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Creating
Believers

Weaving together English, Spanish, and Russian, an Oregon school district aims at biliteracy for all students.

Story by Rhonda Barton
Photos by Craig Volpe

Woodburn, Oregon—A bright blue band circles Walt Blomberg’s wrist. Etched in the hard plastic is one word—BELIEVE—in English, Spanish, and Russian. To Superintendent Blomberg, it represents both a promise and a challenge: to ensure that every child graduates from Woodburn schools literate in English and one other language.

Blomberg ordered 1,000 of the bracelets for teachers, administrators, students, and parents in December after conducting a staff survey that asked, “Do you believe our kids can be successful?” Blomberg admits, “I was disappointed with the results, and I challenged the staff to explore what came out of the survey and how we could change that. When I gave these [bracelets] out, I said, ‘This is about believing in our students and in each other. If we believe, we can succeed.’”

Signs of success are already abundant in the 4,700-student district, which is 73 percent Hispanic, 11 percent Russian, and 16 percent Anglo American. All but one of the district’s seven schools ranked satisfactory or strong in academic performance on the Oregon report card; one elementary school recently won a coveted state award for closing the achievement gap; the district has been a leader in attracting and retaining bilingual and bicultural staff; and a “grow your own” program is helping both teachers and educational aides ramp up their skills and credentials.

Still, the high-poverty district faces its share of problems: a middle school that is scrambling to dig out of Year 5 of AYP sanctions; a high school striving to improve its graduation rate by breaking into four smaller academies; and a community where immigrant cultures are stratified into even finer layers based on religion, urban versus rural roots, and length of time in the United States.

Coming Together

Located 35 miles south of Portland, Woodburn is a study in contrasts. In the largely Hispanic commercial district, bustling tacquerías feature tripe, beef brains, and pork rinds with hot sauce. Newly arrived workers from Oaxaca and Guadalajara toil in the surrounding nurseries and food processing plants. On the edge of the fields, one of Oregon’s largest outlet malls offers pricey Ralph Lauren and Brooks Brothers labels in tastefully appointed shops. Across the freeway, a prosperous retirement community hugs the golf course. Russian Old Believers and Pentecostals till nearby farms, quietly keeping to themselves and adhering to centuries-old religious traditions.

The Chamber of Commerce promotes Woodburn as “The City of Unity.” But unifying the diverse groups and making certain that all are well-served by the school system is a complex juggling act—particularly as two-thirds of the students are English language learners. Meeting the community’s needs has required innovation, perseverance, and even a certain amount of proselytizing. “As many people who want access to foreign languages, there are others who say ‘if you come to America, you should speak English,’” observes Blomberg. “I try to personalize the issue, and ask them if you could still speak the language of your grandparents, wouldn’t you make that choice? I’ve never had anyone say no. After all, why eliminate one language when you can have two?”

An Impetus for Change

Woodburn’s trajectory toward a bilingual system began nearly 10 years ago when Walt Blomberg’s predecessor gathered a strategic planning team of almost three dozen parents, staff, students, and community leaders. Sherrilynn Rawson, now principal of Nellie Muir Elementary, was one of the team members. She remembers “the real impetus for change” when she arrived at the district in the mid-1990s: “We recognized that the early successes we were having in elementary school weren’t translating to the middle and high schools, and if students even made it to high school, they were dropping out before graduation.”

The planning team delved into research and groups of parents and teachers fanned out, visiting schools in New Mexico, Texas, California, and Washington. “Rather than looking for a particular label or program, we were looking for those practices that seemed to be common to all schools that were effective in teaching English language learners,” says Rawson. The research and site visits were boiled down to lists of characteristics of successful programs, staffing, and instruction.

That formed the genesis of Woodburn’s English Transition Program, which offered five different models of teaching Spanish- and Russian-speaking students. The models ranged from English-only instruction to dual-language, sheltered English, and both early-exit and late-exit options combining native language and sheltered English. The program helped students make the transition to English during a five-year period.

“We’ve continued to evolve in our thinking,” notes Rawson, “moving away from using native language instruction as an implicit way to get at English to having native language instruction explicitly as another goal.” And district leaders went one step further: They reasoned that if children in the transition program actually came out bilingual, why not extend that opportunity to every student?

