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Students Behind the Statistics

From the Hood to the Hallways

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www.sil iconvalleydebug.com / / www.myschoolmysv.org

a De -Bug H igh publ ication

If I Was Principal For A Day

De-Bug is proud to bring you this special edition publi-cation, “If My Teacher Only Knew: Schoolin’ the Schools.” It is a diary as much as it is a call to action, to take a hard look at our public schools, and to listen to those most equipped to lead to their improvements – the students themselves. We’ve all heard the statistics of failing school systems, but rarely heard are the personal stories of the students who have to sit in those classrooms or what those realities mean to their future. Through doing workshops at schools and youth organizations all across Silicon Valley, as well as just putting the call out to students, we are able to put out this magazine. From East Palo Alto to South San Jose, these young writers and artists are breaking the silence. Also, be sure to check out the videos youth made about their educa-tion at: http://vimeo.com/channels/debugvoices.

On the cover is Daniel, a 17-year-old student who at-tended five different schools in San Jose. If anyone knows what needs to be improved in our schools and how, it’s him. As Daniel traveled through the different schools, get-ting passed on to the next, so did a perception of him by administrators and teachers who didn’t see his potential. He was labeled a trouble-maker, but he says given a label, even a bad one, is better than a common alternative – not being noticed at all. He says, “Any attention or recognition

was better than none.” Daniel’s doing good now, and as you will read, is a talented writer. Like Daniel’s story, you’ll hear from more students like the new millennium schedule, immigrant youth, and students who have to work to support their families. We also have to see the perspective of a high school teacher as she journals what it’s like to be in school for her first year. These are the stories that cross through the hallways, that go beyond the numbers. These are the experiences that make up a roadmap for change.

01. My Deaf Counselor Who Heard Me The Most02. High School PTSD03. If I Was Principal For A Day04. Preppy Kids Get Attention. I Know, I Was One05. Diary Of A First Year Public School Teacher06. What Students Want Their Teachers To Know09. When The Teacher Doesn’t Know Your Name10. How I Dropped Back Into School11-14. The Voices Behind The Numbers15-16. Comic: At The Bottom Of East Palo Alto17. When An Hour Test Can Define Your Whole High School Career18. Innocence (Lyrics)19. From Honduras To High School20. Go Smart Mural

Last year, my brother and I attended Overfelt High School. My brother was picked up by San Jose police for something he didn’t do, and was later cleared of. The school officials didn’t tell my moth-

er when my brother was picked up. She was so upset that she removed us from that school and enrolled us in Santa Teresa High. That is where I had the opportunity to meet the person that made a big difference in my life, not to men-tion my education. His name is Mr. Lieberman, my case manager. He is partially deaf; however, that didn’t stop him from com-municating with me, regardless of his “disability” and to this day, he is the one person that actually stopped and paid attention to what I had to say. I felt that I was actually being heard at school for the first time in my life. After having some issues at school, I was told I have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and the doctors told my mom that it would help if I took a medication called Concerta. My mom wasn’t going to go with that. She thought that if the administrators would learn to understand the needs of someone having ADHD, then they would be able to help me without having to put me on drugs. But even though the schools were the ones who said I had ADHD, it didn’t matter, and I would always

end up in trouble. I was also tested and was deemed Gifted and Talented and quali-

fied for the GATE pro-gram. This, mixed with ADHD, can be bad or good for a student at school. Administrators and teachers don’t know how to handle a student with this mix.

There’s one as-sistant principal at Santa Teresa High who for some rea-son or another didn’t like me. In an incident where

he assumed I was doing something wrong, I challenged him mentally. I thought it would be funny since he messed with me all the time. He was staring at me for no reason and then yelled out in front of everybody, “Hey Dannyrey, come here!” I deliberately, in a fast motion, acted as if I had something in my hands and stuck them in my pockets. I went to him and he said, “What’s in your pockets?” I asked him why. He then told me to go to the office. I got to the office and he told me to give it up. I told him I had noth-ing. He called the campus cop. The officer came in and said that he had the right to search me. I told them that he didn’t because I knew my rights and I wasn’t on probation. I had nothing. He searched me anyway and found nothing. They still suspended me. The assistant principal called my house and left a message about suspending me on our voicemail. But he didn’t hang up the phone correctly and continued yelling and cursing about me on the voicemail. The next time I saw him, I asked him why he was calling me names and he said, “Because I can.” Incidents like this happened all the time at school – teachers and administra-tors misusing their authority. That’s why Mr. Leiberman was so different. He was more about showing me the power I had, rather than the power he had. In some way, I was getting prepared to work with him before I even met him. A few years back, my mom took sign language classes, and I would go with her and learn. That is where I picked up a little sign language, which turned out to be useful when communicating with Mr. Lieberman. When I would sign and talk, he would just watch me and listen to what I had to say, giving me input by sign-ing and at the same time talking to me. He never brushed me off by saying, “Yeah, yeah, yeah...whatever. You’re young and don’t know any better”, things that other coun-selors did. He validated me, made me feel like a person with a mission in life, and that there was a purpose for me. He was the first adult on a campus that didn’t make me feel like just another young stupid kid that doesn’t know any better. Mr. Lieberman said something to me one day that really helped me deal with the issues I had with the vice principal. He told me I couldn’t let people stand in my way, that I needed to do what I had to do to complete my edu-cation. I asked my mom to move me to a different school because of some of the staff treatment I dealt with. It was sad that I had to leave my friends and the one instructor that really mattered, but it was like he said – “I had to follow my path to a successful life.” The lesson I learned from him that I think goes beyond just school was when he said, “Danny Rey, you are intelligent, smart and know what you want in life. Keep going, and do it for yourself.” And that is exactly what I’m going to do.

