برچسب: transformed

  • Q&A: How the 50-year-old case that transformed English learner education began

    Q&A: How the 50-year-old case that transformed English learner education began


    Children pose on the steps of Immigrants Development Center of San Francisco in the 1970s.

    Credit: San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library

    Fifty years ago, the U.S. Supreme Court decided a case that would forever change education for English learners in this country.

    In the 1974 case Lau v. Nichols, the court decided that students learning English had a right to fully understand what was being taught in their classrooms, and that schools must take steps to make sure that they could, whether through additional instruction in English as a second language or bilingual education.

    Prior to the Supreme Court’s decision, the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals had said that San Francisco Unified was not discriminating against students by giving them the same materials and instruction as other students.

    Rather, it said the alleged discrimination was “the result of deficiencies created by the children themselves in failing to learn the English language.”

    Lucinda Lee Katz
    Credit: Courtesy of Lucinda Lee Katz

    The Supreme Court disagreed. “There is no equality of treatment merely by providing students with the same facilities, textbooks, teachers, and curriculum; for students who do not understand English are effectively foreclosed from any meaningful education,” wrote Justice William O. Douglas in the majority opinion.

    The Lau v. Nichols case is named for one of the plaintiffs, a little boy named Kinney Lau, who had recently emigrated from Hong Kong. Kinney Lau’s first grade teacher at Jean Parker Elementary School in San Francisco was Lucinda Lee Katz. 

    In an interview, Katz shared how this case marked her life, how it changed education for English learners and what remains to be done to give English learners full access to the same instruction as their peers.

    This interview was edited for clarity and brevity.

    How and why did you get involved with the Lau v. Nichols case?

    When I became a teacher, I had Kinney Lau in my first grade classroom. And Mrs. Lau said to me, “Miss Lee, I come from Hong Kong where all the students are exposed to two languages. We can read, write, speak and learn in English and Cantonese. I don’t understand why we can’t do that in San Francisco. Can you help us? Because Kinney is losing his experience with math learning, and I want him to keep up.” 

    English was the first language of instruction. Sometimes I could interpret or translate, but I knew I was stepping out of my lane when I did that.

    Mrs. Lau wanted formal instruction. She said, “I get it if you have to teach English and writing in English, but he’s losing valuable time not understanding math. So could you just teach math in Chinese?

    So that was the first conversation. I went home and told my roommates. They were all in law school. And I said, “Can we do something about it?” They took it to (the San Francisco) Neighborhood Legal Assistance (Foundation), and the person who took it on was Ed Steinman. And he took it all the way to the Supreme Court.

    What was your own experience in school like as a child, and how did it influence you?

    I went through Washington Irving Elementary School, Francisco Middle School and Lowell High School. I had not one Chinese teacher.

    My kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Thompson, kept saying, “No Chinese! No Chinese here! No Chinese!” All the kids in the classroom were Chinese and Chinese-speaking. As a kindergartner, I noted that, and I said to myself, “What is she talking about? She’s the only one that can’t speak Chinese, and I don’t get this.” So it stayed in my mind for a very long time.

    My father and his father were from China. And in 1882, the Chinese Exclusion Act was the first significant law that was passed by Congress restricting Chinese immigrants. It’s actually one of the most discriminatory laws in the books. Interestingly, the 1906 earthquake fire destroyed all the records in San Francisco. And as a result of that, and because of the discrimination, the Chinese found a way to come over through the “paper sons and daughters” system. So a Mr. Wong who lived in San Francisco and was a citizen could sell his name to somebody in China, and they would pay a lot of money. My father and grandfather came over as “paper sons,” and each of them were named Mr. Wong when their real family name was Lee. And I was Lucinda Wong from birth through eighth grade. Because in the late 1950s, Eisenhower changed the “paper sons and daughters,” so they could apply for naturalization with their real names. So when I was in eighth grade, my principal called me in, and she said, “Lucinda Wong, tomorrow you are going to be Lucinda Lee.”

