In August of 2003, I attended several weeks of DOE training along with 1,200 other newly hired parent coordinators, mostly women, of various ages and backgrounds. None of us had any idea what the job would entail—what skills would be needed, whether we would be welcomed or ignored. Were we working for the parents or the principals?
Lately, I’ve been thinking back and noting what’s changed since I first arrived at P.S. 89. In 2003 the budget was flush, and there were still empty classrooms in the five-year-old school.
But parents’ worries were not so different from now. They were concerned about test scores and class size, and they wanted a nearby zoned middle school.
But one aspect of the school was very different—admissions. Back then, there were no waitlists or alternate offers. Moving to the zone meant the promise of your child’s admission to your zoned school—as long as you could show proof of birth and address. Class size mattered, but we were obligated to enroll every child who lived in the zone, which back then encompassed all of Battery Park City.
One year the kindergarten classes hovered around 30 students in each of three classes, and parents weren’t happy. Neither were the teachers or the principal, but what was there to do? The next year, the numbers were so high that a fourth kindergarten class was needed. The following year, there were six. The art room and the computer rooms became classrooms. The parent room became an art room, and the technology program was relegated to what had been the boys’ locker room. Although no programs were lost, parents were alarmed and they raged at PTA meetings.
But no one did anything until one day in 2007 when the principal said something that changed the parents’ attitude. She described how P.S. 234 parents had lobbied for another school when they began to see the overcrowding. She said, and I am paraphrasing, “I am the principal, but this is your school.”
It was an aha! moment. Suddenly, parents became activists and were taking buses to Albany to rally for more schools. An overcrowding committee was formed, generating postcards, buttons and petitions. Local politicians such as Borough President Scott Stringer and then-Councilman Alan Gerson came and listened to parents, and began advocating for more schools. Soon, Community Board 1 joined in and Speaker Sheldon Silver’s overcrowding committee was born.
Proactive parents didn’t wait for the DOE; they searched the Downtown neighborhoods for new school sites. In September 2008, the principal and I, along with a group of parents, toured the Cove Club, which had housed the Battery Park City Conservancy.
There are now three more schools—P.S./I.S. 276, Spruce Street and Peck Slip—but parents are still scouting the area for new school sites.
This summer I have been fielding e-mails from parents moving to the neighborhood. Some have done research and are aware of the waitlists for kindergarten; others innocently assume that simply residing in one of the nearby high-rise apartment buildings entitles their child to a seat—the way it used to be. We are opening five kindergartens this year and some families moved away this summer—so there will most likely be space for everyone.
Key words: most likely.
When I first began, P.S. 89 was known as a school that would accept out-of-zone students. It had taken a hit after 9/11 when many BPC families evacuated and never returned. Parents who worked in the neighborhood would come to me with a report card in their hand, lobbying for their child to attend P.S. 89.
But the times had already changed, and when I went to the principal with these requests, she patiently explained that we could not accept out-of-zone families anymore. Still, I considered it my job to make the case.
Now, without much conversation, I send those parents to the district office, where variance requests are made, and suggest they consider another school. I’m friendly but firm. I don’t even feel that bad about it anymore. I’ve toughened up, I suppose. After a decade, I tread a line between optimism and realism. I use more qualifiers in my replies, and I no longer make promises.
Connie Schraft is P.S. 89’s parent coordinator. For questions and comments, write her at connie@tribecatrib.com.