Welcome to Woodburn

All newcomers to the district—whether they speak English or another language at home—begin their academic journey at the Welcome Center, a homey beige building with flower boxes and bright red shutters. Students and their adults are greeted by bilingual Russian and Spanish staff members who record all the important family information. English language learners are quickly assessed using the Woodcock-Muñoz Language Survey or its Russian counterpart. To help students feel comfortable, the tests take place just off the main waiting area, in a room with a large interior window so children can maintain visual contact with their family.

“We explain to the parents what we offer,” says David Bautista, director of bilingual education and a native of Guadalajara. “If you want your children to become bilingual, this is what we have. If you want a traditional English-only program, we have that, too.” Most pick the bilingual option.

It’s Bautista’s responsibility to make sure that each school has the tools to fulfill that agenda. He works with principals on professional development plans, locates resources, and manages the bilingual coordinators assigned to each building. Although it’s not part of his official job description, Bautista also leads annual trips to Mexico where Woodburn staff members—including Superintendent Blomberg—get a glimpse of their students’ roots. Once the Woodburn faculty compares its resources with those of Mexican teachers, “the whining usually stops,” Bautista confides with a sly smile. On a more serious note, he adds that the experience can be transformational.

Back in Oregon, Bautista urges his colleagues to recognize that “a bilingual program is everybody’s work. You see examples of schools that are successful because of the teachers, or principal, or coordinators. But when you want a whole system that works, it takes all of the pieces together.”

A Shining Example

One of the brightest stars in Woodburn’s firmament is Nellie Muir Elementary, which pioneered the district’s Spanish-English dual- immersion program. The program draws kindergartners who are English dominant, bilingual in English and Spanish, or Spanish dominant. Beginning in kindergarten and first grade, 80 percent of the instructional day is conducted in Spanish and 20 percent in English. Each year, the mix changes until instruction is evenly split between the two languages in fifth grade.

About a third of the school’s current K–2 students are enrolled in the two-way immersion program. Another third follow a developmental bilingual program that works much the same as dual immersion but all students are from Spanish-speaking families. A third option is called “English-plus”: Here students receive instruction in English with 30–40 minutes of Spanish three or four times a week. In grades 3–5, approximately two-thirds of today’s students are developmental bilingual and one-third are in the English-plus program, though dual-immersion enrollment is expected to grow in the next few years as the current K–2 students move up.

There’s no question that the program is getting results. In March, Nellie Muir was recognized by the Oregon Department of Education as the state’s top school for closing the achievement gap. The state based the award on a comparison of individual students’ reading and math RIT scores in 2003 and 2005. Nellie Muir’s fifth-graders showed improvement from their third-grade test results in a number of categories: Economically disadvantaged students grew an average of more than 16 points in math and 17 points in reading. Latino students were up an average of more than 17 points in math and 18 points in reading. And English learners gained more than 18 points in math and 19 points in reading. “These kinds of gains are well above the state average gains for grades 3–5 (about 12 points),” notes Principal Rawson, “meaning that these students are catching up in terms of overall state achievement.”

Ask anyone at Nellie Muir what makes the school work so well and they’re bound to credit the collegiality and distributed leadership. Rawson agrees. “Every teacher here has the responsibility to be the resident expert in something,” she says. “On our kindergarten team, one person is the math expert, one’s literacy, and one is ESL. I know that if I’m the designated math person, I need to meet with the math experts in the other grades to make sure our programs vertically align. Because I focus on one area and trusted colleagues take care of others, it makes the work load manageable.” Rawson pays for substitutes during a half-day each month to provide time for team meetings and professional development. Teachers also have common time each week since special classes—like library and music—are scheduled during the same period for all students in the same grade.

Three-fourths of Nellie Muir’s faculty is bilingual or bicultural, along with a similar number of classified employees. “Every link in the chain is strong,” says Rawson, “including the cafeteria and janitorial staff. We all expect the best from the kids and create a culture of that.”

More Than Classmates

Just down the hall from Rawson’s office, there’s the hum of two dozen first-graders simultaneously reading in Spanish in Ronda Johnson’s dual-immersion classroom. In one corner, TJ and Ashley share a work table with Dulce and Cesar. Dulce points to each word as she mouths a poem, “Me Gusta Comer” (“I Like To Eat”). Ashley is reading a book in Spanish and English on veterinarians, while TJ attacks a counting book illustrated with “mariquitas” or mosquitoes. Cesar studies a notebook with photos of all of his classmates and their favorite things. He learns that TJ is “talentoso” (talented) and likes “las tortugas” (turtles). Taking a break from their books, TJ and Cesar head for the carpeted area to play a math game with pastel-colored, plastic eggs.

