come to truly believe that the smile is one of my most important educational tools.  Of course, like any tool, it is not appropriate at all moments – some times call for seriousness in a variety of guises, but it is nevertheless enormously useful to me.  Having a smiling attitude as a natural state of being helps me as a teacher to always be patient, and avoid becoming frustrated.  It’s nearly impossible to shake my happy (as my grumpy sleepy first period class has learned).   A smile can convey many messages to students: great job!, cheer up!, this-is-my-slanted-eyebrow-look-get-your-book-out-and-start-reading-oh-just-became-a-smile-thanks!  And so much more.  Like I said, a universal language, for middle school students, for high school students, for cheering yourself on.

As I walk through the parking lot in the afternoon to get my clothes for cross-country practice from my car, I almost always run into two smiley senior girls waiting at the gate (I’m not sure for what … I’m fairly certain it’s not me).  Every time our paths cross we grin at each other, and usually I crack some corny joke, and they laugh, hopefully genuinely.  I realized the other day that I am always capable of smiling at these two girls - whether I have had a fantastic day or not.  Smiling throughout the day has helped me to retain happy spirits; knowing these two girls will smile back at me and are happy to see me brightens my afternoon.  Mutual joy.  It’s what I love best about spending my days with high school students.


Julia Woodward is a Lead Tutor with the CoaHCORPS Tutorial Program, in her 1st year at City on a Hill. She earned her Bachelor's degree from Cornell University, where she studied Development Sociology and Education.

This Isn't Just a Test

Last Wednesday, I cleared my schedule for 3:30, the time when MCAS scores were scheduled to be distributed to City on a Hill’s 11^th graders.

Two years ago this fall, these 11^th graders began their freshman year achieving far below grade level, with few of the study, problem solving, and social skills that students in more affluent communities have learned by the time they are 14.  Some entered with all Fs on their 8^th grade transcript, but — strangely — had 8^th grade diplomas.  Many entered the 9^th grade at City on a Hill never having passed an MCAS test before.   It wasn’t that this group of new City on a Hill freshman couldn’t learn, it was that many of them attended schools that simply hadn’t taught them.

Between the time these students arrived as freshman until the days they took the test in the 10^th grade, their teachers, tutors, advisors, and administrators at City on a Hill worked with them to fill in the gaps between their academic strengths and challenges.  By the time they sat for the MCAS last spring, an army of well-educated, passionate, and ferociously hard-working adults had intervened on a fundamental injustice:  that most of these young people had reached the age of 14 without access to the kind of education that families living in places like Brookline or Newton are accustomed to.

Now 11^th graders, these students sat to the exams last spring, in March, in May, and in June.  Their teachers and tutors cheered them on before the tests started, congratulated them when they finished, and protected the sanctity and integrity of the testing environment like mother bears protecting the den.  The students knew they would receive their exam results together in our community meeting space, because they had attended last year’s score release and learned firsthand the power of this community ritual.  And their teachers and tutors attended too, even though by now they had closely examined (and made curricular adjustments informed by) the results. 

So when our Principal fired up the LCD projector, these 16-year-old 11^th graders knew what was coming.  They sat on the community meeting benches, close together, holding hands.  First, the Principal showed them the results of the classes before them, naming graduates who belonged to each group, some of whom have attended college, returned, and served as their teachers.  The room collectively held its breath in the millisecond before the class of 2013’s scores showed.  All of them — 100% of the class of 2013 — had passed the ELA and Math exams on the first try.   Over 94% of them had earned Proficienct or Advanced.  Their growth from middle school results was astronomical.

They jumped, they screamed, they cried, they hugged their teachers and tutors. 

A new teacher standing with me at the back of the room commented with awe:  “I’ve never seen anybody get so excited about a standardized test.” 

