Across the country, young people are anxiously awaiting and excitedly receiving letters and emails from our institutions of higher education telling them that they have been accepted for enrollment and giving them a glimpse of what the future holds. I remember this time during my own senior year and have shared this time repeatedly with the young people I have worked with over the years. It is a remarkable moment in a lifetime.
The problem is that many students never glimpse this future vision and never arrive at this seminal moment. These students are typically low-income (rural and urban). These students are disproportionately students of color. These students come from already failing schools and live in communities that too often lack opportunities for them as well. These students are immigrants and children of immigrants. These young people are caught in a dangerous cycle. Now, some of you might already be thinking it, and I have heard more times than I can handle, that “all students are not college material.” I agree. But why in 2010 do we accept using such a euphemism to rationalize the exclusion of low-income students and students of color from a pathway to higher education? From a pathway out of poverty? Perhaps it is worth recalling that in 1960 some students were not considered lunch counter material. Shouldn’t all students have a right to educational choice? To determine their own futures and their own pathways with equitable and accurate information and adequate support? To define their own pursuit of happiness? I worked with students from two low-income, urban comprehensive high schools who in 2004 wanted the answer to these questions. So, they asked more than 400 of their friends and classmates in these two high schools if they actually wanted to go to college. The result was that 91% of students said YES, they did want to go to college. Candidly, I was shocked at this level of aspiration and so were they. Even as these youth and I were pushing against it, we had to some degree internalized the false notion that “these students” had lower aspirations than their peers in other schools. Painfully, we then took a look at the college-going rates and found that only 1 out of 10 entering freshmen would actually make it to post-secondary. This is a stunning and a perfectly horrifying inversion from 90% aspiration to 10% attainment. That’s us failing our students, not our students failing. Now, this data seems a little dated (and makes me feel a little old), so let’s look at a couple of more recent examples. Another survey for students and by students was just completed by the Mayor’s Youth Council here in Nashville. It surveyed almost 1100 students across every public high school, comprehensive and magnet, alternative learning centers, academies, and a few private schools. 86% of the respondents said that they wanted to attain some sort of 2 or 4 year college degree or professional degree. And, while I obviously don’t have the numbers as to how many of these students will make it across so many different schools, these same students did report that only 23% of them had actually gotten support from a guidance counselor to get there (despite also reporting that they wanted and needed help in the research, application, and financial aid processes). College-going data from around the country tells us that, if they are low-income (which was not asked) and/or students of color (about 60% of the respondents), these aspirations will go unsupported and unachieved. This is not a Nashville issue alone, nor is it purely urban. I had the opportunity to do some work with a consortium of rural counties in West Tennessee comprising the STEP (Southwest Tennessee Educational Pathways) Initiative. A colleague and I did some research and work with this group to write a brief gap analysis (they already knew the gaps and they were almost everywhere) and to develop a multi-county college access strategy that would legitimately work for such a broad and under-resourced geographic area. Part of the research included a student survey to better understand their level of aspiration, access and understanding. Of 1399 students surveyed across 9 rural West Tennessee schools, 93% reported that they wanted to go to college. We know the reality from other local efforts that the number actually making it to college is closer to perhaps 20-30%. Again, the statistics suggest we are working counter to our students’ aspiration, not capturing it and building on it. It should be noted that the guidance counselors are not solely to blame here. They are highly trained staff who spend too much of their time counting tests. If you talk to most of them you know they are often as frustrated as the students. They are frustrated they cannot “do their job”. For what they are actually asked to do, “guidance” and “counselor” are too often unfortunate misnomers. With that being said, we must understand and admit that to do the work and provide the support for many of our students to make it to college, and to do so with equitable choices, requires a full-time staff commitment of college counselors. It is not a percentage of another staff. It is not something we can do when/if we have time around testing and coordinating tests. That won’t cut it. We also must understand that the “boot-straps” stories that percolate this time of year, while certainly worth celebrating, are stories of young people who have succeeded despite the system, not because of it. We need to celebrate these young people, but not be blinded to the real problem by their individual herculean efforts. The fact is that, despite many successful programs around the country, the system for supporting low-income, first-generation students to access post-secondary education is broken…on second thought, it is non-existent. And, to make matters worse, the students know it. This gap is a recipe for hopelessness, a crushed vision for the future, a lack of purpose for high school, and a pretty good impetus for dropping out of school. College access is more than credentialing. It’s about a sense of self, of identity, a sense of purpose, of hope, a pathway out of poverty, and a reason to make good choices along the way. These should be part of the system, not counter to it. These should be opportunities for every student.
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Recent discussions and outright alarm about the consequences of bullying in our schools has spurred some larger questions about student rights and responsibilities in schools and our daily attention to detail in this regard. In other words, I guess recent tragedies have left me wondering: how did it get so bad for these young people without some awareness or intervention or support by either peers or adults?