Johnson recalls that TJ, one of nine siblings, barely spoke a word of Spanish when he entered first grade—even though he was in the immersion program in kindergarten.

“He was in a silent period, but within a month of being in the classroom, it all clicked in. Now, he’s on grade level in both Spanish and English,” she reports. “With Ashley too—they make that jump all of a sudden and it becomes so natural now for them to be reading and writing in Spanish.”

In addition to the flowering of language ability, Johnson observes something else emerging in her students. “Friendship between the cultures is one thing I see now. It’s exciting to see blonde/blue-eyed children speaking Spanish and also to see more English growth in my Spanish kids. That surprised me because we don’t use any more English than in the bilingual classes, but the friendships have fostered that.”

Spreading the Word

Laurie Hoefer, the mother of a first-grader at Washington Elementary, is sold on the dual-immersion program—not only for its academic benefits, but for the social and cultural benefits. “Having the ability to read and write Spanish well will be a real asset in Gracie’s future,” she believes.

On a rainy winter evening, Hoefer is sharing her daughter’s experiences at a parent meeting at Heritage Elementary. The school, which currently has 12 mainstream English classrooms and a half-dozen Russian ones, will add Spanish dual immersion in fall 2006. It is the last of Woodburn’s grade schools to adopt the program.

About three dozen Hispanic parents, some still in work uniforms for local landscaping firms, have shown up for pizza and testimonials on the program. The school is looking to recruit up to 50 kindergarten and first-grade students, and they’ve organized the meeting to answer parents’ questions. Both Superintendent Blomberg and Bilingual Director Bautista are on hand to show the district’s support.

To demonstrate how the program melds language and cultural elements, half the parents are given pictures of Mexican families engaging in different traditions. The other half receive printed stories about these rituals. Everyone circulates around the room, matching the illustrations with the appropriate stories. Then, each table reads the stories and looks for the characters and specific customs that are described.

The lesson underscores that while developing vocabulary, students also learn to value Hispanic culture—whether it is their home culture or that of their classmates. Señor Lopez, whose daughter is in the program at Washington, thinks this is one of the strongest reasons for parents like him to enroll their children in dual immersion. He explains in Spanish, “If we don’t maintain our first language, we get ‘Spanglish,’ and we lose our culture to ‘Americanismo.’ My daughter now comes home singing [traditional] songs and asking me questions about my experiences as a child. She’s excited and gaining self-esteem.”

Another Hispanic parent adds—through an interpreter—that even though 80 percent of the instruction is in Spanish, her kindergarten student is “learning a lot of English fast. She’s even able to translate for me at the store.” David Bautista reassures the parents that their children’s skills in Spanish and English will continue to grow as they advance in the system. “Woodburn is bilingual K–12,” he tells them. “We’re one of the few districts that can say that because other districts just have bilingual support in elementary school.”

Meeting Individual Needs

Indeed, at Valor—the middle school adjacent to Heritage Elementary—the district’s commitment to serving three language groups is immediately evident. Signs and student work in Russian, English, and Spanish brighten the corridors, reinforcing the district’s slogan: “Diverse in culture, united in mission.” Newcomers with limited English build literacy skills and content knowledge in their native language, as well as English, while proficient students can choose from a variety of electives in English, Spanish, and Russian.

In a conference room off the school’s library, named for Cesar Chavez, three science teachers and a bilingual language arts instructor collaborate on designing a biology lesson targeting all students’ needs. Guided by consultant Jody Wiencek, they work on incorporating state language objectives—like making predictions and describing things—into a class on genetics and heredity. The group agrees on the lesson’s content goal—“understand the transmission of traits in living things”—and discusses how students might relate to the word “transmission.” The goal will be posted prominently in the classroom, along with separate language and social goals.

Marcia Wood, who will teach the lesson while her colleagues and principal observe, hands out a classroom seating chart. It’s anything but random. Her students—Hispanic, Russian, and Anglo—are grouped in tables of four with a mix of English language proficiencies. Examining the chart, Wiencek tells the teachers, “To meet kids’ needs, we really have to think about differentiation and not be grey about it. We need to know if they’re at the intermediate level, early intermediate, and so on.” Wood fills the group in on which students are on IEPs, who just came back from an extended stay in Mexico, and who has health issues.

During the class, the observers will focus on different tables, determining if each student understands the lesson and performs at or above his or her English proficiency level. They’ll also check to see if the students are fulfilling their designated roles as table captain, facilitator, recorder, or reporter.