After having some issues at school, I was told I have At-tention Deficit Hy-peractivity Disor-derorder (ADHD)

by Danny Rey, Overfelt and Santa Teresa

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I walked into class and sat in my desk. The table remind-ed me of the dinner table from yesterday, except it was me and 20 other students. I tried to focus while I gave blank stares and flash fake smiles. No screaming, no

angry dad. Just me at my desk trying to focus, sitting at a table like last night. We were eating at the dinner table, dad always yell-ing at me to keep my elbows off the table. If I didn’t lis-ten, he would jump and reach across the table, smacking me across the head screaming, “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME BOY!” From his voice and angry face, it made me lose my appetite. Hearing him again screaming, “You’re not leaving this table until you finish your whole plate!” My appetite was at a loss but I had to force myself to eat as much as I could. I was scared of what would happen next. Here in class I wondered, will this education help me fulfill my dreams and desires of life? Yesterday night makes me hate everything, I looked at my teachers as brainwash-ers. Just sitting in the desk jumps my blood. I want to throw the desk out the window and run out. I hate going to school. I can’t sit here being forced to be 100% focused. All the drama in my life and the last thing I want to do is being told to pass this test on Friday. I work up all this courage inside to keep going to school and still my home is failing constantly while I watch everyone enjoy themselves with an A. Looking at my fellow classmates I wonder, how do they get all their nice clothes? I’ve been wearing the same box-ers and socks for the last three days now. They all have nice haircuts, expensive electronics and cell phones. I only can focus on what I don’t have. It’s obvious. It’s embar-rassing. I get called upon to read in front of the class. I’m not

embarrassed of my reading skills as much as being obvi-ously poor. But why should I read though? I don’t have my book. She yaps at me for not being prepared. Her demands remind me of my father. Everyone was done eating dinner. Dad went into the living room and began to watch TV. As he was watching his TV, he was scoping me like a hawk, looking at me picking at my food. I remembered the face he gave me while he found something to scream at me for. It made me too scared to finish, so I stopped forcing the food into my mouth. Mom came up to me and picked up the half empty plate to take to the kitchen. Dad bolted at her, “What the f**k! He’s not done until I say so!’’ “Just quit it already. He needs to wash up and get ready for school tomorrow. It’s late already,” mom said. I sat at the kitchen table looking at them not knowing if I should get up. Mom talked so calm and relaxed; that’s how I knew she was scared. I could feel her heartbeat pumping a mil-lion times per minute. We just waited until dad snapped like he always did. Mom protected me with her words and then seconds later, it was the same as before. She’s going to get tossed around the kitchen by my dad. It’s in my backpack. Why should I read in front of these kids? F**k them. Hearing her call me out in front of the class and being chewed out by my teacher who only sees me 5 hours a week reminded me of my voided father. If I had the juice, I would throw this book at her. Just seemed like more screaming and yelling like yesterday. In the front of the class I stood there, helpless. I read a book in front of the class. A book I didn’t care about, that I don’t understand, reciting words with other thoughts in my head. My teacher calls my name during roll call, I’m “pres-ent” but not present. That was class for me, that was my family dinner.

Mr. Fresh, James Lick High School

Illo by Jeysson

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Show the Exit to the Exit ExamsYeseria, Pegasus High SchoolIf I ran San Jose schools, I would not place so much em-phasis on the exit exams. A lot of people work hard, but because of the exit exams, they don’t get to graduate. So they’ve wasted four years of school for nothing. Sure, there’s a summer school program that you can go to but after failing the first time, it’s very discouraging.

Focus on Relevant MaterialAlan Bolanos, Pegasus High SchoolIf I ran the school, the way I would get students to get more excited about learning is to focus on the material that we all know we will need as soon as we are done with school, and stop making students learn stuff that isn’t as relevant. That type of education – the same kind they have been teaching for generations, even though times change -- hasn’t prepared us for the future. Come on now. Half the material they try to get us to learn is out dated, and chances are, we will never use it in life. They should be teaching us about material that will actually be vital for our future – informa- tion that will help us get jobs, or be prepared when we start our life after school. I think the dull and unused informa- tion we are

forced to learn should be discontinued and replaced with information that will help us be ready for the day after high school.

Give Us WindowsJean Pierre, Pegasus High SchoolIf I was in charge of my school, I would like to install some windows so that it doesn’t feel like we are in a prison cell during school.

Unity in StudentsDangmawit, Lincoln High SchoolIf I was the principal, the main thing I would do to make things better is to unite students. Being in San Jose, there are a lot of different types of people with different backgrounds, but we still have to understand each other. I would create more activities, like field trips for students, so we can have common experiences besides sitting next to each other in a classroom. The more we know about each other, the more the negative attitudes we have of each other won’t exist. Plus, we may find we have more in common than we think. A lot of students have really serious problems going on in their personal lives but they still come to school to make a better future – no matter what their background is.

With so many students talking about what should happen in schools with their current situ-ation, we asked students if they were given one chance to be the principal, what were some things that they would do and what they would change.

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Preppy Kids Get All the Attention. I Know... I Was OneJonathan, Carlmont High School

I live in East Palo Alto, and since we don’t have a high school in the area, I get bussed to Carlmont High School in Belmont. If I was principal, I would make sure the school understood that students should not be treated different because of assumptions about them because of what they wear. At my school, what is expected out of you is based on your walk, talk, look, dress, and the people you kick it with. My accidental experiment proved that. At the beginning of the year, I started off dressing “proper.” I didn’t wear baggy jeans, no long t-shirts, no messy hair. I would wear slim straight jeans, a small shirt and maybe a small sweater. My hair would always be combed. I had just gotten a new girlfriend and figured I had to look good for her. My mom was pretty happy with my style upgrade and told me, “You’re treated by how you look.” And even though I thought that was wrong, my mom was actually right. So I would try to dress good, have a smile on my face, a good attitude. I would come to campus walking straight. As soon as I entered the door for my first class, I was the first one and my teacher greeted me saying “Good morning” with a smile on her face as well. For a

couple weeks, I dressed like that, and I even had con-versations with my teachers of how my weekend went and how I was doing. It felt good to get that type of atten-tion from my teachers. I never had that relationship with teachers before. After a while, I realized I didn’t have to overdo it for my girlfriend and started to dress the way I normally did. I started wearing jeans and long tees, more saggy and my sweaters got bigger. I would still go to school and to all my classes doing my work with the same good attitude I had when I dressed preppy. But I started to notice though when I would go into my class, the same teachers who before would ask me about my life, would look at me and look away. There were no more “good mornings” and no more conversations. The attitude towards me changed. I felt as if they were just annoyed when I walked in. It was then when I started to disappear in school, to feel invisible. They didn’t really notice me anymore – I just blended back into being another Latino who sags. And from there, that caused me to slack off because nobody there saw me anymore. And even if they didn’t see me, I saw them. And it looked like they gave more attention to the students who dressed preppy.

