By Christopher J. Gearon

Walking into Martin Luther King Jr. Academic Magnet, once Nashville's premier black high school, the first things a visitor notices are buckets arranged to catch drips from the leaking roof, stained and damaged walls that serve as bad art, and the lack of basic amenities in this math and sciences magnet for seventh through 12th grade. The mold sets off junior Tabitha Johnson's allergies. One day, a falling blade from a worn industrial fan nearly clocked junior Blake Ezell. Students and faculty share the 1930s-era building with such brazen rodents that Principal Schunn Turner says she keeps her purse in a plastic container while at work "so I don't bring home any unwanted guests."

Welcome to one of the nation's top high schools (No. 30 on the U.S. News Best High Schools list). Martin Luther King isn't an anomaly. Not far away, at Hume-Fogg Academic Magnet (No. 26 on the U.S. News list), things are worse, says Joe Edgens, executive director of facilities and operations at Metropolitan Nashville Public Schools. Hume-Fogg's classical, century-old exterior belies problems inside: The roof and floors are shot, and "we're the only high school in the state without a functioning gym," says the principal, Paul Fleming, who has waited more than 10 years for the district to provide one. He says the physical state of the school ranks in parental surveys as "the No. 1 concern."

Dilapidated schools are not unique to Nashville, Edgens says.

Districts nationwide are dealing with aging, deteriorating schools in the face of crumbling capital and maintenance budgets, made worse by the economy. One quarter of U.S. school districts report deferring maintenance this school year, nearly twice last year's number, according to the American Association of School Administrators. This year, 1 in 10 districts is delaying a capital debt or bond program, the funding sources for new school construction, existing facility renovation, technology purchases, bus replacement, and systems repair or upgrade. American Recovery and Reinvestment Act funds have enabled schools to save jobs and programs (the money helped Nashville hold on to 300 teachers and plugged a $14 million operating budget gap), but capital budgets are hurting. "It's been pretty tough," says Bill Partin, executive director of the Tennessee School Plant Management Association. "That's where school systems cut first, in operations and facilities. It's something you don't see the effects of for a few years."

At Walnut Hills High School in Cincinnati (No. 66 on the U.S. News list), Principal Jeffery Brokamp worries that the worn-down building, built in 1932, doesn't reinforce the "opportunity to excel" message he and the faculty send to students. "This school represents the No. 1 opportunity in the lives of many of our kids," says Brokamp. The danger, he adds, is when kids begin thinking, "Maybe the community really doesn't value what we do."

Scratching the surface.

For Edgens, it's a moving target. Nashville's newly adopted 10-year facility master plan includes construction of a new gym at Hume-Fogg next year and further renovations over the next nine years. A facilities assessment of the 137 schools ranks Hume-Fogg as the worst off among the district's 12 high schools. In a good year, with a capital budget of about $68 million, Edgens can keep up with the system's needs--including building new schools, renovating at least a half-dozen schools a year, buying buses, and upgrading technology. This year he has $62 million; last year he had zero. "You have to constantly readjust," he says. "Everyone is up against that."

Meanwhile, MLK got the fourth-lowest score among Nashville high schools in the facilities assessment, says Edgens, whose daughter graduated from MLK before going on to New York University. Since the very worst schools are being addressed first, that means MLK must wait its turn for renovations, perhaps until 2014. And it means that the rodents, which have been known to eat food from the vending machines and the concession area, might not be going anywhere for a while. "All of Nashville should be concerned that we are educating the best and brightest in a broken-down building," Turner says.

In the face of such disrepair, how do MLK and Hume-Fogg continue to stand out academically? "It's the people: one, two, three," Turner notes, meaning the students, faculty, and parents who make MLK a top high school. "You can give my teachers chalk and a chalkboard, and special things will happen," he says.

Students must meet challenging academic requirements and, as with other city magnets, survive a lottery to get into the school. The typical MLK pupil represents the top 10 percent to 15 percent of Nashville-area students academically. Teachers, in turn, want to work where students are extremely engaged. MLK's mission is to prepare students for postsecondary study in the fields of health sciences and engineering. And 99 percent of the school's graduates go on to four-year colleges.

"Coming to Harvard was not a huge transition, because I feel like MLK is just like a mini-Harvard," says Rose Wang, a college freshman and MLK graduate. "Before we even stepped onto [the high school] campus, we knew that the bar was set pretty high, and there was no way to overcome it except through time and effort."

"We draw the best faculty," boasts MLK senior Cody Simons. Junior Brandon Holt says the dedication of teachers outweighs the distractions of an iffy building. For example, he says, when he was struggling with a chemistry honors class last year, his teacher gave up planning periods to spend one-on-one time to get him up to speed. "I'm taking an AP chemistry class this year," he says. Language arts teacher Katherine Burgun, in her third year at MLK, says her previous teaching position afforded her a shorter drive, smaller class sizes, and amenities like reliable heating, cooling, and ventilation. "I am more than willing, however, to make these small sacrifices to work with such a high-caliber faculty and student body who are all committed to the education process," she says.

"With all the amazing teachers, students, counselors, and staff, there was no need to focus on why the lockers didn't open half the time or why the men's soccer team changed outside," says Jake Rudin, an '09 MLK graduate and a freshman at Cornell University.

Besides, students and faculty say they feel privileged being at a school known for both its academics and history. The school named for the slain civil rights leader opened in 1986 in the building that once housed Pearl High School. Pearl was part of the "primary zone for meetings and trainings for the Nashville sit-ins, which resulted in one of the first true movements for change in the segregated South," explains social studies teacher Joy York, who integrates the building's history into a senior humanities course. After Nashville schools were desegregated, magnets were established at inner-city schools. "The people made the community a very special place, and the building sort of came second," says Rudin. "In my mind, the building was simply a vessel in which the community could flourish and grow."

A lasting impact.

Still, students aren't blind to the limitations of such an aging structure. While the school helped prepare her for a smooth transition to Harvard, Wang says she would have preferred a less "cagelike feel" at MLK.

"The facilities do get in the way of broadening our curriculum," says junior Antwan Steele. Technology is lacking in classrooms, but the electrical infrastructure can't support the school's limited technology anyway. The labs are in "horrible condition," says Turner. Steele recalls electrical outlets not working in one chemistry lab and sparks shooting out of others. Students eat lunch in hallways and classrooms because the cafeteria is too small. The band room is overcrowded. The baseball team practices 15 minutes away, and Simons laments MLK's lack of a track team and weight room.

"Schools should be palaces to what we believe," says Cincinnati's Brokamp. "There should be no building more impressive than our school buildings."

That may have been the thinking when the Jeffersonian-inspired school was built, but decades of kids have taken a toll at Walnut Hills. Except for a new technology wing, funded largely by an alumni foundation, Walnut Hills teachers rely mainly on the old blackboards. The school needs new technology, a new roof and floor, and an overall internal makeover.

After more than a dozen years of planning, Walnut Hills is slated to get a $65 million makeover at school year's end. "We've literally worked every day for years on this project," Brokamp says. One of the best parts of the renovation, and one that Nashville schools can also look forward to: "We won't have to remind them about the opportunities here. They'll know."

 

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Education: Success Testament to Teachers and Students | Christopher J. Gearon

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