Notoriety Update For Pinellas Schools

A couple of weeks ago this column referenced the ignominy of Pinellas County as it was singled out by the Schott Foundation for Public Education for having the lowest percentage of black male graduates of any major school district in the country. Approximately 20 percent. Beyond disgrace.

It was noted that the school district, after questioning Schott’s methodology, would be pushing the usual pedagogical buttons: more remedial classes, study halls and mentors as well as a plea for better administrators, teachers and pay. Of course. Obviously that can always help, but chronic black underachievement is its own, unique societal pathology. Home and ‘hood environment and student attitudes are indispensable components. Prominent among the Pinellas County laggards: Gibbs and Lakewood High Schools.

The new school year has barely begun, so it’s too early for assessments. But not too early for signs and symptoms. Lakeland’s football game against Gibbs last Friday was ended a few minutes prematurely. Gunfire near the field had players dropping for cover and fans exiting anxiously.

Pinellas County schools, especially these two, are being closely scrutinized. They’re under the gun. But that’s supposed to be a metaphor.

ATV Lunacy

It’s pretty well documented that life can be fraught with dangers. Much of it wrong-place, wrong-time happenstance. A fateful flight, a tragic encounter.

But then there are the fate-tempting occurrences we read about all the time. About those who create mayhem on the roads by texting while driving. About those who somehow manage to be part of an accident involving a train. About those who must have a pet python.

And then there is the disturbing trend of those — often teenagers — who can’t confine themselves and their all-terrain vehicles to off-road venues. For what it’s worth, Florida law formally prohibits their use on paved roads. Statistically, approximately 10,000 people have died in ATV accidents in the U.S. since 1982. One in four victims was under the age of 16.

Back in July, two Dade City teens died when their ATV collided with a SUV on a paved road near Sumter County. Most recently four Hudson youths, ages 12 to 16, were seriously injured when their ATV, a single-rider Honda Sports Trac, collided with a pickup on a paved road in Pasco County.

One detail in particular transcends the modus operandi of ATV riders behaving badly — and endangering themselves and others. The Hudson kids — ages 12, 13, 15 and 16 — were badly hurt at 2 a.m. And as we well know, nothing good happens at 2 a.m. — especially to kids. That’s on somebody else’s conscience.

SoHo And The City Council

It’s a scenario most of us can sympathize with, and a lot of us can empathize with: neighborhood dynamics. They change — and not always for the better.

To wit, residents living in old, established communities behind the South Howard (SoHo) district are less than pleased that a street dotted with family restaurants has been morphing into Ybor, the Sequel. The usual issues.

But in all fairness, merchants along a commercial strip deserve consideration, especially during the Great Recession. But it’s not a matter requiring Solomonic sobriety.

Vested interests were on display at City Council last week when The Lime Restaurant requested permission to extend its business hours: from 11 p.m. to midnight, Sunday through Thursday, and midnight to 2 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays. Enough to matter to those in the dining and imbibing business — and enough to matter to those who prefer the sounds of silence at such hours. Council approved the later-hours request by a 4-3 vote.

Two points.

Inevitably, such conflicts are reduced to rights of commerce vs. quality of life. As if the two are mutually exclusive. Curtis Stokes, voting with the majority, gave gross over-simplification a bad name. “I think we should take government out of the lives of private businesses,” he noted. “I have a moral problem with us impeding this establishment’s right to make a living.” That sounds more like a Republican talking point than a deliberative response to early-morning, neighborhood scenarios. South Howard isn’t Dale Mabry.

Second, does the 4-3 vote break-out signify a de facto pattern of more than passing interest for anyone coming before this council? The 3-member minority were Chairman Tom Scott, Charlie Miranda and Mary Mulhern. The majority were the two rookies, (resulting from the untimely, premature departures of John Dingfelder and Linda Saul-Sena) Stokes and Yoli Capin, and the two proven lightweights, Joe Caetano and Gwen Miller.

Ferry Tale No More For Tampa Bay?

Over the years, the prospects of a Tampa Bay ferry service have come and gone with the tides. In fact, just last year the Tampa Bay Area Regional Transportation Authority’s master plan included a possible ferry connection between the downtowns of St. Petersburg and Tampa. Now we have a (federally-funded) feasibility study ordered up by the Hillsborough County Metropolitan Planning Authority to see if such an idea might finally float. Results are expected by the end of the year.

“I think it’s a fabulous opportunity for tourism,” pointed out Karen Kress, the Tampa Downtown Partnership’s director of transportation and planning. “I think the jury is still out for commuting.”

Frankly, that jury will likely be out indefinitely. This is not San Francisco, Seattle or New York. Light rail is still too problematic for many Bay Area motorists. Plus, it would take at least an hour to travel the 18 nautical miles between Tampa and St. Pete downtowns. But for visitors and non-commuting locals who want to be uniquely privy to what truly makes this area so special — their ship might finally be coming in.

