Friday, March 05, 2004
Monrovia School Link ~ Number 72 ~ Jan. 22, 2004
This newsletter is rather different from any of the previous ones. Hopefully I'll be able to do something like this every once in a while. This time, Monina Diaz. If you have any good ideas for topics, let me know.
~ Brad Haugaard (brad@sacklunch.net)
Since I've stopped going to the school board meetings regularly (Thank you, volunteers!), I decided I can slack off on my rule against speaking to board members. I had this rule because I was afraid if I spoke to them I'd like them, and then I'd find it difficult to say hard things when I felt it was necessary. But now I'm free!
So, having chucked my rule out the window, I decided to talk to board member Monina Diaz, who has intrigued me for some time. She was initially appointed, more than two years ago, to fill out a term when a board member moved out of town, then she won reelection. She was only about 25 when she was appointed - she's 27 now - and when she first came on the board I thought she seemed bright but I wondered if she had enough life experience. But since then I've seen these occasional sparks of creativity and initiative that interest me and made me curious about who she is. So she and I met at Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf last Saturday to chat.
Monina works as an intern at "a capital management company" and works part time at her mother's business. She drinks hot vanilla latte thingies through a straw (we all have our besetting sins) and takes her faith seriously (I infer this from her comments about praying and that she drives all the way into downtown LA to attend - and teach Sunday School at - a little church she likes.) She is thinking of going on to business school and is a big fan of management guru Peter Drucker's books, though now she tells me she's excited about a book called "Lincoln on Leadership." Also, based on her educational background and my chat with her, I'd say she's sharp as a razor.
Monina grew up in Monrovia, attended the private Foothill Preschool, where, she said, unlike some preschools, she actually learned things. For elementary school she went to Wild Rose Elementary, where she was plunked into the GATE program. In about third or fourth grade classmates were talking about going to college and she thought that sounded fun, so she decided to go to college. (A good example of positive peer influence, she said.)
From preschool on, she said, she has loved reading. Though she watched her mother read - and thought it looked like fun - she said her parents seldom read to her and never really pushed her to do her homework. She just did it. (I wonder if they didn't push because she didn't need pushing.) Anyway, she said she always figured school was the place where you caught the idea and home was where you really learned it.
Then, at Clifton Middle School, where she was again in GATE classes, she served as ASB president. At Monrovia High she was freshman and sophomore ASB president, president of the French Club, a member of the National Honors Society, and a cheerleader.
From Monrovia High she went to Princeton. One reason she choose it was because at Clifton she missed a class trip to the East Coast because her parents weren't excited about her taking such a long trip and besides, they couldn't afford to send her, not with seven kids to support. So when it came time to pick a college, she was attracted to Princeton. That would be her big trip to the East Coast.
I asked, "You didn't have enough money for a trip back east but you had enough to attend Princeton?"
"I had this childlike faith," she said. "I knew someone was going to pay for it; not me and not my parents. $120,000 didn't seem like a lot of money." She made it through with scholarships, financial aid and a few small loans.
"And what did your parents think of you going to school a continent away?"
"I was very independent. Mom was not enthusiastic, but what were they going to do? I kind of told her." But her father has relatives in New York, she said, so that softened the blow.
At Princeton Monina was accepted to The Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, which, she said, is an elite program that accepts only about 80 students and which tries to solve "impossible problems." She tackled a couple impossible problems: terrorism and the intelligence community, and later, the problems of U.S. education, particularly as it involves educating immigrants. This problem, she said, has kept her fascinated ever since.
Back home in Monrovia, she met with her friend Bruce Carter, also on the board. She said, "I vented my frustrations with him." She told him she believed students are capable of doing much more. "Why can't students do real research in history or science?" she asked. "Why can't they write real novels?" She said one problem is that students are just bored. She said Carter told her she had great ideas and when a school board position opened up he asked her to run. She thought she should be older, but he disagreed. "He kept hounding me," she said. So, at the last minute she turned in her application, and the board appointed her to finish the term of Yolanda Gallardo, who had moved out of town.
And she thinks she's a pretty good fit on the board, because, she said, she represents a cross-section of the community. She's a long time resident, her father is Hispanic and her mother is black. And through her mother, she knows the history of the district. Her mother, she said, grew up in Monrovia at a time when elementary age black children weren't taught, but were just given crayons to play with.