Illo by Jesus Mejena

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I am a traitor to my own kind. I have abandoned the world of procrastinating college students by literally having the “tables

turn.” My once small student table has now turned into a large com-manding teacher’s desk. I am a fresh out of college first year high school teacher at Lincoln High School in West San Jose. The excitement of landing a job in this economy was present, but short-lived. The day I walked into my class-room and envisioned 36 teenagers in the then 36 empty desks, I was pretty much ready to jump out of the window (which wouldn’t have been very effective since my class is in the basement.). But I thought, “You know what? I can do this.” If a student acts up, I’ll pull a Michelle Pheiffer in Dangerous Minds, and if a student doesn’t want to cooperate, I’ll chan-nel my inner Edward James Olmos in Stand and Deliver. If Hollywood did it, why can’t I, right? Wrong. Truth is, I arrived the first day in a complete state of nervous-ness. The only thing I can compare it to is an audition. Except in this audi-tion, not only are you nervous of not acting the part, (with your profession-al get up, your commanding attitude and organizational skills) you also have to stand up there and entertain your judges, which in this case are 150 unruly high school youth. So, for this audition, I had to definitely get into character. (Did I mention that I am 5’0, am naturally passive, and was recently asked if I was 15-years-old?) I wore my most professional outfit, scripted my most profession-al speech and got the intimidating teacher stare down. Of course I also took the courses, passed the exams and taught a couple of classes on my

way but in the end, I don’t think any-thing can truly prepare you for your first day of your first year teaching. My classes taught me about theo-ries, methods, and educational phi-losophies but that could only help so much. I remember going to a high school graduation last year and having mixed emotions. Their success and excitement are definitely well de-served. Still, seeing them so excited at the prospect of having finished their education made me question as well. Is this it? Is education and suc-cess just passing high school? Has nobody ever shown you that your fu-ture can be limitless? Though it is difficult, schools should try to surround stu-dents with support and role models that expose students to opportuni-ties and skills that expand far beyond high school. You want to start a busi-ness? I’ll show you how. You want to go to college? I’ll help you. This is all possible because guess what? High school is not the end. You need to keep exploring and looking be-yond what immediately surrounds you. High school should be the be-ginning. I can go on about life after high school, but the truth is, many students don’t make it. Here is my stay in school speech: “You are here, you are young, you don’t have kids (usually) or a mortgage and guess what…it’s free. I guarantee that if you don’t do your work and graduate now, you will spend a couple years working and eventually, once you have kids and major bills, you will go back to high school. Except this time it wont be convenient, and guess what, it won’t be free. So, do it now or do it later,

your choice. Either way, it’s hard work, and it requires sacrifice, dedi-cation and support but that’s what I’m here for. So get to it.” And finally, to my overworked first year teacher brothers/sisters, I say this: you are definitely NOT alone. You are not the only ones with practi-cally no lives. You are not the only ones staying late in your dark little classroom, or arriving early to start it all over again. You are not the only one that gets asked, “Do you know how to jerk?!?!” on a daily basis. If you still do not understand my plead for solidarity, then at least take this advice: Make some friends (prefer-ably other first year teachers that feel your pain and joy.) They will keep you sane. Because in the end, no matter how many movies you watch, and how many philosophies you study, I guarantee you will also be standing in front 150 students, in awe.

by Illiana Perez

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I Count On MyselfLexie, Pegasus High School

The thing that all of my teachers never knew about me is that I don’t really have parents that I can rely on. They were both 15 when they found out they were going be parents and weren’t ready. So growing up, I realized I couldn’t depend on anybody but myself. My grandpar-ents raised me from being born to now, a 17-year-old se-nior. There is no point of putting all your faith in parents or teachers because at the end of day, I’m the only one that can push myself to do my homework and get things done. I’ve always motivated myself because I don’t want to end up like my parents having kids at a young age, because I know school is what is going to get me far in life. Dealing with all the issues outside of school, I’ve always had to ask teachers if I could turn things in late. Some say yes and some say no. I just got to move on and turn things in that I can. I think teachers can take a little time out if they notice something may be wrong with a kid. They have to look beyond the test score. All it takes is a, “Are things okay?” Just that phrase can go a long way. Plus, most of the things that keep students interested in school, or ways that help them deal with all the issues off campus, are being cut. These budget cuts are eliminating sports, clubs, and all kinds of things that help students. The activities are being replaced. Boys are going to get into gangs, girls are going to end up being teen moms. I just want kids my age who are in my situation to don’t ever doubt yourself. Just keep pushing forward and don’t let anyone tell you, you can’t do it.

All Students Have Potential Adriana, Lincoln High School

One thing some teachers are blind to when it comes to their students is that many kids have a lot of potential – the same ones that the teachers have already given up on. One of my teachers doesn’t pay any attention to the students in my class who don’t have the best grades. It feels like she doesn’t think they have any potential at all, and even if she doesn’t say it, the students all know what she is thinking. That’s rude because if she believes that now, they will start believing it too. But all students have the same potential, whether they are failing in class or not.

Learn About My HistoryJR, Sequoia Community Day School

During my sophomore year of high school, one of my teachers told me to stay after class to talk. As the bell rang, students ran out the door but I stayed seated. She came up to me and said that I needed to change or I would never amount to anything. She said I was just an-other Latino wrapped up in this gang life. The thing is, I’m not a gangbanger. She just assumed that because of how I comb my hair and how I dress. The sad thing is she wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. Those attitudes are reflected in what we are taught. In history class I never really learned about my own cul-ture. I would be into school if I was learning history about heroes from my culture such as Cesar Chavez, Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa. Why do I have to learn about

De-Bug did workshops all across the South Bay and Pen-insula, asking students what they wish their teachers and administrators knew about them. Turns out, it’s a lot. Below are some writings from students talking about the things they want their teachers and administrators to understand about their lives on and off campus.

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those people outside of school? I want to take the High School Proficiency Exam, and if I pass it, I will gradu-ate early and go on to Community College until I get 40 credits then on to a four-year university. I will show them not to judge a book by their cover. Stop Giving “The Look”Max, Pegasus High School

Every single teacher I’ve ever had has always had false assumptions about me and it’s definitely not appreciat-ed. I can’t even walk into a classroom without getting the “Look” that says, “Oh god, another slacker.” They always tell us not to judge, but maybe they should take their own advice for a change. Teachers aren’t exactly as perfect as adults might think.

Be Careful When Talking to StudentsJavier, Lincoln High School

One thing that teachers should know is that sometimes, some things that teachers say to me, hurt me. It hurts me deeper than they think. I might not show it by acting out in class again or by not listening, but it still hurts. Also, I am trying my hardest and paying attention most of the time, but it’s not my fault I have a hard time remember-ing the things we just went over because when they talk that way, usually my mind is still remembering what the teacher said about me.

