I'll never forget the look on his face as he walked up the stairs, the very first day we opened our doors at Harlem Village Academy. Jamal seemed too intense and aggravated for a ten-year-old. When I observed one of his morning classes, I saw him carelessly crumpling his homework and stuffing it into his backpack.
Later that day, I asked Jamal how he was doing, and he answered "I don't know," then added that he didn't want to be at this school. It was only 12:30 and he had already earned a detention.
When I met Jamal's dad for the first time at school's pot-luck dinner, he thanked me for tracking him down - no one had ever gone to such trouble to make sure he showed up at a school event before, he said. He had just finished a two-year jail sentence, but would not be coming back home to live with Jamal. He told me that he didn't want his son to make the same mistakes that he had made. We talked for a while that night.
Every day, Jamal continued to arrive looking as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He did not adjust to the school's culture easily. He was earning detentions almost daily, and his mother was becoming increasingly frustrated with both her son and the school's strict discipline code.
I explained to Jamal that our rules would not change, so he would have to change. I told him that we would always be here for him, but we expected excellence from him in every way, including effort, homework, and behavior. As the weeks went by, he started to open up about his fears and dreams. I reminded him what I told all our students on that first day of school: we are strict because we love you.
Like so many urban students, Jamal's aptitude was strong, but his academic performance was weak. With incredible dedication, our teachers worked together during Friday team meetings to share strategies for Jamal and for the many other students in similar situations. Our rapid-response data analysis system made clear exactly where he was struggling, so he was assigned to specific tutoring groups. He attended, albeit grudgingly. Slowly, as he learned more each week, his demeanor began to soften.
Then, one day in early December, I saw Jamal walking down the hall at dismissal, beaming. He had a paper in his hand, and he came up to tell me it was the first A he ever got on a math test. I told him that he didn't get the A, he earned it. "We both know this is the real you," I whispered. He smiled and tucked the test carefully into his backpack.
After New Years, Jamal's mother took me aside. She said, "I have to thank you and all the teachers. You gave me my son back. He is a child again."
Now, three years later, Jamal is an outstanding student. He attends after-school enrichment and volunteers for community service. And there are hundreds of children just like him at Village Academies. It is our responsibility to push them to do their best work, to teach with passion, to hold them to the highest standards, and to inspire students to become their best selves.
Education is an essential human right; it is the ultimate civil right. Transforming public education is the moral imperative of our generation, and the underlying solution to most of society's problems. The work is hard. But we can not rest - we will not rest - until every child is guaranteed an excellent education.
The revolution is happening here, and our community of friends is growing. With a deep sense of urgency, I invite you to join us in this important work.
Dr. Deborah Kenny was the founding principal of Harlem Village Academy. She is the Chief Executive Officer of Village Academies Network.
