Jun 8, 2006 12:51 PM
The songwriters of the 1930s told us that “every time it rains, it rains pennies from heaven” and that we should trade them in for “a package of sunshine and flowers.”
That was a very long time ago, and most Americans think of the penny as the lowly coin they step over or can never find when the cashier rings up their bill as $4.01.
The spirit of sunshine and flowers is what students and staffers at the Hungerford School in Staten Island exude every day as they build an educational community based on dreams, love and hard work. Earlier this year, the students and staff, under the direction of Connie DeFrancesco, collected more than a few pennies — $300 worth to be exact — and distributed them to programs that serve others: the homeless, seniors, police and firefighters.
It was part of a program called “Penny Harvest,” run by a non-profit organization called Common Cents, which gave the school a $1,000 “philanthropic grant” to be distributed to organizations that the students deemed worthy.
What made the effort outstanding was the fact these special education students understood that everyone needs help, a lesson they surely learned at home and from the educators who spend their school days — and weekends — nurturing the minds, bodies and souls of the students.
One of those helping students explore their muse is Linsey Miller, the school’s art coordinator, who is particularly proud of a mural painted by students and their parents. The themes included in the work are the motto of the school: Independence, Knowledge, Acceptance and Respect. Miller also writes grants and her efforts paid off last year with a $1.2 million gift from the Annenberg Challenge.
When paraprofessional Vicki Mangiapia says “we are like a family,” she is not speaking about everyday school concerns. Clearly, she is not talking about bulletin boards, rugs, rubrics, test scores or about satisfying the Tweed bean counters. It’s something more elusive, something that can never be quantified on a spread sheet.
A visitor sees it during a celebration of “School Spirit Week” when paraprofessional Kris Kaiser plays rhythm guitar, his father Bob blows his sweet lead sax while Mary Kaiser, Kris’ mom and Bob’s wife, watches approvingly. The students are having a wild time, dancing with the staff and applauding the blues singing of physical therapist Phyllis Foreman as she belts out “Route 66.”
Family? Ask Assistant Principal Michael Pepe, who started out as a paraprofessional and became a teacher through the Ladder program. “There was one place I wanted to be and it was here,” he said.
Ask Gloria Solla, the UFT delegate, who transferred into the school and now runs the work study program. “I only heard great things about this place,” she said.
Ask the school’s parent coordinator, who needed no initiation when she applied for the job. “My daughter attended the school,” Janet Manolakos said. “And to this day, she keeps asking me if she can come back.”
The enthusiasm that pervades the school took an unexpected turn when the staff heard that the actor Jon Voight was filming a movie next door. School secretary Lorraine Alweiss and teacher Rachel Bennett had the moxie to ask him to visit the school, which he did. Later, Voight bounded up on a school bus and talked to the students. Voight visited the staff and even penned a note telling them how important they were. “I am so happy to meet the great people of this school,” he wrote. “Much love to you all.”
The students clearly understand how important their educators are. You can see it by the way they respond — whether they are ambulatory or wheelchair-bound or can’t speak without the help of a special computer. It’s not just about the smile; they know intuitively that they are being comforted and cared for every minute they are in the school.
“There is a tremendous amount of dedication and a level of excellence here,” teacher Glenna O’Hare said. “There is great concern for each student individually. There is no evil, hatred or bias. You have a beauty and wholesomeness and it makes teaching here pleasurable.”
And do they ever. A visitor can’t walk five feet in the hallways without being urged to stop by a classroom, where the unbridled enthusiasm is not about the teacher but more about how the students are progressing. The talk is about a book sale to raise money, about an upcoming literacy fair, a spring fair, the prom and a celebration of student artists being held on a Saturday. Plans are being made for two busloads of students to visit the Museum of Modern Art.
When teacher Jane Silverman explains how plants need cultivation to grow, she could be talking about herself. She is gleaming as she recounts how the students visit their garden on the grounds of the state-run Institute for Basic Research five miles away. “I like this because I am building their self-esteem and enhancing their skills and I’m helping them become part of the community,” she said. Students need emotional but also physical sustenance and that is why teacher Michael Lee can be found in Lifestyles Café, where students prepare and cook meals for the staff. Another student, Franklin, shows off his Leggos that he built himself with the aid of his teacher Joe Gualtieri. “I like Mister Joe because he encourages me to do anything,” Franklin said.
Some students are so encouraged that they decide to come back and work for the school, as Willie Washington does with the help of his paraprofessional, Robert Smith. He writes letters for the school administration, does research for the staff and downloads educational orders. “I’ve been with him eight years,” says Smith, who adds that his brother was Washington’s paraprofessional before him. “Willie’s been to my daughter’s wedding and he is always at my backyard barbecues. I consider him part of my family.”