From The Hood To The School HallwaysTeresa, San Jose Conservation Corps

I have been to 10 different high schools, and I can only p o i n t out one teacher who was a supporter/

mentor. I am a 17-year-old half Sa-moan and half Mexican with a

recently received high school diploma. I am an early grad-uate and a first generation graduate. When you look

at me you see tattoos, troublesome, a crimi-

nal, and to some, a menace.

When I was 12-years-old I got ar-rested,

which became the first time I was incarcerated, and the judge called me that -- a menace. At the age of 14, a teacher told me I should stay inside juvenile hall and save the world some trouble. Looking back, I always knew I was a smart kid with no guidance. I was just looking for a mentor because I felt I had none at home. It’s not the teacher’s job to be a parent, but when someone needs help, they need to tend to them right, as a human being. That hasn’t been my experience. I’ve had teachers tell me the only rea-son they want me in school was because the school got money for my attendance. I didn’t believe any teacher or administrator after that. How could I trust anyone in the school system after hearing that? It was that kind of stuff that makes me furious, but I don’t like people to see me hurt so I started doing my work out of anger. I start-ed teaching myself and grew hungrier for knowledge. Teachers to me are just there to make sure things are under control. Having been inside, they act very similarly to correctional officers. So I became my own teacher. I could hate the bad teachers and administrators I’ve had and bash them for not doing their jobs, but nah. I’d rather thank them for not believing just like the others because it pushed me to take it to the top. Whoever said streetwise couldn’t be booksmart was wrong. For every teacher who didn’t believe in me, I brought it, from the hood to the school halls.

Judge Me Not Angel, Menlo-Atherton High School

When I was at Menlo-Atherton, I started hanging out with the kids that were supposedly “gangsters.” I start-ed dressing like them with Dickies and black hoodies. I guess it was just to fit in, but I felt comfortable like that. I had guitar class with a teacher. When I missed class, he would say, “Hey, where were you? With your homies?” And one time, he asked me “what I banged.” I told him I didn’t bang. One time I found an Iphone and without thinking, I took it to him. He seemed really surprised and he gave me a cookie. But then one day, I forgot to return his guitar pick and he called me a thief in front of the whole class. I stopped going to his class after that and learned how to play guitar on my own. One time, I was watching my friend play drums in his class and he came up to me and pushed me in the chest and told me to get out of his class. It just always seemed like he judged me before he even got to know me. And that was who was going to give me my education?

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Betty, Pegasus High School

These are things about me that I don’t tell anyone. I’m writing this to tell the teachers a side they don’t really know about me and let other students know that school is very important no matter what you’re doing, what you want to do, or how you’re living. I work, I clean, I pay bills, I take care of babies, I cook. What don’ t I do? It’s not the 17-year-old life teachers might expect. I should have time to have fun too, but I don’t. Here’s my daily schedule:

4:50am -- Wake up at 4:50am (or at least I try) and get ready.

6:40am -- I leave my house and walk to Evergreen High. I get there around 6:55.

7:00am -- From there, I take the school bus to CCOC. I’m taking Forensic Investigation. I guess it’s pretty interest-ing. Thank God that my part of my day is full of nerds and no drama.

10:30am – Class ends, and I immediately take the bus as soon as CCOC class is over to Pegasus.

11:00am -- We arrive at Pegasus and class doesn’ t start until 11:35.

11:00am to 11:35am – My only free time since early morning, but what am I going to do, homework? I think not. That’s just going to keep stressing me.

11:35am to 3:20pm – In classes at Pegasus.

3:30pm – I’m on my way to work. I work at a car wash as a cashier, and THAT is big stress. When customers are not getting what they want or if I’m making a mistake on their sale, it causes a huge ruckus. That’s not even the only thing I have to deal with at work. My co-workers are a big stress too.

6:00pm -- Work ends, but I’m stuck there until 6:30 just doing all the paperwork and closing up. Then I wait for my ride, which I have to call in an hour ahead just so they can get there around 7pm.

7:30pm – Arrive home.

7:30pm – I cook food, since my family doesn’t always eat together, and if they do, I’m never there on time. After I eat then I shower and it’s around 9pm.

9:00pm -- Start doing homework. I usually put in around two hours.

11:30pm – Set the alarm for tomorrow morning and go to sleep.

The Continuation School Experience Marco, Redwood High School

Going to a continuation school is not always the best expe-rience, and at the ones I’ve gone to, the expectations are automatically lowered. At the one I go to now, I only have one classroom everyday. When entering, there is no for-mal greeting and no rules. Looking around my classroom, I see students talking with other students on their cell phone, making paper airplanes, really anything they want to do. The only real requirement seems to be that they show up. My teacher sees me and explains the packet to be done and graduation expectations, but she does not speak to me about what I am hoping she would – how to get into college. She is astonished to know that I am going to Redwood High

School to make up some low grades so that I can get into a four year university, and not there to just to finish credits. When I turn my work in, she only takes a glance at it and says “good job” without realizing that the writing assign-ment took me three days to complete, and yet she gives the student next to me the same grade even though he just told me that it only took him 30 minutes to finish. There are times now am wishing that I would have stayed in my regular high school, but the more I think about it, the more I’m glad I’m not there anymore. The thing that continuation school forces you to remember is that you are here for yourself. It’s not the teacher’s fault she has a cer-tain impression of me that I am not worthy of her time, or even eye contact when I talk to her. That says more about her and her future, than me and mine.

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I’ve always been interested in school. I like doing my work and asking questions whenever I had doubts about something. My teachers always gave me the attention I needed and answered all my questions. All

that changed for me when I started high school. I got my schedule and was excited to start because I got interest-ing classes. My enthusiasm started to slowly go down as I entered every room to find myself stuck between the wall and door! I could not believe it. How can there be so many students assigned to one class? The worst one was English fourth period.

I could barely breathe in a small damp room with 20 seats and kids crowded up all around the walls and back of the room. There were even kids behind the teachers desk. The teacher took roll. There were 37 students! They had to add almost 20 more desks. WOW. Anyways, somehow they managed to fit in all the extra desks.

