September 17, 2003
What Would Teachers Do if They Had the Chance? This
By
KAREN W. ARENSON
alaries for
teachers at the new primary school at Columbia University go as high as
$100,000. The student-teacher ratio is five to one. And the school,
which opens today, intends to develop individual learning plans for
every student.
In a bold and costly bid to attract and hold professors,
Columbia has
created one of the most ambitious private elementary schools in the
city — one where 20 percent of the staff members have doctorates.
Formally known as the School at Columbia University, it offers a
glimpse of what educators might come up with if they had the time, the
money and the freedom to do whatever they wanted.
"It's every educator's dream to invent a new school starting
with a
blank sheet of paper, and with the resources of an Ivy League
university behind you," Gardner P. Dunnan, whose title is head of
school, said happily last week as he sat in the school's spacious cafe,
which will dispense free juice, fruit and coffee all day.
The school is unusual in other ways, too. Its original market
was the
children of Columbia professors. But to placate critics who argued that
the university should improve local public schools rather than create
another private school, Columbia agreed that half of the students would
come from the neighborhood, and that it would provide the financial aid
for them to attend. And to ensure that it would not skim top students
from the local public schools, Columbia agreed to choose the students
by lottery.
More than 1,700 neighborhood children applied for about 100
openings
this year.
The school, at West 110th Street and Broadway, includes only
kindergarten through the fourth grade this year, but by 2006 it will go
through eighth grade and enroll 650 students. The ratio of students to
instructional staff will rise to 7 to 1, which Mr. Dunnan said is
typical of independent schools and top suburban schools.
All of this comes at a high cost. Columbia is paying at least
half of
the $22,000 tuition charge for all children of faculty members (more
than half for lower-income faculty members), and an average of 80
percent of the tuition of the community students. Only 6 of the 200
students entering this week are paying full tuition, school officials
said.
The total cost of the school is to be more than $12 million a
year,
including building costs, university officials said. School officials
hope to bring in revenue through consulting, product sales and
donations.
Lee C. Bollinger, Columbia's president, declined to discuss
the
school's finances, except to say: "There is no question this is
expensive. But there are lots of things we have to do to maintain
pre-eminence in higher education in the United States."
Few universities have such schools. But before drawing up
their plans,
Columbia officials visited two campuses that did — the University of
Chicago and the University of California at Los Angeles — as well as
public schools in the Boston area attended by children of faculty
members.
Last week, construction work was still going on at the school.
But
there were beginning to be clear spaces, like the lime-green cafe with
purple chairs, and classrooms where teachers had begun putting up
posters, arranging books and laying rugs for students to sprawl on.
One of the most inviting spaces was Theresa Kubasak's
first-grade
classroom, which she had outfitted with sofas, rugs, tree stumps and
2,000 of her own books, collected in more than 25 years of teaching.
Over the years, she has been torn between teaching needy
students at
public schools in a city and the excitement of working at a laboratory
school in a university. What drew her to the Columbia school, she said,
was the chance to do both.
"This is a grand experiment to meld Columbia with the
neighborhood,"
she said. "I see my role as keeping that experiment on track, combining
the commitment to teach neighborhood kids with the academic freedom of
an independent school, where I can really feel free to run my classroom
based on best practices, without succumbing to the restraints of public
schools or the political constraints like No Child Left Behind."
She and the other teachers are building their lessons around a
unified
curriculum designed by Marc Meyer, the school's director of research
and curriculum design. Dr. Meyer, a medievalist, said he had shaped the
curriculum around the questions: "What does it mean to be a human
being?" and "What does it mean to be an educated person?"
"The best way to search for truth is to question," he said.
"Gosh,
Socrates told us this. There is nothing new in any of this. But the way
it comes together in an educational institution — in an integrated
curriculum — is innovative."
For each grade, he has mapped out specific themes, like "Me
and Myself"
(kindergarten), "Me and My Family" (first grade), and "Me and the
World" (fourth grade). Older students will explore the individual's
position in society, the clash of culture and civilization and the
quest for justice and liberty.
One morning last week, Talía González, a Spanish
teacher,
and Katherine Henderson, a wellness teacher, were discussing ways to
collaborate. One idea they discussed was staging a Mayan ball game
while students were studying Mayan creation myths and Mayan art.
Another was offering flamenco dancing to enrich the study of Spanish.
Over and over again, the teachers — 39 academic staff members
were
selected from about 1,700 applicants — talked of their awe for their
colleagues and how much they expect to learn. About a third of the
faculty are male; 40 percent come from public schools, 40 percent from
university-related schools and 20 percent from independent schools.
Mr. Dunnan, 63, has worked at both public and private schools.
He was
superintendent of schools in Briarcliff Manor, in Westchester. And for
23 years he was headmaster of the Dalton School, a private school that
draws the children of New York City's rich and famous. He resigned
under pressure from the trustees in 1997, prompted in part, school
officials said, by his affair with a married administrator, whom he
later married.
Several teachers said they had always wanted to create their
own
schools. One was Patricia G. MacDonald, a second- grade teacher who
left the Laboratory School at the University of Toronto to move to New
York and was waiting for her husband and child to join her. Another was
James Haywood Rolling Jr., an arts teacher who has had a one-man art
exhibit at Cooper Union (his alma mater) and sings in the Brooklyn
Tabernacle Choir.
"I toyed with the idea of starting my own school, but I didn't
really
have the skills," Dr. Rolling said. "The mission of this school
enthralled me. And starting a new school was a carrot, along with the
idea of having ownership in designing the curriculum and not fixing up
someone else's mess."
As the school opens, some community leaders who battled with
Columbia
over the school expressed approval. "We're thrilled," said David B.
Harris, a member of the Community Board 7 task force on the school. "We
think it's a win-win for the community."
But others, like Edward C. Sullivan, a former state
assemblyman for the
district including Columbia, are still unhappy. "They had an
opportunity to do something with the public schools that could have
been great, and could have been a model for other universities in the
city," he said. "But they chose not to. I'm sure this school will be
fine for the kids who are in it, but that's a select group."
Hannah Sachs, the 8-year-old daughter of Jeffrey Sachs, the
economist
who was recruited by Columbia from Harvard, will be entering third
grade at the school. Since she has just moved to New York, she is
pleased that she will not be the only new person in her class. But she
is impatient to get started.
"All of my friends have started school, and they're like:
`How's your
new school?' " she said yesterday. "And I have to tell them I haven't
started yet."
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