How important is this work? Rachel Bennett perhaps summed up the feeling of the entire staff when she said simply: “These kids are my inspiration. I tried marketing before, but there is just no comparison.” Helene Toron said the best part of her day “is coming here because there is so much joy. I go home with wonderful stories about my students. My family feels like they know my students.” She said it was impossible to have a bad day working with her students. “A bad day for me,” she said, “is dealing with the overwhelming paperwork.”
Writer-in-residence Nicole Hefner doesn’t have any bad days at Hungerford and neither do her students. She was hired as part of a grant given to the Teachers and Writers Collaborative. “I see my students grow,” she said, as she prepared her lesson plan for the day, along with teacher Steve Miller and paraprofessionals Judine Henderson, Kelly Kinder, Lianna Carnemolla and Barbara Porto, who is also the school’s UFT paraprofessional representative. In a book of writings by parents, siblings, students and friends of Hungerford, Hefner wrote: “I can barely begin to express how deeply satisfying it is to witness — and experience — the love that exists between the families and friends of the school.”
Hefner walks her students through an exercise of writing poems while Miller and the paraprofessionals offer assistance to the budding poets. “What can we save today?” she asks gently. She gives examples: “We can save a dollar, save animals, save yourself.” With Hefner’s soothing encouragement and self-effacing manner, it doesn’t take long for her students to catch on. Soon, their heads are down and their pens are moving at a ferocious pace. Hefner reminds them that their poems will be published in a book called “For Spacious Skies.” Suddenly, the students want to read their work out loud. “I want to save my mommy,” one said. “I want to save happy faces,” chimed in another. As Miller leaned over to a visitor and said, sotto voce, “Isn’t this fun?” another Hungerford poet was telling her classmates how she wanted to save music for an uncomplicated reason: “It makes me want to sing to Destiny’s Child.”
Every good school usually has an extraordinary chapter leader. While praising the students, Tracy Pedersen had a lot to say about her chapter leader, Al Vota, who plays the role of traffic cop, quarterback on a football team, part-time counselor and the Shell Answer Man. “He helps the members with everything,” said Pedersen. “Whenever we have a question about my tax deferred annuity or health plan issues, he is there for all of us.”
Vota credits the principal, Mary McInerney, with being a “wonderful” administrator who believes in collaboration. “Everything that happens here she shares with me,” Vota said. “She wants the spotlight on everyone but herself.” When McInerney is asked why the school runs so well, she is equally magnanimous. “Al Vota and the staff,” she says, adding that “we are all union members and I consider everyone here part of a family.”
McInerney said Vota surveys the staff twice a year and she tries to work with them to make the school run better. “The secret to success of this school is to meet the needs of the staff,” she added, “and they are always open to creative ideas. We have an open-door policy,” McInerney said. “Parents and staff know we have nothing to hide.” She is fast to point out that the school was recognized with a Blue Ribbon award from the U.S. Department of Education for collaboration between the staff and the administration.
Hungerford also attracts those who had other careers before teaching. Keisha Vasquez served seven years as a New York City police officer. She has a degree in history from SUNY. “The police department was a lot more stressful than this,” she said. She also abhors the paperwork, but gets her feedback from a student’s mother, who wrote her a note saying, “I love you.” Vota chimes in about the paperwork. “[The Department of Education] wants measurable outcomes for everything. But you can’t do that here; it’s not just about getting a grade.” Vota says he likes the school because “every day I am learning.”
Some educators at the school have knowledge about the disabilities from personal experience. Irwin Siegel is a one-on-one paraprofessional who gets uplifted “knowing I can help teach a child how to deal with a social situation.” Before his life at Hungerford, he owned a custom mirror company. “My wife is a special ed teacher and my daughter is a speech teacher,” he said. “I had an older brother who died from a disability and I have a son who is handicapped.” His colleague, paraprofessional Maggie Ryan, said she has a disabled uncle who lives with her family. “My sister teaches autistic kids and my mom was a paraprofessional here,” she added.
“I never want to leave my job,” she said, summing up the esprit de corps of the entire staff. “The kids love us unconditionally.” Her sentiment was shared by the 2006 class president, Timothy J. Slow, who also served as editor of the school newspaper, The Hungerford Press. In a boffo speech delivered at the end of the graduates’ party, he said poignantly: “This is the best school I have ever attended. All good things must come to an end but I will never forget all the good times we had together.”
And neither will his educators who are busy building castles of dreams in Staten Island, even as they cope with the new budget edict from DOE: the reward for the school’s astounding success is a cut of four positions for the upcoming new school year.