In a debriefing session after the class, the teachers feel positive about the lesson. Principal Bill Rhoades is impressed with the students’ ability to apply science terms they’ve previously learned. Erin Voelker observed kids helping each other stay focused on the task and says the class has inspired her to find more activities where her students can use different roles. Robert Shearer says he learned that “getting through the activity isn’t as vital as getting to the ending: You need to reach closure where you go through your goals again.” Jody Wiencek tells Wood, “It’s evident you have high expectations of your students and are getting them to develop as a learning community.” Wood agrees that her students “know there’s accountability because I revisit their daily goal.”

Principal Rhoades, himself a graduate of Woodburn schools, places a high value on professional development activities like this one—even to the point of substituting in the classroom to free up teachers. “Our notion is that every day can be a professional development day with our teams and our ability to interact.” He adds, “It’s a good place to be when you see people disappointed if they don’t get to go to professional development. It means that they understand the benefits and it becomes more likely it gets implemented in the classroom.” Rhoades uses federal title dollars and NCLB school improvement money to bring in consultants and purchase services, but his goal is to continue developing his staff’s capacity to do these activities on their own.

Restructuring

At the district’s other middle school, French Prairie, intensive professional development carries much higher stakes. It’s seen as the “major key to our school transformation” and a way to focus monthly on power standards. French Prairie is in the uncomfortable position of undergoing restructuring as a result of NCLB sanctions.

Principal Eric Swenson, who joined the school as a change agent in 2005, says, “One of the first calls I received was from an Associated Press reporter who wanted to know my thoughts on being a new principal at one of the few middle schools in the nation in the fifth year of corrective action. ... I replied that I honestly wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Swenson, together with his new assistant principal and school improvement coordinator, have thrown themselves into battle with a religious fervor. They hired 10 new teachers—including four new bilingual teachers—and rearranged students in heterogeneous “small communities of learning.” They’ve adopted a collaborative leadership approach, increased the focus on authentic assessment, and added more dual-language instruction and targeted English language development classes.

They also went after parents in what Swenson calls an “unrelenting” way, showing up at Wal-Mart and local apartment complexes to spread the word that French Prairie welcomed family and community involvement. As a result, 1,000 people showed up for the school’s first open house this fall.

Assistant Principal Edward Tabet admits that turning the school around involves working 12-hour days and “trying to build the plane as you’re flying it.” But with the support and resources provided by Swenson, Blomberg, and Bautista, he believes they can do it. School Improvement Coordinator Paul LaBarre, a former Jesuit volunteer, agrees that a lot is riding on their efforts. “Middle school is where we have to fight the fight,” he says. “We can’t just send them off to high school unprepared.”

Finishing the Journey

Woodburn High, the district’s only high school, is waging its own fight to hold onto students and to make their last years in school more rigorous and relevant. With the help of an Oregon Small Schools grant, the high school is breaking into four academies next fall. At a series of assemblies, Woodburn teachers try to drum up enthusiasm for small schools that will focus on international studies, business, communications, and arts and science. Each of the academies will offer advisories and the opportunity to enroll in International Baccalaureate classes. Currently, about 20 percent of Woodburn’s students take at least one IB course, but the faculty hopes to see those numbers grow.

David Winterburn, the school’s bilingual coordinator, describes the student body as very heterogeneous—from recent immigrants to Spanish speakers born in Oregon. Students come from Mexico or Eastern Europe with grade-level academics or barely any formal schooling. “Our biggest challenge is trying to meet all their needs and making sure teachers have the proper training to work with students whose first language isn’t English,” says Winterburn, whose own language skills include Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and Cape Verdean and Guinea-Bissaun Creole.

Tom Gazzola, the assistant vice principal for curriculum, sees the restructuring as a way to make huge changes that will benefit all students—no matter whether they’ve just arrived from Moldavia or are Woodburn born and bred. “Breaking into small schools shakes everybody up,” he says. “It makes them think about what’s possible. And while it’s possible to take an ocean liner of a school and make changes, it’s easier with a rowboat.”

In the front hallway of the high school—right under the banner that says welcome in Russian, Spanish, and English—senior Yesenia Chavez reflects on what it’s like to be a product of the Woodburn School District. “The best thing is you become more open to people because it’s so diverse,” she says. “You get to experience three cultures together.”

Superintendent Blomberg would be happy to hear that. It’s an affirmation of his vision of Woodburn students as the cultural brokers of tomorrow, believing in themselves and each other.