I answered, “This isn’t just a test.”  As a 10^th grade English teacher I always attended these score releases because I was so proud of my former students’ scores.  As a Principal, I ran these score releases to maximize the whole school community’s understanding of what success can be.  Now, as the school’s Executive Director, I stand to the side while the proud students, tutors, teachers, advisors, and administrators—without a single ounce of condescension or irony—celebrate their legitimate success.  And I am convinced to my very core that more young people deserve the opportunity to experience this magical thing—a community that cares, cares enough to hold everyone to the highest standards, and cares enough to succeed together.

However busy my schedule becomes with the many competing and bureaucratic demands of running a successful high school, I will always clear my schedule for this demonstration of community.

Erica Brown joined City on a Hill in 1998 to teach 10th grade English.  She became the school's Principal in 2003 and has been the Executive Director since 2007.  Ms. Brown received her B.A. in British and American Literature from Harvard College and her M.Ed. from Tufts University.

Yes You Can

During the first week of school, a student caught my eye and burst out a beaming smile. 

It was only 2 weeks earlier, during CoaH’s Freshman Academy that I saw this same young lady shed tears of doubt and fear bursting from her eyes as if a lifelong build-up of deep emotions was trying to escape.

"I can't," she mumbled as she held her head low, lacking any confidence against the test in front of her.

I was proctoring a diagnostic exam, not uncommon at the beginning of a new school year, given to students so teachers can base their lessons on what the students already know. After an hour of test taking, the first student finishing seemed to snowball the entire room of anxious youngsters to turn in their completed exams and leave the challenging environment of their newfound school. But that one young woman was left alone in the corner, amongst empty desks, likely questioning her hope of having the same achievements as her peers in suburban public schools, or even her peers at City on a Hill. After all, high school at City on a Hill is a very new environment with challenges unlike any she has had in her previous years of school.

I may not know her story right now, but I know I will. She likely has one similar to many of her fellow students, who are faced with the alarming statistics of under-achievement for children of their socio-economic and demographic background. Many of these students have been subject to what is debatably the greatest social injustice our nation faces – the achievement gap.

This long buildup of thoughts and emotions prompted me to say:  "yes you can... regardless of any of your past or present circumstances, I believe in you. I know we don't know each other that well, but I believe in you, and you can. We are here to help, and if you accept that help you will go to college, and you will achieve great things. It starts by putting your pencil on the paper and writing the problem."

I share this story not so anyone will pity her situation, or even praise my attempt to inspire her in this newfound community of support. I share this because at the last high school I taught at those same words of encouragement would have been a lie. City on a Hill is a different school because it is rooted in different expectations with the right people and refined systems that produce results – meaning nothing other than student achievement. Hence, I am thrilled to be a part of this community and contribute in some way to its legacy of success, where I am yet to see many other youngsters replace doubts and fear with hope and success just as this young lady faced her fears and finished her test.

Kelin Crane is a first-year Math teacher at City on a Hill, brought to us through the Teach for America program.  He earned his Bachelor's degree from Brigham Young University and is currently working towards a Master's degree in teaching from Boston University.

What Will I Do Today That Matters?

When I was sixteen, I really didn’t like high school. Rather, I was one of those students that acted like I didn’t like high school, but then stood outside the building long after classes were over. I was the type of student who knew exactly how many classes I could miss and still keep honor roll grades. I was terrible at math but became good at memorizing steps and getting right answers. The problem was that I never understood why or how I got certain answers; I just wanted A’s. When things were too difficult and I couldn’t trick my way to an A, I gave up. I dropped pre-calculus after the first quarter and finagled my way through the rest of high school without taking math again.

In my senior year of high school, I didn’t want to go to college. I thought that college would be like high school all over again, and it wasn’t until I met my senior year English teacher, Ms. Simoni, that things completely shifted. She didn’t try to give me the “You can do it! Just work harder!” speech, but instead, she proved that education isn’t just about grades. Yes, getting As was important, but she constantly pushed me to question why reading Emily Dickinson and learning ancient histories were important. It wasn’t just about grades; it was about growing as a person and learning about myself in relation to the world I live in.

