Tough Love : At-Risk Students Find They Can Blossom With Right Help in Right Classroom

When Cleveland Elementary School did an inventory last year to identify at-risk students in its low-income Pasadena neighborhood, most of the names that turned up were male.

The majority had similar histories: poor attendance and grades, behavioral problems, no father at home. But Principal Pamela Powell, whose philosophy blends tough love and tenacity, was convinced that these students could blossom with the right help.

Last fall, she joined forces with Los Angeles County education officials to launch one of three pilot programs in the county targeted specifically at young black boys.

The county provided money to hire a special teacher and a teacher’s assistant for a combination fourth- and fifth-grade class, and Powell tapped into existing Pasadena community programs and grants to enhance the academic curriculum.

She set up swimming lessons three times a week at the Rose Bowl aquatic club. She brought in business people to discuss careers from electrician to rocket scientist. And she arranged field trips. This month, for instance, the boys are reading excerpts from “The Barber of Seville” in preparation for seeing the live opera.

The 13 boys--class size is kept small on purpose--also receive one-on-one academic tutoring, guidance counseling and tips on manners and grooming. They stand up in unison to greet visitors and shake hands firmly. Several times a week, they wear ties to class.

The results? Powell says attendance and grades have shot up. Students who previously couldn’t sit still or function in a classroom are flourishing. And most beg to come to school, even when they are sick.

Quietly and with little fanfare, Powell’s all-male classroom is showing how troubled youngsters can achieve success with committed teachers, one-on-one education, and a dynamic principal willing to fight for funding and programs for students.

“I don’t like missing a day,” said Derrick Andrews, 9, who adds that his favorite topic is math. “We have to write a lot, and sometimes my hand hurts because I print so hard. But I like that too.”

What the students appear to like best about school this year is their teacher, Tom Washington, who imparts self-esteem alongside the 3Rs. Tall and bespectacled, Washington exudes dignity and respect, calling these rambunctious fourth- and fifth-graders “gentlemen.” He peppers his lessons with “excuse me,” “please” and “thank you” and expects his charges to do the same.

“One of the things we realized early on is that we wanted to have a father image for the kids,” Powell says. “Many don’t have fathers at home and they need a strong role model. Tom is real unique. He has the patience of Job. We have first-graders who beg, ‘Can I be in Mr. Washington’s class.’ ”

Powell said she combed Pasadena Unified to find Washington, a black man who has taught in the district for seven years and whose energy level matches that of his students.

The 41-year-old teacher moves like quicksilver through the classroom, exhorting those in front, racing to the back to confer with a troubled student, darting to the bulletin board to reinforce the day’s goals such as “stay focused” and “no fighting.”

Each Monday, when students file back into their desks after often turbulent weekends at home, Washington takes time out to reorient them to the world of books, classwork and discipline. In a child’s life, two days can be a long time and many things can happen in their Northwest Pasadena neighborhood plagued with gangs, drugs and crime.

“If someone had a bad weekend, maybe they’re quiet or sullen, or exhibiting bad behavior,” Washington says. “So we’re constantly reviewing. I want them to have a strong foundation they can build upon.”

Washington often teaches from real life, using, say, a fight that occurred on the school playground. He assigns roles to various students so they can act out a more positive scenario.

“Is it OK for us to get angry at others?” he asks, peering over his red, plastic-rimmed glasses.

“Yes,” comes a chorus of voices.

“If we get angry with someone, what do we do?” he continues.

“Ignore the person and walk away,” answers Travis Davis.

“Stay in control,” says Byron McGee.

“Tell someone, like a teacher or someone else on campus,” adds Michael Jolley.

“I’ll take all of those,” Washington responds, as the boys beam.

Washington strikes a responsive chord in these children, showering them with attention and affection. When he squats at their desks and stares them in the eye as he explains an idea, they wriggle with pleasure.

“If I bought a new car in 1921 and I sold it in 1928, would I add years or subtract in order to find out how old it is?” he asks 11-year-old Chris Perkins, who is wrestling with math word problems one morning.

The boy screws up his face in concentration and shoots back the answer.

Satisfied, Washington moves on.

When the students break for recess, Washington turns wistful.

“I wish the school day was a little longer so I could say more, share more,” he says. “There’s a lot of mental anguish--am I giving them the skills they need to be prepared especially in these trying times?”

Los Angeles County officials who are monitoring the program think so. They launched similar classes with girls at the Lynwood and Inglewood unified school districts last fall and they say student achievement at all three locations has shot up dramatically in just seven months.

Suspensions and absenteeism have dropped to almost zero and students can concentrate longer, said David Flores, director of alternative education for the Los Angeles County Office of Education.

Young black boys were targeted because studies showed they were the most likely to slip through educational cracks and end up dropping out, going to prison or being killed, Flores said.

The program, however, “is certainly open to girls and other groups as well.”

Washington’s class, for example, includes one Filipino boy. Next year, Powell plans to add some at-risk girls, boosting the class size to 20. Washington will stay with the expanded group as they move into a combination fifth/sixth-grade class.

The county received $50,000 from the state lottery to start the program. For each student, the school receives between $3,000 and $5,600 in state money, some of which comes from a special fund for at-risk students.

With this money, the county held seminars for teachers and aides. The curricula were also redesigned to underscore blacks’ contributions to history, science, civil rights and politics.

The Pasadena students have an extra bonus: scholarships from the nonprofit “I Have A Dream” Foundation, with money supplied by the Berger Foundation of Arcadia.

All the boys in Washington’s class will have their educations through college paid by the foundation. Each child works with a mentor and receives intensive tutoring and counseling. Counselors also make home visits and, in some cases, have helped families receive food and shelter.

Washington says many of the boys are already exhibiting gifts that might languish unnoticed in a classroom of 37. Jason Merriett, who loves to draw, is flourishing as a graphic artist and has even designed his own board game.

Michael Jolley, a class cutup, has been elected vice president of the Cleveland student body and mesmerizes his classmates with spontaneous speeches.

“His whole attitude toward life has changed,” says Michael’s mother, Jerrie Thomas Jolley. “He’s becoming more respectful. He enjoys going to school now. He loves Mr. Washington and talks about him all the time.”

For Washington too, this year has been a learning experience.

“I didn’t realize how important class size was,” he says. “Before I came here, my philosophy was, ‘Give me as many kids as you need.’ But you can do more with fewer kids. You really can.”