But her voyage from low income roots, where her family didn't even prompt her to do her homework, to being a fairly prominent member of the community suggests something else to me. I've heard low income used as an explanation of why some schools don't do as well as others, and I do accept that there is some connection (after all, it is likely higher income parents got where they're at by education and therefore push their kids to get educated), but still, I have this nagging feeling that sometimes this is used as an excuse. So, I ask her if she thinks this is a legitimate reason for poor test results.
"No," she said, "Our test scores can be as high as anyone else's." But, she said, a lot of education goes on - or should go on - at home with the family (At first I think that by "family" she means "parents," but she includes big bothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins). The home front, she says, is especially important.
True enough, I think, but you play the cards you're dealt. The school district doesn't control the parents, but it does control the schools, regardless of whether the parents are helping. So what I'm trying to figure out is how she thinks the district can do a better job with what it has under its control. I press a bit harder.
She replied that instruction needs to be tailored to the student. She said she's a visual learner and fit in easily in the classroom, but, she said, "I'm not the norm," and others learn differently. As a school board member, she said, when she walks into a classroom, she wants to see every child engaged in learning, whatever form that may take. And, she said, the district needs to provide the resources so the teachers can make this happen.
Further, she said, "I want good people paid well, but I want good people. I want to pay for quality." She said teachers should get real coaching and support, and if, despite that, there are still problems, "we need to let them go before tenure sets in."
To develop excellence, she said, the district needs to define what is meant by a "great classroom, great teacher and great principal." Those definitions, she said, can't just be the board's decision, but also need to involve the teachers and the community. In this, she said, members Betty Sandford and Bruce Carter (the members with whom she has worked longest) are in agreement.
I ask about public hearings. Will there be public hearings to help determine what defines a "great classroom, great teacher and great principal?"
She said she's not sure. The matter isn't on the agenda yet, she added. But somehow she didn't seem too enthusiastic about public hearings. She explained that this is because she doesn't think public hearings represent a cross-section of the community. They represent the vocal people.
Then how do you get a good cross section? I ask.
She suggests focus groups.
Can't focus groups be skewed?
Yes, she agrees they can, and she mentions some other possibilities, such as polling, or even walking door to door, maybe using students to make phone calls, or do an Internet survey.
She adds that Bruce Carter told her that before her time on the board (or my time watching, I might add) the board had "Town Hall meetings" at various schools, but Carter (she said) told her that people would get up and ask questions like (I think this was just an off-the-cuff example), "Why is there no stadium at my school?"
I'm sorry, but on this point I am completely without sympathy. I kinda figure that's the price of being a public official. You gotta listen to people's thoughts, wise, foolish, and - my pet peeve - repetitive. In short, "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it," to quote Super Chicken, I think it was.
I press a bit harder about public hearings and Monina agrees, that yes, they might be part of the mix.
As I think about this following the interview, I agree with Monina's basic point about the value of getting a cross section of opinion, but a few things concern me. First, focus groups can be as utterly skewed as public hearings. Board members invite their buddies to a focus group and, Bingo! Instant skewed focus group. Also, it takes a skilled focus group moderator to avoid "leading the witness," so to speak. Also, while I agree that public hearings bring out the vocal few, occasionally the vocal few are vocal because they've given the matter a bit of thought and want to express their views, and public hearings (I mean ones to which the public is actually invited) give them a good opportunity to do that. Yes, people say dumb things at public hearings, but they also say dumb things at focus groups. I remember being behind the "soundproof" glass at one focus group and hearing something so dumb that we all busted up laughing. We were so loud that the focus group people looked over at the glass.
Now on to an area in which I believe Monina shines.
When she first got on the board she was excited about a book she had just read by Peter Drucker on management, and based on Drucker's theories she felt it should be the board's responsibilities to connect with the community. This belief, if I understand correctly, was the impetus for the board's "community campaign," which sponsored a parent institute to help parents better assist their children in school.
But, she said, that campaign was just the beginning of connecting with the community. She has visions of Monrovians being far more deeply involved. She'd like to see students doing internships at local companies; she'd like to see musicians and graphic designers and JPL rocket scientists and other professionals brought in to speak to students; she'd like to keep an alumni list and keep people actively involved, perhaps by using the Internet.
For example, she said she has seen Joel Shawn, who is in charge of curriculum, opening boxes. "I don't want him to do that," she said. "I know what we pay him." But if the district had a database of volunteers, she said, it could contact people who could help with opening boxes, or whatever the task might be. People could come to the Web site and see what is available. Community members and volunteers could communicate with each other through the Web site. People could even donate on-line.
Whether or not this all pans out, she's thinking creatively, and I appreciate that. I wish her well in tackling these projects.
But she doesn't think her efforts alone are enough.
