When teachers become the pupils
By tackling language and cultural barriers in class, educators and Latinos hold each other accountable
With one hand on her hip and the other gripping a plastic ruler, Emely Herrera surveyed her class and asked it to repeat after her: "En la línea por favor" (Line up please); "No mastiques chicle en clase" (Don't chew gum in class); "Necesito hablarles a tus padres" (I need to talk to your parents).
The serious-looking teacher with arched eyebrows, knee-high socks, and long, brown hair pulled back in a headband is an 11-year-old immigrant from El Salvador. Her charges, gathered in a semicircle in front of her, are teachers at East Boston's Donald McKay K-8 School, where 90 percent of the students are Latino and half are not fluent in English.
Each Friday after school, the teachers brush up on basic Spanish to help them connect with their students, boost the confidence of those new to this country, and instill pride in the students' heritage.
In a school system where Latino students post the worst MCAS scores and are more likely than any other ethnic group to drop out, McKay stands out as a shining exception, according to a report to be released today by the University of Massachusetts at Boston's Mauricio Gastón Institute for Latino Community Development and Public Policy.
University researchers analyzed the MCAS scores of every Boston public school and selected five nonexam schools with the highest level of Latino achievement. The goal: to identify what they are doing right as a primer for other schools.
The successful schools - which include Bradley and O'Donnell elementary schools in East Boston; Tech Boston Academy, a high school in Dorchester; and Fenway High - challenge students with high expectations but also support them academically. They treat families with respect, and have principals who encourage teachers to take on leadership roles, collaborate, and foster innovation, say researchers who visited the schools and interviewed principals, teachers, and students.
Researchers plan to disseminate their findings at a forum this morning in hopes of influencing education reform around the state and helping Latino parents in Boston choose better schools, said Miren Uriarte, director of the Gastón institute.
"The problem for Latino students in Boston is that most do not attend schools with the characteristics that lead to high achievement," the report said. "Many district schools are below state standards in almost every school quality indicator."
Latinos make up more than a third of the city schools, and are expected to soon surpass black students in number. They are also facing the greatest challenges: More than a quarter quit school, many as early as sixth grade, and only half graduate from high school in four years.
In 2007, nearly a fifth of Latino eighth-graders in the Boston public schools failed the English MCAS, and nearly half failed math, according to the most recent MCAS results. Forty-eight percent scored proficient in English, and 20 percent in math.
But students in the schools highlighted by the study fared much better.
Despite a high poverty rate, virtually all Latino students at McKay passed the state's math and English MCAS tests by the time they reach the eighth grade, with 72 percent scoring proficient in English and 42 percent in math.
"The problem is not the students," said Principal Almudena Abeyta, who has led McKay for four years. "The burden is on us."
McKay and the other schools singled out by the Gastón Institute also have a higher proportion of licensed teachers who have passed state tests in the subjects they teach and are confident in their mastery of the material, the study found. Students said they felt safe and relaxed in these schools, where Spanish is spoken freely in the hallways and students translate in the classrooms for newer arrivals from Colombia, Guatemala, and Mexico.
During a recent after-school Spanish class at McKay, the lessons frequently flipped between the practical and the personal. Three fifth-grade boys corrected their teachers' pronunciation as the adults stumbled through expressions to use during parent meetings.
Then, in English, an 11-year-old from El Salvador shared the story of his dramatic 24-day journey to the United States. He, his brother, and the smuggler they were traveling with were caught by border police in Arizona. Nine days later, he was allowed to board a plane to Boston and reunite with his mother for the first time since he was born.
"We are basically breaking the barrier of being new to this country," said Jose Mata, who teaches recent immigrants in an English immersion class and runs the after-school Spanish program for teachers. "They can offer what they know to somebody. With this kind of population, more than being just an educator, you have to be a sensitive educator."
While test scores at the 675-student school are high, Abeyta said she and her staff regularly scrutinize the data to look for weaknesses, increase accountability, and improve teaching. She shares the previous year's MCAS data for each grade at the start of each school year at a schoolwide teachers meeting.
"At first it was kind of scary, posting these scores in a PowerPoint presentation," Abeyta said. "It was uncomfortable - open accountability for everyone to see. You can't hide because the data doesn't lie."
Two years ago, the analysis and lower-than-desired third-grade reading scores prompted the school to revamp its literacy program for kindergarten through second grade. Abeyta, a former kindergarten and first-grade teacher, also threw out the district's language benchmarks for young students learning English, and instead pushed those students to reach the same standards expected of native English speakers.
"MCAS doesn't differentiate, so why should we?" said Abeyta, who stressed that an early foundation in literacy is crucial for helping Latino students catch up to their higher-achieving white peers. "I can't understand having one set of standards for some kids and not the others, especially at that age when they're learning to read."
Students who struggle are also monitored closely. Teachers tutor recent immigrants and other students, starting in second grade, who have fallen behind in math and English. Middle-school students who have trouble with math get help from McKay graduates who now attend East Boston High.
"Achievement is one of our major goals here," said Brenda Figueroa, an eighth-grader who has attended McKay since kindergarten. "We never go on in class and leave a student behind."
Abeyta said she sets aside $30,000 in her budget each year to provide the extra help because parents demand it.
Keeping close tabs on students translates into fewer discipline problems, Abeyta said. Teachers know who students' friends are as well as their whereabouts, even when they skip school. Neighborhood police bring in students from the streets when they play hooky.
"And they get in trouble," said Abeyta, who lives in the neighborhood and sends her daughter to the school. "They're not going to get away with anything."
Younger troublemakers are sent to middle-school teachers "to scare them," Abeyta said; older troublemakers return to their former kindergarten teachers who get "them back into shape."
Despite the constant haranguing and exhortations to achieve, teachers and students at the close-knit school say they respect each other, and work hard for the other.
"It's the way we raised them," said Gina Freda, an eighth-grade English teacher. "After a while, we become a family."
Researchers will present their findings on Latino students in Boston public schools at 10 a.m. today at the University of Massachusetts Club, 225 Franklin St. in downtown Boston. Jan can be reached at tjan@globe.com. 