ALTERNATIVE to What?

The true story of a principal's first assignment at an Alternative Magnet School in the nation's 2nd largest school districtBy Jeanne E. Hon Roy Hon Jr. Ken Easum Ron Klemp

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Dr. Jeanne E. Hon
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-0140-7

Contents

Chapter 1 Alternative to What?................................................................................................1Chapter 2 I Can Just See The Parents Sitting On Her Lap!......................................................................5Chapter 3 My-My, My Dear, You Do Have A Challenge, Don't You?.................................................................16Chapter 4 Black One Year and White the Next...................................................................................21Chapter 5 I guess it is true that the hand is quicker than the eye............................................................25Chapter 6 What Do You Mean, Godzilla?.........................................................................................37Chapter 7 Why Is That Patch of Fuzz a Different Color?........................................................................50Chapter 8 Pomp and Circumstance on a Kazoo!...................................................................................59Chapter 9 You Just Sit There and You Suck It In...............................................................................68Chapter 10 My, You Are a Big Boy, Aren't You?.................................................................................94Chapter 11 I May Not Have A College Education, But I Can Tell The Difference Between Privates And Fingers.....................99Chapter 12 The Grand Adventure................................................................................................126Glossary/Index of Terms ~ In Case You Want to Know ~..........................................................................134

Chapter One

Alternative to What?

Sometimes life has an odd way of playing out. Feeling a combination of butterflies and excitement, I sat in front of the empty classroom, waiting for my graduate students. The previous Friday I had retired as Principal of Hollywood High School, (yes, the Hollywood High School), and here it was—Monday night—and I was now a university professor, beginning to teach the last class students needed to take before receiving their Master's Degree and credential in School Administration. I had all kinds of ideas and illusions about what my first class would be like. I was correct in having anticipated that as they came into the classroom, some would sit in the back row, deliberately not making eye contact, and some would sit in the front row, pen in hand, eyes twinkling, ready for the "wisdom of the ages." What I really hadn't comprehended was the fact that these were not young students living at home and enjoying school. They were adults who had worked all day, had mates, babies, responsibilities, and often the flu, and after teaching reluctant students all day had rushed from their schools to become my reluctant students at night.

I had only two firm rules that I felt very strongly about: there would be no tardies (I hated having to repeat things over and over because people drifted into class late) and, after the second absence, a student would lose a full grade. Although I never changed these two mandates, real-life circumstances would change my classes. A student who was also a parent would stand in the hallway outside the classroom with a child, half-listening to my lecture while waiting for a mate or babysitter to come get the child, so as not to be tardy to class. I asked these young mothers and fathers to please bring their children into class, offered them paper and crayons, and thus broke one of the college's primary rules: no children in class. As to absences, students faithfully obeyed my rules, but I found them coming to class sick, troubled, and exhausted. Again, in order to justify my rules, I had to spend hours preparing relevant information to supplement an out-of-date textbook in order to make the class worthwhile. I had to incorporate all the witty, amusing, and real-life experiences that would keep my students awake and help them in their first assignments as school administrators. Thus came about the breaking of another prime university rule. I started bringing snacks and sweets to help students through the evening, and then they started bringing dishes, and we all ate together. Out the door, with all the trash we collected so no one would know, went the rule: "No eating in the classroom."

My students seemed genuinely fond of me, but I was more than fond of them. I was amazed at how hard they worked and how determined they were to succeed. One example was found in an attractive young woman with curly, bouncy, golden hair, and sparkling blue eyes. Bubbling over with personality and enthusiasm, she was dressed in the latest style; she was a perfect example of what was known as the "Valley Girl." The evening's class began with each student introducing him or herself and telling a little bit about his or her assignment and aspirations. We quickly learned that this young lady was in her first credential class after graduation. Since this was the last class for the Master's Degree, I thought, she must really know somebody. Thus she gained the title, "Princess." She was naïvely enthused about being assigned to work with minority children in Watts, in South Los Angeles, and she felt that she could make a real difference in her students' lives. I could see my other students looking at each other skeptically, but I congratulated her on her assignment, reserving comment. At the next class meeting her curls were a little less bouncy, and as we all shared that week's experiences, she soldiered on, participating in the class. The following week her bouncy curls had straightened out and she had on almost no makeup. No one commented, but we all knew what was happening. At the beginning of each class I always asked if anything exciting or different had happened at my students' schools since our last meeting, and "Princess" could hardly contain her excitement as she told us how her entire elementary campus had been locked-down that day due to police activity. There had been shots fired in the community and police thought the shooter had run into the school. Her descriptions were graphic. She said that the moment they announced the lockdown, every child in her first grade class had immediately said, "I have to pee." One member of the class asked, "What did you do?" and she replied, "We used a wastebasket," prompting another student to comment, "At least she had a wastebasket!" She went on to say that in her panic, she didn't know why, but she picked up her cell phone and called her father in the San Fernando Valley, telling him that her school was on lock-down because of gunshots. He immediately started shouting at her, "I told you not to go to Watts. Come home!" This special young woman not only did not go home, she stayed, went back the second year, and started working on her administration credential.

Although I spent hours gathering relevant material to supplement an outdated textbook, my most valuable time was immediately after class when most students would leave, but there would always be one or two who stayed behind. These students ran the gamut. One young woman told me that she was divorcing her husband, but that her mother and mother-in-law were angry with her for disgracing the family. They had told her that...