The Superintendent Who Listens, part seven:
A Changing Landscape
As you travel west on Broadway from the Hollywood district, where Fernwood Middle School chalks up some of the district’s highest scores, the landscape changes with a startling abruptness. At a snarled intersection where streets and freeways collide in a tangle of traffic and concrete, Broadway dips steeply toward the river. The avenue’s bistros and boutiques suddenly give way to a gray phalanx of warehouses, body shops, and wholesale suppliers. A grain elevator hulks on the waterfront.
Just past the freeway onramp, where trucks rumble down I-5 day and night, Harriet Tubman, one of Portland’s most troubled middle schools, shares a block with Industrial Welding Supply. At 6:30 on Thursday mornings, workers driving to early shifts might see a dusty black Ford Explorer pull up to the school’s library, its corrugated metal siding blending with neighboring buildings. Ben Canada’s workday has begun. It won’t end till he drops into bed after answering every one of his 100-plus e-mails well after midnight.
On this still-dark October morning, Canada is speaking with one of the district’s most important constituencies: students. Kids from middle schools and high schools all over the district yawn over cold Danish at the weekly meeting of the Super SAC — the superintendent’s student advisory council. There are clean-cut boys in baseball caps next to guys with ponytails and goatees. Girls in raggedy jackets sit beside girls with carefully applied makeup. This diverse group is linked by a shared interest: being heard.
As the sun begins to tint the sky outside, the superintendent and students engage in a spirited give and take on issues facing the district. The conversation veers away from the official topics — Boy Scout recruiting and Nike’s upcoming youth forum — to pro-life demonstrations at one high school, an after-school rumble at another, and a panic at a neighboring district. They’ve touched on the KKK, Columbine, and Channel One by the time they break into committees to tackle student government, scheduling, fees, teacher evaluation, teacher recognition, and statewide standards testing.
"I like the idea of students having a voice and the superintendent’s ear," says Kalin Schmoldt, a Cleveland High senior on the council.
Says Franklin High senior Adrienne Armstrong: "I want youth to have a voice in decisions that are being made about them. I think Dr. Canada is a great guy. He’s being very strong in what he believes and he’s not giving up."
Adrienne shares with Canada a passion for the arts. This young activist is doing her part by leading a petition drive to return the arts to her high school. For his part, the big man who sings baritone in his church choir told school board members he wouldn’t take the Portland job unless they work with him to restore every child’s chance to blow a horn, bang a drum, belt out a song, dabble in paint, mold in clay, play a role onstage or backstage.
In characteristic collaborative fashion, Canada is tapping into the strengths of the city at large. He and a team of teachers are working "to bring all the arts organizations in the community to one table to talk about how do we blend resources, blend ideas, and give support to getting the arts back into the classroom."
He reminisces about Portland’s glory days, which he watched from afar. "Portland at one time had some of the finest arts components you could find anywhere in the country. Portland was viewed as a really neat place. You’d look at Portland to see what was working in urban education. They were always on the cutting edge of innovation — great thinkers, great staff."
Portland schools have lost some of their old luster. But, he says, "We’ll take it back."