    So I really feel that it was unusual circumstances that brought us all together — that I had Kinney Lau, that Mrs. Lau was this kind of representative, that I understood Mrs. Thompson’s shaking finger at us, “No Chinese here,” the Chinese Exclusion Act, my father’s experience coming over to this country as a “paper son.” (All of this) made me think something has to be done. 

    How did you and other teachers push for bilingual education, outside of the courts?

    I became very active, marching and speaking with parent groups and doing sort of the heavy work between 1969 and 1972. I have a photograph of me speaking before the board, speaking to parents to get them educated and riled up. 

    I think I basically said we are harming ourselves when children enter our systems and don’t have access to two languages so that they can keep moving forward. That we’re actually handicapping them by making them try to learn English only, when for two or three years, there could be a gradual transition. Secondly, I want teachers trained to understand that the brain can do two cultures, multi-languages, multicultural, and they should be trained. Three, if you have kids that have any kind of learning difference, we should know how to address that and not assume that they’re lacking in English.

    The other thing I did was, I brought Chinese culture into Jean Parker School because they didn’t celebrate Chinese New Year, Lunar New Year, nothing. And I said, “You can’t do that. Ninety percent of the kids in the school are from Chinese backgrounds, and you have to understand why they’re dressed the way they are during Lunar New Year, and that it’s a big deal. That’s our main holiday.” And the principal allowed me to have an assembly. But I didn’t tell her that I was bringing in lion dancers and drums, and it got the Chinese kids all riled up and excited.

    Do you remember where you were when you heard that the decision finally came down from the Supreme Court?

    I was at (the University of Illinois) Urbana-Champaign getting my doctorate. I was in the middle of classes and doing my dissertation. I read it in the paper. My husband said, “Look, there was a Supreme Court decision. They passed that Lau versus Nichols thing.” I said, “Yes!” Everything that was meant to be actually happened. And you know, they were celebrating like crazy here (in San Francisco.)

    But you know, there are still problems because it didn’t say how you should do it or that they would give it money. They just said, “Yeah, let’s do it.” So it’s up to every school district to do it in their own way.

    Before Lau v. Nichols, San Francisco had some bilingual education, right?

    When I went to Commodore Stockton Elementary School, I was hired as a bilingual, bicultural teacher, because San Francisco was trying something new. I applied for the job, and I was snapped up. There were three classrooms. Each of us had classroom assistants who could speak either Cantonese or English. I happened to have gone to Chinese school for 12 years. So I was Cantonese-speaking. It was also the period of school busing. So, in my first year, I had almost all Chinese kids in this bilingual, bicultural classroom. In my second year, I had kids from Noe Valley and the Mission and Hunter’s Point, who would bravely get on the bus ride for half an hour, 45 minutes to come to Commodore Stockton to be in my classroom. They were exposed to both English and Chinese.

    How did Lau v. Nichols change bilingual education in California?

    Well, what changed in San Francisco specifically was that Gordon Lew, who was the editor of a newspaper in Chinatown, started volunteering to write curriculum for the San Francisco School District in Chinese and in English. That was very amazing.

    When I went back to look at the Chinatown Community Children’s Center (a bilingual preschool where Katz had been the first director), the kids were so happy. Some were still speaking Chinese only, and many of them were speaking clearly in English and so forth, at age 3, 4 and 5. I haven’t had the chance to go into elementary schools, but both my sisters were school principals and they told me stories about how a lot of their kids could transition back and forth between English and Chinese, but likewise, Spanish, Tagalog (and other languages).

    How do you think California is doing with teaching English learners and with bilingual education?

    It’s really a little tough. There’s more curriculum and there are more people who can do it. So that’s a plus. But California really has to codify the approach as a viable program. I know you’re mostly focused on California, and the states that have the most bilingual students, or English language learners (ELL), are California, Texas, Illinois, Florida, New York. But it turns out Wyoming, Nebraska, Indiana, Kentucky and Alabama have growing populations. 