On October 30, the American Civil Liberties Union in Nashville is hosting a Students Rights Conference for “high school students to talk and learn about student rights in schools and in the community.” The topics listed on their flyer include: Freedom of Expression: Students’ rights related to speech, press, dress, the internet and texting. Street Law: Students’ rights and responsibilities related to the police, the courts, and racial profiling. Plus: experts on LGBT issues, privacy rights and religious freedom in schools. Building this level of student awareness and capacity around their rights is core to the creation of more student-centered schools. And yet, I wonder how much schools themselves, specifically at the building level, know about student rights. For that matter, how much do parents and communities know about student rights? As someone who works for a youth organization, how much do I know about student rights? (Not much for my part I’m afraid.) Perhaps even more critically, what are their rights beyond those explicitly defined by the Constitution? What about those rights more akin to concepts like dignity, respect, and the like? These are often the most nebulous of concepts and yet most of us agree they are most critical to healthy development and safe school environments. Assuming we all agree that dignity and respect have their place in schools, how do we articulate what they mean as rights and how in the world do we enforce them as a practice? For that matter, how are student rights like dignity systematically communicated, trained, and made a part of the school operations and climate? Whose job is it to enforce and advocate and be a watchdog for the human and constitutional rights of students every day and in every school? What, if any, are the real consequences if student rights (particularly those that are not explicitly Constitutional) are violated? I sincerely don’t know the answers to these questions, and I struggle to be an effective advocate for and with young people due to this lack of clarity. For instance, have my rights been violated if:
I simply do not know where the line between bad practice and a violation of rights resides. I believe we need to clarify that line. With no clear student rights, there can be no accountability. With no accountability, there is no way to build the collective and there is no target for positive change. If we are as a nation looking toward a new day and age in public education, where is this discussion (with students) of student rights in our national campaign to reform our schools? Importantly, with defined rights also comes responsibility. So, on the flip side, where is the discussion (again with students) of student responsibilities in schools? What are the explicit, active roles students play in creating a positive school environment (and “staying out of trouble” and “passing” classes are not sufficient)? Are there any? Do they know it? Have they been trained and prepared with the skills and processes to carry them out effectively? If we ever want to stop bullying, for example, it will only be through the power of students to take on this issue with a clear understanding of their rights and responsibilities. As long as student safety, for instance, is someone else’s (an adult’s) responsibility, students will not see or understand their role as a solution to a problem that they very clearly know exists. There simply will never be enough adult leaders with enough ubiquity to match the reach and impact of peer-to-peer relationships among students. To secure the true dignity and respect of all students in schools (and all adults for that matter), we need to articulate what this means and share the responsibility for living it every day. Students need to understand their rights and responsibilities. The entire education community needs to understand student rights and responsibilities. Together, we need to hold each other accountable for these rights and responsibilities. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound? If no one is watching and no one is listening to the rights of students, do they exist? Earlier this year, I posted a blog “Can’t See the Forest for the Fields” in which I talked about the arbitrary (for youth) but systemic (for our schools, communities, and organizations) distinction between the notion of “student” and that of “youth”. I also talked about the gap that we create when a young person is a student say from 7 a.m.-2:00 p.m. while in school and then suddenly becomes a youth when he exits the school building and enters the community. Each “sector” has its own unique training, outcomes, expectations, disciplinary practices and on and on and the only consistency is the young person who has to cross these boundaries. I won’t rehash the whole blog here, but feel free to click above and check it out.
Since the time of this initial posting, I have had numerous conversations with community groups who are trying to work with schools and schools who are trying to work with community groups. No one seems to understand why they end up frustrated or at odds because we all genuinely believe we are working in the best interests of our young people. But, the reality is that for community organizations the “best interests of young people” often means we want youth to be engaged in their community and in issues important to them. We want them to develop informed and powerful voices, to build positive leadership skills and values, to understand conflict resolution, to build effective relationships and so on. This is what we are measured on; this is what our funding says we have to do. On the other hand, most of our teachers and schools are struggling with the singular ultimatum of success that is standardized testing. They are trying in the “best interests of young people” to get students to pass these tests, and in order to do so to manage their classrooms, to address behavioral and disciplinary issues, to build relationships, and so on. But, ultimately, the students have to pass those standardized tests. This is what our schools are evaluated on; this is what their funding says they have to do. Our differences are a matter of perspective, approach, and evaluation, not necessarily intent. The dissonance is between setting and outcome, good process and high-stakes accountability, climate and academic performance. And, despite the research, we have failed to make a strong enough case for the interdependence of these elements; or we have at least failed to create enough urgency to focus on changing our current course to support such a case. The reason I am revisiting this concept is that I recently received an email describing a community that really seems to be working on eliminating this arbitrary gap for our students/youth. They are doing this with an understanding that a quality environment for young people is a quality environment for young people, regardless of content or specific outcomes, regardless of being in-school or out. In other words, there are some universal elements of quality spaces in which young people thrive that we can and should apply both in schools and in community settings. An excerpt from the email: This inspiring 12-minute video documents how the Georgetown Divide, a small community in the Sierra foothills of Northern California, has embraced a positive youth development approach across the settings where youth spend time and has anchored that commitment through widespread use of the Youth Program Quality Assessment. In this video, school teachers and youth workers reflect on their own practice in powerful ways, and describe how the cycle of assessment, planning and training works. District administrators and youth organization leaders describe how they are systematically implementing a low-stakes approach to accountability that has empowered staff, improved practice, and resulted in real change for youth. To view the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=79epysezpVs The fact is that we know the kind of environment in which our young people will positively develop and thrive socially, academically, and otherwise. And yet, we too often define our educational and community settings around content delivery and short-term outcomes rather than our long-term intentions: developing healthy and prepared young people. If both in-school settings and out-of-school settings could at least share a common understanding of the elements of good “programming” for youth and for what makes quality youth spaces, perhaps we could, despite differing content and accountability, better align our collective efforts for the sake of our young people. Our challenge now is to follow the lead of Georgetown Divide in understanding that the term “youth” in Youth Program Quality does not in fact exclude the concept of “student” and that the term “program” does not exclude “classroom”. Ironically, we need to follow a town called “Divide” to ensure our schools and communities better work together for the benefit and wellbeing of our young people. *The same Youth Program Quality Assessment tools and trainings being used by Georgetown Divide are being used around the country in urban, suburban and rural settings. More can be found at the Weikart Center for Youth Program Quality website: http://www.cypq.org/ |
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