One Size Fits None

There’s a lot not to like about mandatory (hard cap) class-size rules once you get beyond the ideal that, all things being equal, smaller teacher-to-student ratios are always better. But all things–from the economy to budgets to certified teachers to facilities–never are.

But what is particularly off-putting is a formula of rewards and penalties, approved by the Legislature last year, associated with compliance–whether by adding more portables, doing more co-teaching or just refusing new registrants no matter where they live. In effect, it pits districts against each other–as if class-size pressures and dynamics were equal.

Hillsborough, for example, could miss out on millions of dollars if it is found to be even a couple of students over the limit when the state makes its official tally next month. As it now stands, however, it looks more likely that the county could reap $30 million or more in rewards. The reward money would come at the expense of those penalized for not complying with the final phase of the class-size amendment that voters approved in 2002.

And then there’s this. In November, voters will get a chance to roll back the class-size limits to last year’s more manageable requirement. Timing, indeed, is everything.

“The Wilder Show’s” Other Message

OK, I’m old school. There are, I’d like to believe, worse afflictions. The most recent manifestation: A skeptical reaction to what amounted to “The James Wilder Jr. Show” last week — live from Plant High School in South Tampa.

For the uninitiated, Wilder is a very, very good, high school football player and by all accounts a nice kid. Every major college program in the country would love to have him on its campus and in its stadium. So, for rabid fans of high school and college football — and the ubiquitous media that chronicles it all — it was a big deal for Wilder to finally announce where he planned to go to school next year. Reportedly, it had come down to Georgia, Florida and Florida State. 

So the Bright House Sports Network carved out a half hour to go live and showcase — and orchestrate — Wilder’s decision. Not unlike the NBA’s LeBron James — in his controversial, prime-time, ESPN-enabled revelation of where he would take his free agency (Miami) — Wilder waited until near the end of the show to finally reveal his choice of FSU. Grid drama to die for.

Here’s what’s inherently wrong with this scenario. It’s part of an athletes-as-a-spoiled-class continuum. One where the rules are often customized or compromised and the lionization starts early. High school hero worship as reality TV.

At one end of that continuum are professional sports, most notably football. The NFL is arguably as much about show business as football. The networks are in bed with those they cover. That’s why cameras linger on those whose jobs include playing for their teams — as well as to the cameras. Cheerleaders are chorus-line eye candy for the usual demographic. It’s about pedestaled stars, boorish swagger, juvenile choreography, huckstering talking heads and TV ratings. That’s why it needs Tim Tebow more than he needs the NFL.

Alas, college football — with all that rides on TV money, conference affiliations, booster pressure  and bowl-game scenarios — keeps ratcheting up the ante on winning. Too many “student athletes” are oxymoronic Hessians. Too many have already mastered look-at-me narcissism. That’s because they’ve been catered to and spoiled and told how special they are from high school.

And that’s why I have an issue with “The James Wilder Show.” We’re talking high school. A man-child is still a teen. And it’s still just about football — not a salute to a lad who’s a paragon of community volunteerism or a shout out to an aspiring cancer researcher. It seems like it’s too much publicity and too much enabling of the sort of self-important attitudes too often manifested by prominent athletes in our culture.

Can a kid, especially one so gifted, remain grounded when all those around him remind him, in effect, that he’s above it all? That he warrants his own, well, show? Lights, camera, perspective?

And yet.

There are other perspectives. One is that of Wilder’s coach, Robert Weiner. He sent out pro forma e-mails to Wilder’s family, friends and the media. He shared the stage before Wilder’s announcement that he would be a ‘Nole next year.

“As an educator (he’s also an English teacher), I want to find out what is special about all of my students and all of my players,” says Weiner. “But we don’t want to contribute to a feeling of entitlement. It’s a fine line…There’s a lot of hoopla, if you will, that’s created by the media. But when I spoke, I said very little about James’ football ability. More about his personal growth.”

And such announcements and ceremonies are nothing new at Plant. Every player who signs to play at the next level gets one. The week before Wilder’s highly hyped announcement, the media took note of the early commitments of quarterback Philip Ely and tackle Tony Posada to Alabama and Michigan, respectively.  It was “news.” Last year six Plant kids who signed with non-marquee, smaller schools were also feted — in the context of family and friends — with a ceremony and video highlights. Even though it wasn’t “news” — and went uncovered by the media.

“We want them to remain grounded and humble,” underscores Weiner. “But we won’t stop having celebratory moments. I know that in the end, we’ve created a special moment for a young man. Everything else is the collateral experience around it.”

And know this about the uber successful Weiner, whose teams have been state champions three of the last four years. He takes a back seat to no one when it comes to putting things about young people into perspective. That’s why he brings Plant players to a muscular dystrophy camp each summer to work as counselors. It’s why players, including Friday night heroes, help organize Saturday morning “Panther Pride Challenge Football” adaptive games for disabled youths.  

It’s why he stresses another facet of announcement ceremonies, including the Wilder one. “It’s an opportunity to say thanks,” emphasizes Weiner. “To say, ‘Mom, I love you.’ A public forum that we would all like to have — to sincerely and honestly thank those who helped us get to that spot.”

