Reviews for The Street Stops Here: A Year at a Catholic High School in Harlem

The average rating for The Street Stops Here: A Year at a Catholic High School in Harlem based on 2 reviews is 4.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2013-08-26 00:00:00 Mark Lazor Understanding urban issues has been high on my radar since an unprovoked attack in January of this year. I was reading a book about schooling at the time (Back to School), which was a lucky stroke that steered me towards empathy for a product of a flawed system. The erosion of cities is a complex thing, but education is, I believe, one node of success or failure for a city or neighborhood. Also, I'm a microbiologist by profession, which sometimes evoke wonder at my intelligence and dismissal of science as "too hard". Science, history, and literature fascinate me, so I have a drive to show people that these impenetrable subjects can be fun (or at least interesting). All of that to say that this book resides at a locus of my interests. The writer spent a year at a Catholic high school in Harlem, following students, teachers, administrators, and most importantly, the principal through their lives at the school. His observations and conclusions show that he's a keen but fair audience, and that all the above trust him enough to reveal vulnerabilities that do not peek through in other areas of their life. The honest reportage is excellent longform journalism. Through all the stories, principal Orlando Gober towers over the landscape of the school. He was hired as an attempt to save a school populated primarily by minority students fighting the gravity of drugs, gangs, household abuse, and culturally-inspired machismo. Orlando is a black man with a stubborn passion for excellence, and he sees to it that his rigid standards are enforced. His grand plan included raising passing standards from 65 to a 70, holding students to a disciplinary code, and banning the N-word from campus. Some kids had to be expelled, but for the most part, students rose to the challenge, which is part of Orlando's bigger goal of raising the dignity of the black and Hispanic children in his school. My instinct in that situation would be to meet the students where they are and try to encourage them to slowly and surely improve, all while ensuring they aren't in danger of a spirit-crushing failure. Orlando's program read as counterintuitive and harsh, which that only proved how little I know about the students he's trying to reach. My coddling might work with someone from the white upper-middle class who was raised by two successful parents in a stable household, but inner city students often don't have that luxury. In a way, the school is a sociological training ground whose first lesson is simply "you can". The results are spectacular. Not only did students graduate, but some went to college, got a bachelor's degree, and escaped the poor neighborhoods of Harlem to hold down impressive jobs. Even though many students dropped out of college due to the lack of a father figure such as Orlando, the graduates spoke with reverence for Orlando and how he inspired stability and pride in their lives. It might not be success in the mold of six-figure jobs for everybody, but it's a safety net against the mire of street life. If this were a New York Times article, it would stop here, underneath the headline "Charismatic Harlem Principal Leads Students to Achieve and Believe". I wanted to believe that's where the story ends. But the author spent a full year in the school, and thus he gets to show us the complex world beyond the cover story. Yes, Orlando's regime is a surprising success, but he is abrasively stubborn and operates almost entirely on gut feel. Much like my personal historical fixation Henry Ford, when he's wrong he is wrong. He sees himself in the mold of a (non-violent) Black Panther revolutionary, fighting a conspiracy from all sides, normally incited by the white man. He picks fights. He tells his teachers how to teach. He is numb to feedback. He hires less-qualified minority candidates to show students that a black man can be a leader, but that often makes more work for everyone. A certain amount of autocracy is necessary to realize an ambitious dream, but Orlando sounds like a terror to work under. The author took the time to interview select teachers, who all recognize Orlando's brilliance with children, and learn to parry his baseless attacks against the administration with varying degrees of success. The interviews the author conducts round out the narrative and push this to 5 stars. They aren't revelations of Frost/Nixon variety, but they offer such an honest glimpse into the world of Rice High School. Orlando sees himself as performing God's work by acting as father figure, but he kills himself for the kids, and he often alienates others around him. The assistant principal enjoys jibing with one student, who is revealed later to feel threatened by the jokes, to which the assistant principal is blind. One teacher developed a meticulous code of conduct for his classroom that works quite well. Orlando makes a version of the code mandatory for all teachers, yet gives no credit to the original teacher, who quits. The students thank Orlando for his confidence, rely on him for emotional support, and reflexively battle him and the administration. When some students were expelled, I thought "good job, that will teach them a lesson." With others, I held out hope that the boy in question would hang on and do right, only to be let down again. Despite the personality that shone through the pages, some kids had to go, and the difficult reality of standing at the helm of a school was laid bare. And because it's a book about a larger social issue, it has to fit into the world and serve as an example. So, the book begins and ends with an exhortation to follow the Catholic school model and ratify voucher laws for private schools. I agree that public and charter school would be well served to adopt some of the principles in the book, but the arguments, despite being buoyed by a thick bibliography, came across as limp and not well-rounded. It's not enough to detract from the riveting human drama of the year at Rice High School, but it's a soggy bun surrounding a delicious hamburger of a book. As a whole, the book tells a story of the fragility of hope. Harlem circa 1995 was a bleak place, and the school was in danger of closing. Orlando sought to both turn around the school and the lives of its students through his rule. The teachers appreciated and resented his power. His students sought refuge and rejected him. In the end, it worked, but far from perfectly. There are more than a couple scenes that play out like a predictable horror movie. Dammit Orlando, don't open that door! I rode that wave of hope throughout the book. Look, good urban education is possible! I need to support that! Here was a guy fighting the good fight, and winning an oh-so-small corner of the world. So, I googled the high school to see if I could make a donation or at least send an appreciative email. But Rice High School is closed. The epilogue of the book hints at budget-centric instability, so it appears that money won in the end. But even as the institution of Rice High School fades, I doubt any of the students who it buoyed would call it a failure. In the end, it's a complicated, fantastic book. I have mixed feelings about urban education, the Catholic school model, and I feel woefully underinformed about the explosive issue of private school vouchers. I don't think there is a compelling unifying world vision of education presented in the book, but there is documentation of one man and his school's tireless fight for dignity and pride within the inner city. As the epilogue and my follow-up hint, maybe we're fighting the ocean and it's all bound to be washed away under mounting costs. But in the meantime, maybe there are a few more kids who can be helped.

Review # 2 was written on 2010-05-11 00:00:00 Brian Smoot This book partially resembles "And Still We Rise" because it gives an inside look at the different teaching styles found in poor urban areas, but I appreciated it more, because instead of Compton, its about Harlem, and its more current. I didn't altogether buy into the author's salesmanship of the Catholic school model, because as the book noted, the teachers suffer under this approach. Private school teachers are under-qualified or under-paid, and this leads to a high turnover, which is terrible for the teachers and the kids. Things that struck me-- -residing in a single parent home could be considered almost a necessary precondition to long-term welfare dependence. -Almost 72.5% of African American children are born out of wedlock, compared to 24% of white children." (I'm glad I read "Promises I can keep" before this, so I have a higher understanding of why THIS is happening). -the students have difficulty seeing the casual connections between effort and outcome -half the country's murders are committed by African-Americans, mostly males 14-24 years old. (ONLY 1.2% of the nation's population!). THe New Orleans documentary "Murder through the Eyes of a Child" is exploring this. -"Now I understand why some students act so immaturely in class. THey weren't able to have a normal childhood...but its safe here so it comes out." Mary McLeod Bethune's Last Will and Testament: "I leave you love; I leave you hope; I leave you the challenge of developing confidence in one another; I leave you a thirst for education; I leave you a respect for the use of power; I leave you faith; I leave you racial dignity; I leave you a desire to live harmoniously with your fellow man; I leave you, finally, a responsibility for your young people." I love this quote!