    What they don’t have is the following: They don’t have a clear identification system for who is ELL and what kind of services they need, and how that’s differentiated from a student who has learning disabilities. They can mistake an English language learner as though they are a learning-disabled student. So they need to clean that up.

    They need to provide families with what I call wraparound services so that when they come to school, they can request a translator or request somebody to help guide them through the system. They need to have an English language development program for those that are designated. I think every employee, not just English language learner teachers, should be trained in what the highlights and challenges are for an English language learner and the family that they come from. Second, you can offer bilingual (education). And then I just think that there should be a way to monitor how these programs are doing and how these kids are doing. And we don’t have a monitoring system.

    What do you think that parents and teachers and everyone can learn from the story of Lau v. Nichols?

    They should understand and know that you can be a fully high-functioning person in two languages, three languages. No more Mrs. Thompson, “No Chinese here.” That is so old school. We need to open our minds to the fact that the brain can handle many languages and many cultural shifts. 

    Two, every teacher should be trained to understand, what is ELL? Three, there would be a much better approach if the kids at age 4 or 5 actually had some kind of screening, so that you might have a kid that’s 60% fluent in English, but just needs a little more targeted (instruction), another year, maybe two years of a focused program. So assessing the kids early on would be very important.

    I think the next thing is getting the parents to understand how important these programs are. And they need to support it with their time, their volunteer time, their money, their talent, whatever they do, we need to give it complete focus.

    And the school districts need to understand that there are many gradations of bilingual-bicultural. It’s not just like one or the other. It’s very complicated. So I just think if the state and each school district could do it, we would be way better off. And California is way further ahead than most of these other places.





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  • How Covid’s mental health toll transformed California’s schools

    How Covid’s mental health toll transformed California’s schools


    Top Takeaways
    • Growing numbers of California students reported feeling hopeless in the wake of the pandemic, with 42% of juniors reporting chronic sadness in a 2019-21 state survey.
    • California has made substantial investments in its mental health infrastructure, including the $4 billion Children and Youth Behavioral Health Initiative.
    • School mental health professionals say they feel more valued as essential partners in education.

    When schools shuttered five years ago, many students like Benjamin Olaniyi turned to their phones to find connection during a profoundly unsettling and isolating time.

    “Social media made us feel more connected with the world,” said Olaniyi, who is now a junior at King/Drew Medical Magnet High School in Los Angeles.

    Benjamin Olaniyi

    The pandemic struck in the spring of his sixth grade year, causing him to miss a school camping trip he had looked forward to. He remembers a sense of unity online in those early days amid the uncertainty and fear.

    People were afraid of an unknown disease, profound isolation, economic instability and grief for family members killed by the virus.

    Young people logged on to share how they felt about what they were facing in real time: the loneliness, the hopelessness and the fear that they could lose family or friends to the strange illness.

    This exposure to frank discussion of mental health on social media “probably made us more aware of mental health struggles that previous generations wouldn’t have been exposed to,” Olaniyi said.

    The early years of the pandemic turned out to be a key moment when the conversation about students’ mental health and wellness went mainstream. And it wasn’t just students who took note that their peers were struggling with depression, anxiety and other mental health challenges in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic.

    This showed up in the pandemic era of the California Healthy Kids Survey, where more students reported that they experienced hopelessness. In data collected in 2019-21, 42% of 11th grade students reported chronic sadness, up from 32% just four years earlier.

    Dr. Ijeoma Ijeaku, president of the California Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, said that the pandemic lifted a veil on a worsening crisis among young people.

    “It has forced us to look at our mental health in a way we had never looked at it before,” Ijeaku said.

    She credits Gen Z, in particular, for their searing honesty about mental health: “They said, ‘Yes, it’s OK to not be OK.’”