And one more thing. ESPN will televise Plant’s preseason game at Bradenton Manatee as well as a mid-September matchup on the road against Abilene (Texas) HS, which right now is ESPN’s top-ranked team in the country — with Plant at number two.

Is ESPN getting carried away with nationally televised high school games — and all the attendant publicity and pressure it inherently involves? Probably. Will I be watching? For sure. Go, Panthers.

Graduation Rates

Not that it was a total surprise, but it’s still a shocking statistic.  A study by the Cambridge, Mass.-based Schott Foundation for Public Education has singled out Pinellas County for national notoriety. It graduates, states Schott, the lowest percentage of black males of any major school district in the country. In the COUNTRY. Approximately 20 percent. One in five.

The school district and the schools will–again–seek to address black underachievement–after questioning the Foundation’s methodology. Calls have already gone out for initiatives–more remedial classes, more study halls, more mentors as well as better principals, better teachers, and better pay.

As my African-American friend Joe Brown, the former Tampa Tribune editorial board stalwart, has often pointed out. Education is a “three-legged stool.” The school and its teachers, the students, the parents. Absent any one leg, the stool collapses.

This is not what M.L. King, Medgar Evers and Rosetta Parks had in mind.

Mini Minaret

OK, it’s probably nit-picky. But I think the Tampa Bay Host Committee for the 2012 Republican National Convention could have done a better job with the design of the logo that accompanies its website. The downtown skyline, the undulating lines of a waterfront and a prominent palm tree all work, but that’s generic Florida. Could be Jacksonville. Unfortunately what is truly iconic about Tampa, its minarets, are slighted and largely lost in the mix.

City Council Contretemps

While attending a Tampa City Council session the other night–one that devolved into a welter of confusion over byzantine, anomalous and “patchwork” land-use zoning–I was confronted with this sobering reality. Have we ever had a less impressive City Council?  Raw rookies and confirmed lightweights dominate. And Charlie Miranda, more wise guy than elder, too often appeared more enamored of his role as resident, homespun wit than voice of institutional history, reason and common sense.   

Speaking of Miranda, his personality shtick also included the off-putting, badgering treatment of Bruce Cury, who was speaking in opposition to a request by residential street-based St. John’s Episcopal Church and Parish Day School to change its land-use designation from residential (R-10) to Public/Semi Public (PSP). Cury wears some other hats. He’s an attorney as well as the unflappable chairman of the Hillsborough County City-County Planning Commission. The PC had already passed along the St. John’s land use-change request to city council.

Cury was trying to explain that he had recused himself in his PC role but was now speaking as just another Hyde Park resident voicing neighborhood concerns. The dyspeptic Miranda did more than not play the professional-courtesy card.  He played to the capacity crowd and reveled in a rude, rhetorical, gotcha exchange that used up a good chunk of Cury’s time. He wasn’t granted any additional.

Perhaps the county’s “Bully Busters” campaign needs to look beyond the schools.

County Schools Kick Off Gates Era

With the start of a new school year imminent, Hillsborough County is now geared for year one of its $200-million partnership with the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. One that will hopefully kick start the process of yielding ever better, more accountable, properly rewarded teachers — the key ingredient in the learning process. To be sure, there’s no lack of assessment and accountability tools, nor — after a deliberative, workshop-dominated selection process — a dearth of assessors.

And yet.

That’s a lot of money — that needs to be matched — that might possibly be better utilized in recruitment and incentives.

I wish I disagreed with most research and evidence that indicates that the really good teachers — the kind we all want our own kids to be exposed to — are born, not made. But mentors, it should be acknowledged, can help. They can help the good to get better. But they can’t help the bad to become good.

As a former teacher, I’ve seen it. Students, involved parents, fellow teachers, coaches, police resource officers, guidance counselors, librarians, administrators and probably school bus drivers and cafeteria personnel can all tell you who the good teachers are. It has little or nothing to do with degrees, National Board certification, resumes, seniority or even sample lessons.

But it’s that obvious. It’s that acknowledged. The best teachers flat out know their stuff. They didn’t do better in, say, educational psychology than the subject they actually teach. And they’re tough; they’re demanding; they’re fair; they’re consistent; they’re common sensical; they’re funny; and they’re creative, spontaneous and relevant without being gimmicky. They can use pop culture without pandering to it. They’re also respected — because they’ve earned it.

Dedication is a given. Their reputations precede them. Class to class. Year to year. A self-perpetuating cycle of excellence.

Everybody also knows who’s ineffective because they’re boring and discipline-challenged. They know who’s frazzled and hopes to escape to counseling or administration or Mary Kay. They know who tenure protects and insulates from accountability and having to compete in the private sector.

I trust the county’s Gates partnership will validate these real-world verities, ultimately puncture the cocoon of tenure for slackers and maybe even get creative in diverting funds to help recruit the best and brightest, where the real payoff will be.