Things just didn’t work out for me in that class. To make things worse, I got stuck with sitting next to the most annoying and disrupting kids in the class. The talk-

ing would not stop the whole period. Pens, pencils, and balls of paper would be flying back and forth across the room. I occasionally got literally knocked out of a moment of concentration. Paying full attention and even hearing the teacher was a mission. The day our class textbooks were handed out, I had to almost dive to get one. There was not enough, and not enough money to buy more for all the students who needed one. My grades went down that year. That made me so mad because I knew it was not my fault. I knew that if it wasn’t for the guy playing his Ipod full blast and for the girl talking to her boyfriend on the phone during class, I would have finished and passed that exam. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I decided to go talk to my teacher before class. To my damn freakin’ surprise, he didn’t know my name! When I asked if I could have a word with him, he said yes but, “What’s your name?” It was the end of a whole semester, and my own teacher did not know my name. I was shocked and at the same time angry. It was not fair. I took the time to do my work, turn in projects and do my best in class; time the majority of the class did not even bother thinking about, and my own teacher didn’t know my name still. I was one of the what, five students, that actually did something productively in class? After my intense conversation with my English teacher, he apologized for not remembering my name, and we had a pretty long conversation about class.

Apparently, he was also very much fed up with the oversized, loud, and disruptive class. He said he tried complaining to the principal about it, but nothing changed. At the end, after complaint after complaint from other stu-dents, letter after letter from parents, the school ended up making two English classes out of the massive fourth period class. I stayed with the same teacher. He learned my name (finally). Most important, my grade in that class went up. I got more attention from my teacher and I could give him mine. No more outburst and flying pencils. No more boyfriend conversations or loud Ipods.

Having a smaller class actually made a huge differ-ence for me and many other students. If schools have enough money, buy every teacher the newest laptop on the market (like they do at my school) and get all these fancy electronics for their office, I’m pretty sure they got enough money to buy some extra desks and have more classrooms for all the students. Don’t be lazy and greedy!

by Melissa, Lincoln High School

phot

o by

Tib

uron

I could barely breathe in a small damp room with 20 seats and kids

crowded up all around the walls and back of the room. There were even kids

behind the teacher’s desk.

Pg.9

T oday was my first day of school, kind of. It’s been so long since I’ve been a student that it all feels new to me.

The last time I was in school was my sopho-more year of high school. Back then, I wouldn’t go to class because I thought the teachers didn’t like me and I felt like they treated me different than other students. At the time, I was mostly hanging out with friends, cutting school, smoking, going downtown and getting myself into anything other than school. So arriving at the high school campus today for the first time in two years, I felt a little weird. Sit-ting in the classrooms, I could feel the gaze of all the other kids, looking at me funny. It felt like I didn’t belong.

One of my new teachers is cool. Her name is “Mrs. J.” I have a tattoo on my hand and she made me put a band-aid over it. Having her tell me I’d have to hide my tattoo was a low point of my day, but I also knew it was in my best interest.

During lunch, I worried that I wasn’t going to know any-one, or meet anyone new. I felt out of place at first, but then I saw one of my old friends from the sixth grade, and that put me at ease. I also saw one of my ex-girlfriends from 8th grade. Our relationship was fine, but she acted like a little kid, so I broke up with her. I guess I broke her heart and her dad didn’t like that one bit. I’m not sure if he still wants to beat me up, but seeing her again made me think about relationships. Sometimes I think that hav-ing a girlfriend - a square, “go to every class”, nerdy type girlfriend - might push me to do well in school and help me get to class on time.

Thinking even further back to when I was in kindergar-ten, I’m reminded of my mom. I never wanted to be any-where but around her. In fact, I loved my mom too much to be in school. I thought she could and would do anything in the world for me. Later on, when I was growing up and get-ting into trouble, she would come to my school and fight for me every time. Sometimes, I would get myself into trouble just to see her.

But a few years ago, my mom passed away. And when she did, there was no longer anyone there to fight for me like she had. Other than the teachers who made me feel uncomfortable, my mom’s passing was a huge reason why I dropped out. On some days I would just stay at my house, so that I wouldn’t have to hear or see my teachers.

At home, I could avoid them completely and just hang out, alone.

While other kids might have reacted differently to their mom passing away, all I really wanted to do was run away from things and never return. Eventually though, I arrived at this question: What will that solve? In retrospect, I think that I handled the situation more maturely than other kids, and a lot of that is due to having community support. It was after talking to a bunch of my friends that I decided to re-enroll in school, two long years after I had dropped out.

Now that I’m back in the classroom and have some support, I think about my future more than ever. I want to open my own business - maybe a restaurant - because my mother loved to cook and it’s something she taught me. I’d like to name the restaurant “Mays” after her. My public high school might not teach culinary arts but I know that with support, I can continue to go to school and be the person my mom would have wanted me to be.

For those that know me, they also must know that I hated school for the longest time, so going back to class now is a big deal. I’d like to thank my friend Daniel for help-ing me make a fresh start at school and in life. I know my mom would be very happy for me because I’ve changed. I know that if she were here she would say, “Thank you for helping my son. I’m glad my son found a place where he can go and feel good about himself.”

by Jacob, Leland High School

photo by G$

Pg.10

Evelyn, Overfelt High School

I had no idea that out of all the people in my school, only 25% will graduate ready for college. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been on track to go to college. At the beginning

of my freshman year at Overfelt High School, I got to see why that number makes sense. In classes that I shared with students who weren’t doing as well as me, I heard stories from them about just wanting to give up school because they felt like their education had been messed up. They hadn’t been told from the beginning that high school graduation requirements weren’t the same as the requirements needed to go to college. So now, in their ju-nior or sophomore year, they were struggling to make up classes that they should have taken earlier. These college requirements are called the A-G requirements, which are barely being implemented in our schools. To really fix this problem, students should be told from the beginning what classes they should take to get into college. Not only that, there should be more counselors to help us students pick our classes – going to college shouldn’t just be for the few who happen to sit down with counselors. My cousin, who graduated before me from Overfelt High School, did not take the classes she needed to get into college. Since no one really talked to her about col-lege, she wasn’t that motivated anyway to get into college. She graduated late and is now working a low paying job to support her family. I know she had the potential to go to straight to college from high school and become something

great. But because she didn’t receive encouragement from teachers and her friends didn’t care much about school ei-ther (since not much was expected from them,) she wasn’t able to do so well in school. She can still do great things like pursue college, but someone should have told her about that in high school.

Dina, Independence High School

To know that the class-mates I work and mingle with may never achieve their goals because of lack of resources or support is depressing and infuriating; we are being robbed of our rightful resources and then told that we simply did not work hard enough. The fault is in this system. It belongs neither to the teachers or stu-dents but mainly to the fact there is simply no money in our schools. There is not enough to fund paychecks, sup-plies, programs, etc, and this is what hurts us the most. The students who are less privileged are discouraged, thus making it significantly harder for them to succeed. Teachers are bombarded with classes that mirror canned sardines and little time to deal with each student effectively. I worry for my friends because I am aware of an inevitability that weighs them down from “reaching for the stars”, as they tell us to do in class. I’d rather ignore the negativity, but I know that a majority of my friends and classmates will end up with less-than-mediocre jobs and lives merely because they received a less-than-mediocre education. It is unfair and terrible, but with our financial state, it is what it is -- a horrible inevitability.