The most important question she ever asked me was, “What will you do today that matters?” and it was then that I knew I couldn’t acquiesce to mediocrity. She inspired me to want to continue my education, and thus, I applied to a college that catered to how I learn. My college didn’t have grades or standardized evaluations of academic success, but instead motivated students with the mantra, Non Satis Scire: To Know Is Not Enough. My education became about self-growth, and I was motivated internally to become a better student. This was perhaps the single most important shift in my life, and perhaps this is what drove me to want to return to high school education, despite how much I really, really didn’t like high school.

I came to City on a Hill in August 2010 and am entering my second year in the tutorial program, now as a Lead Tutor with other new responsibilities throughout the school. Sometimes, people are skeptical of my job, and think that I exaggerate the energy and care I put into it, every single day, no matter how tired I am or how infinitely grey February seems.

Everyday, from 8:00 - 4:30, my one goal is to help my students make a little bit more sense of what they’re learning, no matter how many times we have to review punctuation rules, trigonometry, or Toni Morrison over and over again in order for them to really understand. Once they understand, then I ask the hard questions--the types of questions that hopefully spark their desire to learn because they want to, not just because they have to. I push them to ask why, and really understand what they’re seeking.

Of course we work for high grades with the expectation that all are going to college, but I also hope to inspire my students to want to go to college in order to become better thinkers, better learners, and better citizens of the world. It is my hope that they will want to earn not only a high GPA, but will also ask themselves “What will I do today that matters?”

Jess Kim is a Lead Tutor with the CoaHCORPS Tutorial Program, now in her 2nd year at City on a Hill.  She earned her Bachelor's degree from Hampshire College, where she studied critical social theory and poetics.

"A wise educator once told me that students do what we tell them to do."

It was about two weeks into my first year as an English teacher at City on a Hill that I decided to go buy a snack at the local convenience store down the street. On my way I saw three young men in City on a Hill uniforms whom I had never met before walking towards me – seniors, apparently, because they had off-campus lunch privileges – and as we passed I said, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

And they replied, “Good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“Good afternoon, sir.”

I was so stunned I called my dad on my cell phone and told him about what had just happened.

Now, that might not be a particularly moving story to a lot of teachers out there who are used to a modicum of civility from their students, but I taught for the first three years of my career in New York City. I was used to breaking up fights a couple times a day; I would shrug off threats from my students, because the administration would only yell at them and send them back to class; I was told that the solution to a 75% tardiness rate in the morning was to make my class more interesting so that students wouldn’t want to miss it (I can’t really imagine a lesson so captivating that it would internally motivate a student to get up at 6:00am and rush to school).

A wise educator once told me that students do what we tell them to do. And I thought at the time that he was being sarcastic. But looking back on it, the reason the kids in New York fought was because a five-day suspension for staple-gunning another kid in the skull tells him that that is generally frowned upon behavior, but certainly not serious. Having no consequence for tardiness tells kids quite clearly that they should come to school at some point during first period, but it’s okay to take your time.

At City on a Hill, the adults actually tell the young people precisely what they would like them to do. You must wear a belt. If you forget your belt, you have to go home and get your belt. You cannot come late. If you come late, you don’t get to interrupt your first period class, and you have to stay for an hour at the end of the day to make up your work. Learn to write an essay. If you don’t learn how to write a freshman essay, you don’t get to become a sophomore. Here, just like everywhere else, the students do what we tell them to do.

It was a pretty hard for me to fully realize that it was we – the adults – who had failed in that New York school. They were the exact same population of students there that we have here, the exact same socio-economic demographic, but the teachers were largely ill prepared to structure the school. What we do at City on a Hill results in students actually wanting to be excellent students. Because we tell them every day, with every class period, that they should want that.


Dan O'Connor is an English teacher entering his 4th year at City on a Hill. He studied English at the College of Wooster and earned a Masters in Teaching English from Teachers College at Columbia University.