Dorsey High Students

It was 7:35 a.m. I was struggling to carry my regular load from my car to my classroom--a backpack with graded papers, my lunch, the day’s Times--along with a 2.5-gallon water container.

A student approached. He was a tall, muscular African-American who looked friendly, though I didn’t recognize him. It was Friday, and he was sporting the colors. Not the reds of the Bloods. Those aren’t allowed on campus. Not the blues of the neighboring Crips. They aren’t allowed, either. This young man had on a Dorsey green-and-white knitted cap and football jersey. A white hand towel with Dorsey printed in green hung from his waist. A football player.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, setting the water down. As we made small talk on the way to my room, he nodded to his grinning classmates, occasionally calling their names. Nobody teased his gallantry.

You’re probably thinking, “Big deal. So a student carried water for you?” In my book, this “not cool” deed deserves media attention for a school that has been plagued with the same.

Unfortunately, the recent refusal by Banning High School to play Dorsey at Jackie Robinson Stadium has painted a picture of a school mired with gun-toting, gangbanging students. This unfair publicity has been featured in The Times.

I can’t stay quiet any longer. In my 17 years of teaching, no student has ever offered to carry anything for me. Even when asked, they haven’t always helped.

I came to Dorsey last year after teaching at predominantly white schools for 15 years. As a 44-year-old white woman, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this central-city, mostly African-American school, but was tired of commuting 70-plus miles daily to the Santa Clarita Valley.

Surprise! Dorsey students have been more eager to learn, more polite and more cooperative. Parents here, too, have consistently backed me, which is to say, have followed through to see that the work gets done. I have had the two most gratifying years of teaching to date.

As he set the water down in my classroom, I asked his name. He stuck out his hand for handshake and said, “Sharmon Shah, senior class president.” Later, I found out he is also co-captain of the varsity football team.

KAREN STERLING

Los Angeles