Editor’s Note: We showed students actual statistics of their high school ranging from truancy rates, low/high percentages of test scores, test scores for English learners, percentages of college ready students,and many more. We asked students to choose a statistic that they felt affected them personally and to write about the story under the numbers.

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Cynthia, James Lick High School

I am a student at James Lick High School. I’m learn-ing English as my second

language. It’s great studying in English Language De-velopment (ELD) classes. Learning English is something that will help make my dream a reality. I want to go to college. I want to know English when I go. But right now, at the rate I’m being pushed, I feel like that dream will be on hold. I need more challenging classes than the ones I’m currently placed in. I feel like I’m disabled from learn-ing English. Spanish speaking students are always try-ing to do something better so we can better our present situation. As much as I like ELD classes, I would much rather spend my time in the more advanced classes like ELD 2. Because of my test scores in ELD 1, my counselor moved me to ELD 2. It felt like the right class. It chal-lenged me and I was growing as a English language learner. But as soon as I didn’t make high scores in ELD 2 exams, my counselor then moved me right back to ELD 1 with no warning. No one ever came to me and asked me if it was okay to send me back to ELD 1. They just did. When I was in ELD 2, I felt like I was in the right class, like it was the perfect amount of challenge I needed to grow. But because I’m bad at testing, I’m back to a class that I feel keeps me at the same level of learn-ing that I’ve surpassed already. I feel that the school shouldn’t rate students just on their test scores, but that they should look at all aspects of the student’s school performance. Teachers should do everything they can in order to get students ready for college, and that includes challenging them. Many students want to go to college and they want to be pre-pared, even if it means challenging classes. But, it will be very hard if we don’t get the classes that challenge our minds. I have so much pressure with the classes them-selves that I don’t want to spend my time worrying about administration issues. I just want to study. I came from Mexico to study and want to be the first in my family to go to college and graduate from high school. I want to better my future and make my family proud since my parents did not get to graduate from high school, let alone go to college. I want them to be proud of me, to know that I overcame the challenges that were set forth for me, but it will be hard if I’m not even given the chance to accept those challenges.

Victoria, Andrew Hill High School

As we grow in life, we overcome much pain and struggle. Being the oldest of three, I had to fend for myself and my siblings against the struggles and my parents. It wasn’t the struggle where we would be beaten, but the mental-ity of being trapped where we were. I had to protect their young innocence from all the pain and struggle that lived in our home. Everyday was the same. My family owned busi-nesses and we, as the next generation, were expected to help and be present. The only ways to help my siblings were to be their replacement at work, be their home mother, and their guidance. I could start the day with clean clothes, smelling fresh and tired from the last day. Once it was time to go home, my jeans were dirty from kneeling to clean and reach, with a stench of sweat from the tedious work, and my energy had been reduced to a total low. But work wasn’t over. Once I was home I began a new shift. There were sib-lings to tend to, a house to clean, and food to cook. My father was an alcoholic. He drank it like water. He would drink, not eat, and just fall asleep on the floor. My mother, on the other hand, whom I just left at work, would then come home. It was a stream of endless tears from her eyes. The screaming, the shouting, and the fly-ing objects were heartbreaking. They would argue and fight and the next moment they would be the perfect cou-ple. My siblings were too young to know what was going on but for me it was just a neverending emotional ride. In front of others nothing was wrong. But behind closed doors, it was a nightmare that kept replaying itself. I was alone. I was suffering and tired. Once school had start-ed, it was my escape. All of my energy had been drained from working my job and life. In school I wouldn’t stay awake. Not a single teacher asked me if anything was wrong. They assumed that because I had clean clothes and all my school supplies that nothing was wrong. All I needed was a companion, someone to talk to. My loving friends were my helping hand. They knew what I was going through and were my shoulders to cry on. School was the only time I would be left alone. School was my escape. But I would be physically and emotionally tired at

Pg.12

school. I would think to myself, why am I here? I would be falling asleep in class, and thinking I could just leave to go relax. I thought no one cared, so I would just leave campus. Year after year, not a single teacher even reached out to me. I have now turned my life around. I am now a Youth Power Leader at Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence to make a change. I am going to be the helping hand in school, at home, and in my com-munity. I am going to be the change.

Angelique, Yerba Buena High School

I can go back, way back to the age where my dad was gone. I can say his absence played a part in my future, but that wasn’t

the case. The moment that defined the girl I would grow up to become was the absence of a real teacher. I was ten years old. In fifth grade, my teacher told two of my classmates and I to stand up in front of the class. She then said, “You are the kind of girls that will be pregnant at the age of 16.” Those were her words to the three of us. I’ve been fighting that statement ever since. I tried to let it go in one ear and out the other, but on its way out the words worked their way down to the back of my mind. I completely forgot about them until my sophomore year in high school. After one of my classes, I went to my biology teacher’s classroom because she marked me absent. The first sentence out of her mouth was, “What’s going on with you? Are you pregnant?” I thought to my-self, “Because I went into class late, I’m pregnant?” So now there were two teachers assuming that they knew me and my life. I am not a stereotype. I don’t care what the numbers say about Latinos; I am not going to be a teen mom. I’m not going to be one of those Latinos that drop out of high school. I will absolutely not be just a number or a percentage. At the end of my junior year, I had an opportunity to read a let-ter that was for teachers. In the letter it basically blames Latinos/Mexicans/Hispanics for the schools low test scores. It stated that because of us, my school will be one of the failing schools. It was our fault. So we must be to blame for losing counselors, correct? Or getting a shorter school year, losing curriculum, or even the threat of losing our sports program? Tell me how I can achieve more, if you’re only giving me less. Do not blame us for the things you took away from us. You may give us only

scraps to work with, but I will know what success tastes like.