"I pray a lot," she said. "God has to be at work in this."
This newsletter is rather different from any of the previous ones. Hopefully I'll be able to do something like this every once in a while. This time, Monina Diaz. If you have any good ideas for topics, let me know.
~ Brad Haugaard (brad@sacklunch.net)
Since I've stopped going to the school board meetings regularly (Thank you, volunteers!), I decided I can slack off on my rule against speaking to board members. I had this rule because I was afraid if I spoke to them I'd like them, and then I'd find it difficult to say hard things when I felt it was necessary. But now I'm free!
So, having chucked my rule out the window, I decided to talk to board member Monina Diaz, who has intrigued me for some time. She was initially appointed, more than two years ago, to fill out a term when a board member moved out of town, then she won reelection. She was only about 25 when she was appointed - she's 27 now - and when she first came on the board I thought she seemed bright but I wondered if she had enough life experience. But since then I've seen these occasional sparks of creativity and initiative that interest me and made me curious about who she is. So she and I met at Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf last Saturday to chat.
Monina works as an intern at "a capital management company" and works part time at her mother's business. She drinks hot vanilla latte thingies through a straw (we all have our besetting sins) and takes her faith seriously (I infer this from her comments about praying and that she drives all the way into downtown LA to attend - and teach Sunday School at - a little church she likes.) She is thinking of going on to business school and is a big fan of management guru Peter Drucker's books, though now she tells me she's excited about a book called "Lincoln on Leadership." Also, based on her educational background and my chat with her, I'd say she's sharp as a razor.
Monina grew up in Monrovia, attended the private Foothill Preschool, where, she said, unlike some preschools, she actually learned things. For elementary school she went to Wild Rose Elementary, where she was plunked into the GATE program. In about third or fourth grade classmates were talking about going to college and she thought that sounded fun, so she decided to go to college. (A good example of positive peer influence, she said.)
From preschool on, she said, she has loved reading. Though she watched her mother read - and thought it looked like fun - she said her parents seldom read to her and never really pushed her to do her homework. She just did it. (I wonder if they didn't push because she didn't need pushing.) Anyway, she said she always figured school was the place where you caught the idea and home was where you really learned it.
Then, at Clifton Middle School, where she was again in GATE classes, she served as ASB president. At Monrovia High she was freshman and sophomore ASB president, president of the French Club, a member of the National Honors Society, and a cheerleader.
From Monrovia High she went to Princeton. One reason she choose it was because at Clifton she missed a class trip to the East Coast because her parents weren't excited about her taking such a long trip and besides, they couldn't afford to send her, not with seven kids to support. So when it came time to pick a college, she was attracted to Princeton. That would be her big trip to the East Coast.
I asked, "You didn't have enough money for a trip back east but you had enough to attend Princeton?"
"I had this childlike faith," she said. "I knew someone was going to pay for it; not me and not my parents. $120,000 didn't seem like a lot of money." She made it through with scholarships, financial aid and a few small loans.
"And what did your parents think of you going to school a continent away?"
"I was very independent. Mom was not enthusiastic, but what were they going to do? I kind of told her." But her father has relatives in New York, she said, so that softened the blow.
At Princeton Monina was accepted to The Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, which, she said, is an elite program that accepts only about 80 students and which tries to solve "impossible problems." She tackled a couple impossible problems: terrorism and the intelligence community, and later, the problems of U.S. education, particularly as it involves educating immigrants. This problem, she said, has kept her fascinated ever since.
Back home in Monrovia, she met with her friend Bruce Carter, also on the board. She said, "I vented my frustrations with him." She told him she believed students are capable of doing much more. "Why can't students do real research in history or science?" she asked. "Why can't they write real novels?" She said one problem is that students are just bored. She said Carter told her she had great ideas and when a school board position opened up he asked her to run. She thought she should be older, but he disagreed. "He kept hounding me," she said. So, at the last minute she turned in her application, and the board appointed her to finish the term of Yolanda Gallardo, who had moved out of town.
And she thinks she's a pretty good fit on the board, because, she said, she represents a cross-section of the community. She's a long time resident, her father is Hispanic and her mother is black. And through her mother, she knows the history of the district. Her mother, she said, grew up in Monrovia at a time when elementary age black children weren't taught, but were just given crayons to play with.
But her voyage from low income roots, where her family didn't even prompt her to do her homework, to being a fairly prominent member of the community suggests something else to me. I've heard low income used as an explanation of why some schools don't do as well as others, and I do accept that there is some connection (after all, it is likely higher income parents got where they're at by education and therefore push their kids to get educated), but still, I have this nagging feeling that sometimes this is used as an excuse. So, I ask her if she thinks this is a legitimate reason for poor test results.
