First Person

Voices: Finding the "super" in superintendent

Aurora literacy teacher Jessica Cuthbertson ponders the meaning of the word “super” as in superintendent as the search continues for a new school leader in Aurora. 

I’ve been ruminating on the word super. A dictionary search reveals several definitions for the prefix: “above, beyond,” “to place or be placed above or over,” and “an individual or thing larger, more powerful, or with wider application than others of its kind.”

Aurora Public Schools Superintendent John Barry addressed the media at a press conference in August. <em>EdNews</em> file photo.

Super conjures images of strength, power, magnitude, superiority, leadership and grandeur. Super Bowl. Superhero. Superstar. Superintendent.

Aurora Public Schools, the diverse school district where I work, is in the beginning stages of a national search for our next superintendent.

Last month I participated in one of a series of focus groups soliciting feedback on the qualities and characteristics our district needs and desires in its next leader. The facilitator took thorough notes, synthesizing and paraphrasing ideas generated by more than a dozen teachers and association members. Several other groups have been asked to give feedback, including community members, classified and certified staff, school leaders, and parents.

But one group of stakeholders hasn’t been asked for their input. The students.

When I inquired about a focus group for students, I received a quizzical look from the facilitator. The group grew quiet.

“Well, I suppose high schoolers might have something to contribute to the conversation?” one of my colleagues pondered.

This got me thinking. What would my students, mere sixth-graders, find important qualities for our district’s next superintendent?

I decided to find out.

On day one of a close reading of the short narrative “Superpatriot” by Avi, I found a natural entry point.

We talked about the word super and what a superpatriot might be before reading the text. And then we talked about the next superintendent. I asked them to follow up by responding to a prompt on Edmodo (a site that hosts online communities for schools). The prompt: “Using what you know and think about the prefix super, what qualities do you think the next superintendent should embody? Why are these qualities important?”

Responses varied but several themes and patterns emerged. My sixth grade students want someone leading our school district who is fair, kind and smart. Someone who speaks more than one language and who understands a variety of cultures. Someone who likes and can relate to both kids and adults. Someone who is creative and commanding.

In their own words:

  • “I think the new superintendent should be fair because being fair is important. For example, it would be fair if each teacher got the same equipment, and it wouldn’t be fair if he gave one teacher more equipment than the others.”
  • “He/she should have respect for people and demonstrate kindness. A person who can help other people because a superintendent should be a helpful person. He/she takes care of everything and solves problems when there is something wrong.”
  • “I think the new superintendent needs to be respectful and responsible because he/she needs to be taken seriously.”
  • “I think that the superintendent should have a college degree (or two or three!) I also think that the superintendent should put themself in the children’s place to see how kids would feel about new rules or ideas. I also think that they should be smart with computers, after all it is 2013!”
  • “I think that they should have experience and make sure they are comfortable with being around kids, young adults like us, and adults!”
  • “The new superintendent of APS should know how to lead because he or she is going to be leading many adults and children. He or she should be respectful because he or she is going to be listening to multiple ideas.”
  • “I would like our new superintendent be creative, intelligent and commanding, so they know what they are doing and do it with joy and care. They should be able to speak more than one language and respect other cultures.”

Of course, the sixth-graders’ comments reflect what they understand about the role. But many of their ideas were strikingly similar to the teacher focus group’s feedback. Teachers also seek a leader who is fair and kind. A leader who listens before acting. A leader who supports innovation and new ideas. A leader who understands and appreciates the strengths, challenges and diversity in the district. A leader who trusts teachers and students.

Our next superintendent will be charged with managing, leading, and supporting a school district of more than 37,000 students in grades P-12 who represent more than 135 different countries and speak more than 115 languages.

A superb task.

As the search for the next superintendent continues, we can’t go wrong as long as we keep our superstudents at the center.

First Person

I’ve been mistaken for the other black male leader at my charter network. Let’s talk about it.

PHOTO: Alan Petersime

I was recently invited to a reunion for folks who had worked at the New York City Department of Education under Mayor Michael Bloomberg. It was a privilege for me to have been part of that work, and it was a privilege for me to be in that room reflecting on our legacy.

The counterweight is that only four people in the room were black males. Two were waiters, and I was one of the remaining two. There were definitely more than two black men who were part of the work that took place in New York City during that era, but it was still striking how few were present.

The event pushed me to reflect again on the jarring impact of the power dynamics that determine who gets to make decisions in so-called education reform. The privileged end up being relatively few, and even fewer look like the kids we serve.

I’m now the chief operating officer at YES Prep, a charter school network in Houston. When I arrived at YES four years ago, I had been warned that it was a good old boys club. Specifically, that it was a good old white boys club. It was something I assessed in taking the role: Would my voice be heard? Would I truly have a seat at the table? Would I have any influence?

As a man born into this world with a black father and white mother, I struggled at an early age with questions about identity and have been asking those questions ever since.

As I became an adult, I came to understand that being from the suburbs, going to good schools, and being a lighter-skinned black person affords me greater access to many settings in America. At the same time, I experience my life as a black man.

Jeremy Beard, head of schools at YES, started the same day I did. It was the first time YES had black men at the leadership table of the organization. The running joke was that people kept mistaking Jeremy and me for each other. We all laughed about it, but it revealed some deeper issues that had pervaded YES for some time.

