For young Latinas, hope
A new Lawrence school opens their eyes to opportunities
Until this year, Rosa Segura didn't have fun in school. Reading felt like a forced chore, social studies bored her, and math . . . don't get her started. By all accounts, her grades weren't great, and she knew that.
But no one had to tell the 11-year-old that if she didn't change her study habits, she would be in danger of falling further behind. And if that happened, her future seemed bleak. All she had to do was look around her Lawrence neighborhood.
Then along came the Esperanza Academy .
The new, all-girls private school appeared to be a place where Segura could get the attention she needed. The school's founders promised smaller classes, multiple after-school activities, and a dedicated staff. Segura -- and her family -- would just have to promise to remain committed to the school's rigorous schedule.
Over the first four months of the school year, Laurie Bottiger , Esperanza's head of school, said teachers can already see the difference in Segura. She studies more. She asks questions in class. She gives school tours to visitors. She is starting even to like math, a little.
"They say I do the best, like, on the tests. I get the highest" grades, said Segura. "That's what they say."
In a city with the highest teen pregnancy rate in the state and a median family income of just $17,000 in some neighborhoods, the stakes are high for Lawrence middle school students like Segura. Early intervention and targeted academic support, educators say, is especially required during these formative years to prevent students from becoming a negative statistic.
That's why organizers felt Lawrence needed an all-girls middle school. The school, a joint venture between Christ Episcopal Church in Andover and Grace Episcopal Church in Lawrence , was formed after a study found that middle school girls were at greatest risk of failure in this city.
"Parents want the kids to do well, of course," said Bottiger. "They just have two things in their way. One of them is that often they are working and aren't able to be home" to take care of their children. "The other is a language barrier."
Put those two together, said Bottiger, and some young girls won't have help with homework or a guardian right after school -- the most crucial hours for middle school children.
After three years of fund-raising and community meetings, the school opened in September in a building next to Grace Episcopal Church with 42 girls -- 21 fifth-graders and 21 sixth -graders.
Students from Lawrence families who are at 60 percent or lower of the state's poverty level were invited to apply. Students were then chosen by a lottery system, said Bottiger. In three years, Bottiger said, she wants to have a student body of 80 and serve fifth through eighth grade.
Almost all of the students are from Puerto Rican and Dominican families. Some have learning disabilities. Others come from broken families. But when they come through the door, teachers and staff take those problem head on. "It's baby steps every day," said Bottiger.
Those baby steps have introduced the girls to different ways of viewing math, a new book, even the game of chess.
Life at Esperanza is hardly typical of that at nearby public middle schools, or even high schools. Students arrive at 7:30 a.m. and don't finish until 6:30 p.m. They get three meals a day, as well as scheduled study sessions for which teachers, tutors, and volunteers are ready at a moment's notice.
As part of the agreement, parents must donate at least two hours a week to help cook and clean. Sometimes, some students don't leave the school until 9 p.m.
During a recent math class, students took turn s adding fractions on the board while their peers double-checked each other's work. After the problems were solved, each developed her own graph to illustrate how she came to her conclusion. When a fellow student was stuck, others explained the next step, sometimes in Spanish.
Bottiger said the goal is to create an environment that fosters academic rigor along with nutrition, so the students will have all of the tools necessary to learn as if they were at a college prep school.
"And you see the effects. The girls are self-confident. They ask questions and they speak in public," said Bottiger. "People may think they aren't capable. But they are capable."
Ashley Urbaez , 12 , said she likes the extra study help after school. But she also likes the other after-school programs. "We get to do theater, knitting, and other stuff we should learn," she said. "We play games sometimes. We do homework. It's not boring."
Urbaez said Esperanza also has helped her develop a love for science. "We get to do cool experiments," she said.
Even the school's name is geared toward sparking inspiration. The word esperanza means hope in Spanish. It's also the name of the main character in "House on Mango Street ," the Sandra Cisneros novel about a Latina trying to navigate through a world of poverty, family obligations, and education.
Tuition for the all-girls private school runs about $12,000 per student annually. But Bottiger said none of the students' families pay a dime. That's because the school has aggressively sought donors who agree to sponsor a girl for a year, said Bottiger.
Just how well students will do academically remains to be seen. Since they attend a private school, Esperanza students do not have to take the state's MCAS tests. However, Bottiger said , because of the school's "Nativity" model -- a demanding curriculum based on Judeo-Christian values targeting at-risk students -- she is confident the students will do well after they leave Esperanza. Other Nativity schools boast a 90 percent high school graduation rate.
Bottiger said she is already developing an image of the day that first Esperanza girl walks across a stage to get her high school diploma. "I know they can do it. I know they will do it," she said. "I know it won't be easy every day, but we have so much opportunity to show the world that it can happen."
But she said the real reward will be when the girls, as young women, get their college degrees.
"I will completely dissolve 11 years from now when our girls graduate from college," said Bottiger, holding back tears. "Because we tell them every day that they are going."
Russell Contreras can be reached at rcontreras@globe.com. 