"No," she said, "Our test scores can be as high as anyone else's." But, she said, a lot of education goes on - or should go on - at home with the family (At first I think that by "family" she means "parents," but she includes big bothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins). The home front, she says, is especially important.
True enough, I think, but you play the cards you're dealt. The school district doesn't control the parents, but it does control the schools, regardless of whether the parents are helping. So what I'm trying to figure out is how she thinks the district can do a better job with what it has under its control. I press a bit harder.
She replied that instruction needs to be tailored to the student. She said she's a visual learner and fit in easily in the classroom, but, she said, "I'm not the norm," and others learn differently. As a school board member, she said, when she walks into a classroom, she wants to see every child engaged in learning, whatever form that may take. And, she said, the district needs to provide the resources so the teachers can make this happen.
Further, she said, "I want good people paid well, but I want good people. I want to pay for quality." She said teachers should get real coaching and support, and if, despite that, there are still problems, "we need to let them go before tenure sets in."
To develop excellence, she said, the district needs to define what is meant by a "great classroom, great teacher and great principal." Those definitions, she said, can't just be the board's decision, but also need to involve the teachers and the community. In this, she said, members Betty Sandford and Bruce Carter (the members with whom she has worked longest) are in agreement.
I ask about public hearings. Will there be public hearings to help determine what defines a "great classroom, great teacher and great principal?"
She said she's not sure. The matter isn't on the agenda yet, she added. But somehow she didn't seem too enthusiastic about public hearings. She explained that this is because she doesn't think public hearings represent a cross-section of the community. They represent the vocal people.
Then how do you get a good cross section? I ask.
She suggests focus groups.
Can't focus groups be skewed?
Yes, she agrees they can, and she mentions some other possibilities, such as polling, or even walking door to door, maybe using students to make phone calls, or do an Internet survey.
She adds that Bruce Carter told her that before her time on the board (or my time watching, I might add) the board had "Town Hall meetings" at various schools, but Carter (she said) told her that people would get up and ask questions like (I think this was just an off-the-cuff example), "Why is there no stadium at my school?"
I'm sorry, but on this point I am completely without sympathy. I kinda figure that's the price of being a public official. You gotta listen to people's thoughts, wise, foolish, and - my pet peeve - repetitive. In short, "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it," to quote Super Chicken, I think it was.
I press a bit harder about public hearings and Monina agrees, that yes, they might be part of the mix.
As I think about this following the interview, I agree with Monina's basic point about the value of getting a cross section of opinion, but a few things concern me. First, focus groups can be as utterly skewed as public hearings. Board members invite their buddies to a focus group and, Bingo! Instant skewed focus group. Also, it takes a skilled focus group moderator to avoid "leading the witness," so to speak. Also, while I agree that public hearings bring out the vocal few, occasionally the vocal few are vocal because they've given the matter a bit of thought and want to express their views, and public hearings (I mean ones to which the public is actually invited) give them a good opportunity to do that. Yes, people say dumb things at public hearings, but they also say dumb things at focus groups. I remember being behind the "soundproof" glass at one focus group and hearing something so dumb that we all busted up laughing. We were so loud that the focus group people looked over at the glass.
Now on to an area in which I believe Monina shines.
When she first got on the board she was excited about a book she had just read by Peter Drucker on management, and based on Drucker's theories she felt it should be the board's responsibilities to connect with the community. This belief, if I understand correctly, was the impetus for the board's "community campaign," which sponsored a parent institute to help parents better assist their children in school.
But, she said, that campaign was just the beginning of connecting with the community. She has visions of Monrovians being far more deeply involved. She'd like to see students doing internships at local companies; she'd like to see musicians and graphic designers and JPL rocket scientists and other professionals brought in to speak to students; she'd like to keep an alumni list and keep people actively involved, perhaps by using the Internet.
For example, she said she has seen Joel Shawn, who is in charge of curriculum, opening boxes. "I don't want him to do that," she said. "I know what we pay him." But if the district had a database of volunteers, she said, it could contact people who could help with opening boxes, or whatever the task might be. People could come to the Web site and see what is available. Community members and volunteers could communicate with each other through the Web site. People could even donate on-line.
Whether or not this all pans out, she's thinking creatively, and I appreciate that. I wish her well in tackling these projects.
But she doesn't think her efforts alone are enough.
"I pray a lot," she said. "God has to be at work in this."
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