“Remember when you led that tour in the Rio Grande Valley to see schools?” a board member asked me about three months into my tenure.“That wasn’t me,” I replied. I knew he meant Jeremy, who had worked at IDEA in the Valley. At that time, I had never been to the Valley and didn’t even know where it was on the map.

“Yes, it was,” he insisted.

“I’ve never been to the Valley. It wasn’t me. I think you mean Jeremy.”

“No, it was you, don’t you remember?” he continued, pleading with me to recall something that never happened.

“It wasn’t me.”

He stopped, thought about it, confused, and uttered, “Huh.”

It is difficult for me to assign intent here, and this dynamic is not consistent with all board members. That particular person may have truly been confused about my identity. And sure, two black men may have a similar skin tone, and we may both work at YES. But my life experience suggests something else was at play. It reminds me that while I have the privilege of sitting at the table with our board, they, as board members, have the privilege of not having to know who I am, or that Jeremy and I are different black dudes.

It would be easy to just chalk this all up to racial politics in America and accept it as status quo, but I believe we can change the conversation on privilege and race by having more conversations on privilege and race. We can change the dynamics of the game by continuing to build awareness of diversity, equity, and inclusion. We can also advocate to change who has seats at the table and whose voices will be heard.

I remain hopeful thanks to the changes I have witnessed during my time at YES. The board has been intentional in their efforts to address their own privilege, and is actively working to become more diverse and inclusive.

Personally, I have worked to ensure there are more people of color with seats at the table by mentoring future leaders of color at YES Prep and other black men in this work. Jeremy and I also created Brothers on Books, a book club for black men at YES to find mentorship and fellowship. Through this book club, we can create a safe space to have candid discussions based on literature we read and explore what it means to be black men at YES.

When I think about privilege, I am torn between the privilege that has been afforded to me and the jarring power dynamics that determine who gets to have conversations and make decisions in so-called education reform. White people are afforded more voices and seats at the table, making decisions that primarily impact children of color.

It is not lost on me that it is my own privilege that affords me access to a seat at the table. My hope is that by using my role, my voice and my privilege, I can open up dialogue, hearts, minds, opinions, and perceptions. I hope that readers are similarly encouraged to assess their own privileges and determine how they can create positive change.

Recy Benjamin Dunn is YES Prep’s chief operating officer, overseeing operations, district partnerships, and growth strategy for the charter school network. A version of this piece was first published on YES Prep’s blog.

First Person

I’m a Bronx teacher, and I see up close what we all lose when undocumented students live with uncertainty

The author at her school.

It was our high school’s first graduation ceremony. Students were laughing as they lined up in front of the auditorium, their families cheering them on as they entered. We were there to celebrate their accomplishments and their futures.

Next to each student’s name on the back of those 2013 graduation programs was the college the student planned to attend in the fall. Two names, however, had noticeable blanks next to them.

But I was especially proud of these two students, whom I’ll call Sofia and Isabella. These young women started high school as English learners and were diagnosed with learning disabilities. Despite these obstacles, I have never seen two students work so hard.

By the time they graduated, they had two of the highest grade point averages in their class. It would have made sense for them to be college-bound. But neither would go to college. Because of their undocumented status, they did not qualify for financial aid, and, without aid, they could not afford it.

During this year’s State of the Union, I listened to President Trump’s nativist rhetoric and I thought of my students and the thousands of others in New York City who are undocumented. President Trump falsely portrayed them as gang members and killers. The truth is, they came to this country before they even understood politics and borders. They grew up in the U.S. They worked hard in school. In this case, they graduated with honors. They want to be doctors and teachers. Why won’t we let them?

Instead, as Trump works to repeal President Obama’s broader efforts to enfranchise these young people, their futures are plagued by uncertainty and fear. A Supreme Court move just last week means that young people enrolled in the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program remain protected but in limbo.

While Trump and the Congress continue to struggle to find compromise on immigration, we have a unique opportunity here in New York State to help Dreamers. Recently, the Governor Cuomo proposed and the state Assembly passed New York’s DREAM Act, which would allow Sofia, Isabella, and their undocumented peers to access financial aid and pursue higher education on equal footing with their documented peers. Republicans in the New York State Senate, however, have refused to take up this bill, arguing that New York state has to prioritize the needs of American-born middle-class families.

This argument baffles me. In high school, Sofia worked hard to excel in math and science in order to become a radiologist. Isabella was so passionate about becoming a special education teacher that she spent her free periods volunteering with students with severe disabilities at the school co-located in our building.

These young people are Americans. True, they may not have been born here, but they have grown up here and seek to build their futures here. They are integral members of our communities.

By not passing the DREAM Act, it feels like lawmakers have decided that some of the young people that graduate from my school do not deserve the opportunity to achieve their dreams. I applaud the governor’s leadership, in partnership with the New York Assembly, to support Dreamers like Sofia and Isabella and I urge Senate Republicans to reconsider their opposition to the bill.

Today, Sofia and Isabella have been forced to find low-wage jobs, and our community and our state are the poorer for it.

Ilona Nanay is a 10th grade global history teacher and wellness coordinator at Mott Hall V in the Bronx. She is also a member of Educators for Excellence – New York.