Daniel, Foothill High School

High school’s difficult. I could never conform to any “sys-tem” which got me into a lot of trouble. I’m on my fifth high school. Silver Creek, Mount Pleasant, James Lick, C.C.O.C, and Foothill -- high schools that have given me a wide-eyed experience from the trouble at each one. But trouble started before high school. I felt that I was pretty much criminalized from the start. Getting in trou-ble in middle school for selling weed was the end of the world for me. In reality, it was the start of probation as a criminal. That reality followed me into high school. Freshman year, I joined the football team. Football always motivated me to do good in school, but like most, I got caught up with the hype of making money. My mom was going to college to be a nurse. She wasn’t home as much as I wanted her to be, but it was for the good of our future. So I had a lot of time on my hands, but with that came a lot of negative attention. I glorified it. Any attention/recognition was better than none. The money really helped too, but as the saying goes, “You play with fire, you get burned.” And I did, got caught yet again. The next high school was a failure due to my actions and so it went quickly, and I moved to the next school. My reputation followed me there. I was under a magnifying glass, always being watched and not just in school. Mount Pleasant didn’t work out because of my past confrontations to simplify things. So I was off to the next one. I went to C.C.O.C, an occupational trade school. I went there for animation and took regular classes there as well. From the start, the principals and the dean looked at the negative things in my history and never took any time to break their stereotype of what they thought of me. It’s hard to look at myself and break a stereotype when others aren’t doing it as well. They didn’t want me there from the start so they found any reason to get me out. My animation teacher was upset because he got to know who I was and he tried to fight for me. But he lost, so I lost too. Once again, it was on to the next one and that was James Lick High. With all that experience of attending high school after high school, I knew things had to change. I had to befriend the principals and teachers of the school. I literally walked into the principal’s office, shook his hand,

Pg.13

sat down and talked. I made an effort to show him who I was before he read that transcript. I won the trust of my teachers and principals. They didn’t really care who I was before, and if it wasn’t for me, I knew they wouldn’t have tried. But because I got in trouble before and went to so many schools, I was still short on credits and had to move to another high school that would allow me to make them up. “On to the next high school” was a common saying for me. I went to the school and it looked like a little jail. The uniform was black and white, everyone is on pro-bation or pregnant or has kids. I felt this place wasn’t for me. I had only four teachers, a principal, and one counselor for the whole school. But I found that Foothill High was structured in a more personal way than all the other schools I had gone to. The teachers got to know me personally, and we formed healthy relationships. This is what I always needed. I wish I would have found this school before. Their system worked for me. They didn’t focus on my past but focused on improving my future. I feel different systems work for different people because we are not at all the same. We are individuals who have different learning styles, and it has taken me five schools to figure out my own.

Anonymous

I never thought the day would come that I’d have to defend myself in school. I never had to fight in elementary nor junior high school. I always had an excel-lent reputation of get-

ting along with others. Here I am now in high school having fun with my friends, meeting new friends, and learning new things. Then it happened, and school will never be the same. I got suspended just for defending myself from an-other student who I have had an ongoing problem with since the beginning of the school year. I was getting bullied, and even told the advisors and principal, but their advice didn’t help. The advice that I received was

to stay away from her and ignore her. I was already staying away and trying to ignore her. But how can I stay away and ignore a person that purposely bumps me everyday? I couldn’t because she constantly did it. She would run and tell others that she wanted to fight me, and that she was going to kick my butt. One day she even put hands on me, and I was the person who ended up getting in trouble. I was given a five-day suspension without ever being able to tell my side of the story. And the other girl did not get in trouble for attack-ing me. They even charged me with a crime, and I have had to meet with probation officers, lawyers, and I don’t know how this is going to impact my future. I don’t get much sleep at night, and I’m stressed out now. It’s hard to balance school and this drama. I am an A/ B student and my grades dropped a lot after being suspended. The school says there is a zero tolerance for bul-lying, harassing, and fighting, and that if this happens, the student(s) will be punished. But it seems that their policy only applies to students they don’t like. I was get-ting picked on, yet I may now have a criminal record, and I still have to go to the school that put me through all this. But no, I don’t go around being mad at the world. I cover my emotions with a smile even though I’m hurt-ing. If they want students to believe in rules and treat each other fairly, then they should do so themselves. I am going to overpower and conquer it.

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Pg.15

comic by Anthony Clark

It’s fourth period; it’s a slightly small classroom. His-tory is the subject that the students filling the seats are supposed to be focusing on, but instead people gossip over who they think passed “the test.” All this

as the teacher sits at her desk on her computer. We wait for her to make her move, to do something while she sits there. My friend Lisa and I are waiting for her to open her mouth. She’s our teacher, our instructor. We wait for instructions. The teacher calls out, “Class! The exit exam test scores are in. I’m gonna tell ev-eryone their results.” Vanessa, you got this,” Lisa says to me. “I don’t know; we’ll see what happens. What about you?” Lisa tells me, “I don’t re-ally care. I just wish they would hurry up and tell us al-ready.” The classroom was still in gossip mode even as the teacher made the announcement. It wasn’t until her loud “shut up!” that made the class go quiet. She says, “I’m going to be calling your names one by one and telling everyone their scores.” She calls the first row of names. “Okay Lisa, you passed. Jordan, you passed.” I start to get nervous wait-ing for my name. Everything is pretty much slow motion as she scrolls down and looks straight at me. “Vanessa, you did not pass. Better luck next year. You’ll probably get it as a junior.” Lisa hadn’t been to school for months so I asked the teacher, “Why did Lisa pass and I didn’t? I come to school everyday, on time, ready to work and Lisa hasn’t been here for months.” The teacher responded, “Vanessa, there’s one thing that you have to understand. Lisa has a good reading level and anyone with a basic reading level can pass the exit exam.” She said that with a little smirk on her face. I felt like, in one way or another, she just called me dumb in between the lines. I sat there, angry, not reply-ing to what she had said. I just interpretted her words, tone, and body language. Basically, it felt like she was just telling me high school doesn’t mean anything if you can pass the exit exam. So, what’s the point of an educational experience, if everything is boiled down to just a one hour test? Plus, sometimes people cheat during that hour -- yet they are deemd able by schools standards. School isn’t

about learning skills, expanding your mind, thinking criti-cally; it’s just about this one test. The exit exam is telling students the rest of the days and periods we’ve worked hard on are irrelevant. And having school only be about that one test also affects the teachers too. In class, I can see how they get less motivated too since everything is about the exit exam. They came to help students prepare for the future, but instead their entire classes are just for

one test. So when I graduate and pick up that diploma, I will know what it really means. It’s not about my ability to learn and be a contributor to society. It just means my enitre school career was for one test that has noth-ing to do with my future hopes and goals.

The exit exam is telling students the rest of the days and periods we’ve worked hard on are irrele-vant. And having school only be about that one test also affects

the teachers too.

