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By Suzie Boss

Soon after the 25 seniors in Cascade High's Class of 2000 were awarded their diplomas last spring, science teacher Clint Kennedy headed off to Washington, D.C., to receive his own high honors. Winner of a Presidential Award for Excellence in teaching secondary science, Kennedy joined an elite group of educators for a week of seminars, sightseeing, and banquets.

One afternoon that week, while participating on a panel with about 15 biology teachers, the Idaho teacher was "astounded," he says, "to hear that only three of us thought small schools offered an advantage." The moderator, from the National Science Foundation, pointed out that research has demonstrated the benefits of smaller schools, prompting many large schools to reorganize as smaller learning communities. Says Kennedy, "It stunned me that these Presidential Award winners from other states hadn't recognized that yet."

In Cascade, Idaho, where about 220 students are enrolled in grades K-12, "it's very clear to us that the small-school scenario is so much more effective. It's better for everybody," he says.

Now 50, Kennedy came to Cascade, and to teaching, about a dozen years ago. He took a roundabout route to the classroom. In the 1970s, he was nearly finished with studies in biology, botany, and zoology at the University of Idaho when his wife gave birth prematurely to identical twin daughters. He turned to logging to pay medical bills and support his young family, just as his own father had done when Kennedy was growing up in the small town of Grangeville, Idaho. After 15 years of working in the woods, he decided to get back to his first love: science. "The best way I could figure out to keep living in small-town Idaho and be involved in science was to be a science teacher."

Soon after completing his teaching certificate, Kennedy interviewed for an opening in Cascade, a community of about 1,000 located 75 miles north of Boise in forested Long Valley. On their first visit to the town, Kennedy and his family took in the crisp high-altitude air and the mountains rising to 9,000 feet behind man-made Cascade Lake. Dangling their feet in that clear, cold reservoir water, Kennedy, his wife, daughters, and son "looked at each other and decided this was the Idaho we loved." He's never taught anywhere else.

Although today Cascade High enjoys a reputation for academic excellence and innovation—including designation as a national Blue Ribbon School and membership in William Glasser's Quality Schools—that wasn't always the case. The front hall used to display only sports awards, not the academic honors that shine in the trophy case these days.

Gradually, Cascade has embraced new ideas to support students and help teachers do their job more effectively. Rather than mandating top-down change, Principal Bill Leaf "kind of presents ideas, encourages us to discuss things, then lets the staff decide," Kennedy says. The high school, which averages 130 students in grades seven through 12, has adopted a 95-minute block schedule. For a science teacher like Kennedy, that means time to schedule labs that promote hands-on, project-oriented learning. Teachers have identified students' individual learning styles and have learned how to make classroom adjustments for learners who are more visual, auditory, tactile, or kinesthetic. Although small, Cascade has managed to bring in big names in education to discuss research-based strategies and has won financial support from the Albertson Foundation and other sources.

The school is also a state leader in integrating technology; every junior and senior is provided with a laptop computer, complete with wireless Internet access. (In fact, the district was exploring the use of multimedia systems for instruction as early as 1968, when it was a field test site for a small-schools project of the Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory.)

"All these things are easier to implement in a small school," Kennedy believes. "If you don't have a ton of students, it's easier to identify their learning styles and have teachers address them. We don't struggle with bureaucracy here. I don't have to jump through any hoops to get my kids out of class for a field trip. Can you imagine going to a large school and checking out a laptop to every student? It would never happen. Yet, it's a powerful thing to do for kids."

Empowering students is what Kennedy is all about, and he's convinced that a smaller school is the best place for that to happen. "The freedom these kids have is unreal. If they want a certain class, all they have to do is ask for it. Our principal is committed to meeting their requests. All he asks is that at least 10 kids sign up." If kids want to use the gym to shoot hoops at night or stay late to work on a project, they just have to ask to gain access. "They feel like the school is theirs. They're not just going to some building. That really shows up in kids' attitudes, and in what goes on here in the classrooms." What helps create such a positive climate, Kennedy says, "is that these kids know their teachers, they know the principal, they know the superintendent. Nobody's just a face in the crowd. Students' opinions mean something. The relationship kids have with adults here is phenomenal."

Just how far can kids go, when given support, encouragement, and opportunities for learning? Judging by the outcomes of Kennedy's Advanced Biology class, the sky's the limit. The two-year elective immerses students in scientific inquiry—researching and solving real-life environmental problems that affect their own community. The class began several years ago with a focus on water quality problems at Cascade Reservoir, which sits just a few blocks from the school building. Kennedy provides students with a foundation in physical, chemical, and biological sciences, then turns them loose in small teams to pose their own questions and seek solutions. They must find the funds to implement research projects and locate the experts to help answer their questions. While learning about science, they learn the real-world lesson of balancing the different strengths that individuals bring to a team.

The class also offers the kind of experience that keeps Kennedy excited about teaching. "In a small school, I get to teach six or seven preps. For me, that's an advantage," he says, although he knows colleagues in larger schools who would disagree. "I'd go crazy if I had to teach the same thing all day long." In his Advanced Biology class, he says, "the students and I learn together. I don't have to be the expert. They come to me when they get stumped on a problem, and I help them figure out how to learn what they need to know to move forward. Then they're off again, doing their own thing. I love that," he says. "We underestimate the capabilities of kids. We so seldom give them a chance to really think and apply what they know. We should never hold them back."

Over the years, student projects have earned competitive grants, won national awards in science contests, and enhanced the local environment. Students have designed wetlands, engineered solutions to save struggling trout populations, and even convinced local ranchers to change how they use the land. One year, four girls who called themselves the "Sewage Sisters" worked with British engineers to study the feasibility of introducing a cutting-edge sewage treatment technology in Idaho. Cascade students have published findings in scientific and educational journals. Lately, their interest has expanded beyond the lake to include projects involving the DNA of hot springs bacteria and a regional solution to control noxious weeds. Student researchers testify before government agencies and speak to community groups to build support for their solutions. In the process, they forge bonds of respect between school and community.

The first year that Kennedy suggested his students enter their projects in a national contest, they balked. "They told me, 'oh Mr. Kennedy, we're just a small school in Idaho. We're not going to get anywhere,'" he recalls. But that year when the Seiko Youth Challenge announced its semifinalists for the 11-state western region, little Cascade High had won two of the five spots. One team went on to nationals and wound up as one of the top five teams in the nation. "They found out it's not a matter of who you are or where you're from. It's a matter of how hard you're willing to work," Kennedy says. "From that point on, interest in the class exploded. These kids have been winning awards and recognition ever since."

After a dozen years in the classroom, Kennedy has come to see his job this way: "I'm there to present my students with opportunities. I'll do everything in my power to get them time, equipment, and resources to put them in a position to do something neat. Whether they take advantage of that opportunity is up to them," he says. Most kids will jump at the offer, and Kennedy understands why. "When I've wanted to start new projects in my classroom, this community has been there to support me. They create opportunities for teachers like me. Would that occur in larger places? Maybe. But it's sure a lot easier here."

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