Vannessa, Lincoln High School

Pg.17

phot

o by

Tib

uron

At the age of innocence I would believe I was Galileo,And would let my imagination run wild with gallons of legos,Before the government comes and teaches you not what you want,Had to share my thoughts, my native tongue was lost,Later found out teachers and yard duty was the same as cops,And principals are judges judging your principles,With discipline actions which I’m glad were not physical,Kinder to the end of 5th grade elementary school,Private to public became a different fool,At the time the curriculum was impressive for a second,But once summer came around, I’d do my best to forget the lessons,That was taught for that year and it’s clear,Cause it’s summertime, and I’ll catch you next year

I liked English and Biology but hated their sister Math,‘Cause she always had me solve her problems in and out of class,I hated her the most ‘cause I already had my own problems,So I told her holler at Psychology cause he’ll solve ‘em,Usually I was bored with what the teacher taught,Would read the book in class, five minutes later forgot,Just because you read a textbook don’t mean you gonna learn,I told the teachers, but detentions what I got in return,So I became a loud mouth criticizing the teacher,Plus I didn’t understand what was going on either,Plus the cops pulling me over labeling me as a bad seed,I also learned that the curb and cuffs is a bad seat,And weed and cholos and bad dreams and that drink,Plus the way I dress changed when I didn’t have a thing,I was witty and cunning, writing stories for days,Teachers still called my parents and gave me F’s all day

And yet my mind’s overloading with poetic emotion,That I’ve constructed my brain into a musical modem,With creative classes canceled and hip hop poetry ain’t taught,“That’s not real music” then how come it’s sought?It helped me more than school did,I learned the streets better and helped me get the anger out when my parents divorced,And made me feel comfortable around many people,Cause how come you gotta pay for your educational meals,I couldn’t afford it so I stole it and some,Now I look back seeing how my innocence was done,And for your information...I was not dumb.

By Ookie

Pg.18

I spent four years trying to get to this place (America) from my motherland in Honduras. In Honduras, we were starving poor, life was hard. My mother sold empanadas and pupusas feeding people on the

streets though she barely made enough to feed her own kids. It’s common to see children as young as seven, out of school and working for their families. I only made it to third grade before I realized my family wasn’t going to make it without me working too. I started as a shoe shine boy but I wanted to do more. I had dreams of the U.S. and after four years attempting to get here by train, I finally made it here at 17. But it wasn’t as I thought it would be. The sole of my shoe is completely gone. It feels as if I’m faking a shoe. When it rains, my feet get wet and walking to school gets painful. I came here to work, make money, and support my family back in Honduras. My image of the U.S. was dollar signs, but I was put in school instead. My first day of high school in the United States seemed normal to me. The teachers welcomed me in but after that no one paid attention to me. Because I grew up poor, figuring my finances all day in my head made Algebra my favorite subject. I didn’t understand English that well but I liked learning it. While learning English, Algebra remained the only language I could un-derstand in school. I live in a group home which is a huge stress factor on my mind and interrupts my thoughts while trying to focus at school. It’s hard living with strangers who don’t know where I am coming from as a young Honduran. One time, I did my homework and one of my housemates tore it. I told the people working in the group home, but they didn’t seem to care. I didn’t bother telling the teach-er because I knew it would be the same response. The teachers are aware of my living situation but no one cares. Having to worry about my stuff getting stolen is constantly in my mind while at school because I’ve had my things stolen before. If I were in charge of the school, I’d have the teach-ers get to know the students so that they would get to know what situation they are in. Teachers have to under-stand that it’s hard to pay attention in class when your last meal was the day before and your stomach doesn’t stop growling. They have to understand our struggles

that we have deal with, our past that can get in the way of our doing school. All my belongings could be gone by the time I get home, leaving me with just what’s on me and in my backpack. This may be a huge dream of mine, but I think I would staff schools with undocumented people who ac-tually relate and can communicate with students like me. That way, I can feel like a teacher can sympathize with what I went through to get here. There are no words I can tell you how it was to finally get to this place, only to be still at the bottom. But I also realize I can work my way up. I have a family depending on me for their survival in Honduras. And if education in America can be a stepping stool to that goal, then I will walk to school in my worn-out shoes, taunted by teachers who don’t understand my life or speak Spanish, get my things stolen at my group home just to make it here. It’s been a huge struggle just to get here, and there is no turning back for me.

by Kevin Casasola as told to Tiburon

In Honduras we were starv-ing poor; life was hard.

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When asked to do a mural on my school experience, I decided to make one that said, “Go Smart.” I grew up in the hyphy movement, when everyone wanted to “go dumb”. So since I’m from the Bay, I wanted to speak from my roots. I do art because I want to be seen. At school, I wasn’t always seen, and so I’ve had ups and downs in the classroom. I’ve been to

traditional schools and continuation schools. To me, it felt like at the continuation school, teachers care about you more. I’ve been called lazy at the traditional school, or told I “just don’t want to be there” when I wasn’t doing well. At my new school at Pegasus, if you don’t do your work, the teachers will check in with you and ask if there is anything going on in your life that they can help with. You get more personal attention at these type of schools. It is that sort of help for students that can help school go smart. – Ivan, Pegasus

“When the school talks about issues like drugs and gangs, they need to make information less corny.” Albert, Hoover Middle School “The seniors who are struggling during their senior year to make up credits should give presentations to the freshmen to let them know the less they do now, the more they will have to do later.” Mauricio, Foot-hill High School “Students need to have more options for electives and extracurricular activities. Funding drives need to in-volve the entire school for all students to get involved, and something all students can benefit from.”Marlen, Downtown College Preparatory “They should have people go and sit in on the class-rooms when the teachers don’t know they are coming and evaluate their teaching.” Eddy, Foothill “Go smart by getting more clubs constructed by the students. The clubs provide free time and gives

space to express ourselves to release the stress from school. You’ll be surprised how amazing it is to see how creative one mind can be.” Erron, Yerba Buena High School “I think my school can go smart by adding extra math and English classes for people who need it the most. If we need classes, the school should be providing them if they want us to succeed.” Sarina, Pioneer High School “My school can go smart by doing things that helps the environment like recycling and using solar ener-gy.” Dominik, Lincoln High School “For my school to go smart, it needs to make more of an effort to help those most struggling in classes by giving added classes for students who might be on the verge of dropping out. Better to invest in them so they can pass, rather than letting them fail.” Andrew, Lincoln High School

Watch the video: vimeo.com/29003962

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“How can your school Go Smart?”