    Five years after the pandemic began, experts say that the way students, educators and policymakers discuss mental health has dramatically changed and that, though there is more work to be done, policy changes and substantial state investments made in the wake of this crisis have had a lasting positive impact in schools.

    “So much of the infrastructure is really enduring past the pandemic,” said Kendra Fehrer, the founder of Heartwise Learning, who has worked as a consultant for schools and community organizations to improve mental health services for students.

    Pandemic’s unequal effects

    Medical professionals have become more vocal about the mental health crisis that children and adolescents have faced due to the pandemic — and how students living in high-poverty communities and Black and brown students have borne the brunt of the crisis.

    In 2021, a declaration from the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry and the Children’s Hospital Association said the pandemic added fuel to already rising rates of childhood mental health concerns, including suicide, noting that communities of color have been disproportionately impacted by Covid’s medical and social problems.

    The pandemic represented the “unveiling of how the status of our health is determined by our ZIP code, not our genetic code,” Ijeaku said.

    More affluent teens, who lived in houses with more space and more privacy, fared better during the pandemic, said Andrew Fuligni, co-executive director of the UCLA Center for the Developing Adolescent. These kids were more likely to live in communities where they could escape to a park to congregate safely or have reliable internet access to keep in touch virtually. 

    Conversely, teens with fewer resources tended to live in overcrowded homes where rates of Covid transmission were high. They were more likely to live with those deemed essential workers exposed to the virus and faced a more serious threat of death or serious illness, factors that take a toll on mental wellness.

    While the whole-child approach to education — championing the importance of school climate, student safety and health for learning, alongside curriculum and instruction — has been growing for decades, schools began to take mental health even more seriously, said Loretta Whitson of the California Association of School Counselors. 

    Teachers are asking for more support from counselors and other mental health professionals, Whitson said. There is a great appreciation for “the value of the work that is being done and how that complements the classroom work in developing a highly functioning adult.”

    State invests billions in mental health

    In the past, when school districts faced a budget crunch, it was typical for counselors, psychologists and social workers to be first on the chopping block.

    “The rest of education caught a cold, we caught pneumonia,” Whitson said.

    But Whitson says things are changing, thanks not just to a shift in the mindset, but also to the infrastructure, such as the Children and Youth Behavioral Health Initiative, that the state has worked on for the last few years. In 2021, the state launched the effort with $4 billion to be invested over five years, which aims to support those under age 26.

    This year, the initiative launched a fee schedule that enables mental health professionals on campus, such as school counselors, psychologists and social workers, to bill Medi-Cal and other types of insurance for the work they do on campus. 

    It can be extremely complicated to get two very different systems — education and health care — working together. Medical billing isn’t the traditional purview of education. Whitson says, however, that this is providing a real alternative to the boom and bust budget cycle that makes it hard to sustainably fund mental health professionals.

    “We’re trying to fully employ people on school campuses that are going to be focused on children’s mental and behavioral well-being,” Whitson said. “This is a big piece of that, to make sure that we have funding that sustains.”

    However, this new funding model could be undercut if Medicaid is slashed, as some fear Republicans intend.

    California has been moving in the right direction over the last decade, Whitson says, and has roughly doubled its school counselor ratio. Still, the state has a ratio of 1 counselor for about 400 students, well above the 250 students recommended by the American School Counselor Association. 

    California school districts have been laying off staff in the wake of budgets weakened by the sunsetting of Covid-era federal funding and shrinking enrollment. Whitson said the good news amid the layoffs is that job cuts are not disproportionately hitting school counselors as they did in the Great Recession in 2009.

    The state has supported bringing a broad array of health services to campuses in low-income neighborhoods through the California Community Schools Partnership Program to the tune of $4 billion. This early post-pandemic effort is continuing to grow, according to Fehrer, the founder of Heartwise Learning.

    Fehrer applauds the state’s investments but says a lot of the real work of transforming school cultures doesn’t happen in Sacramento.

    “The hardest stuff to change is stuff you can’t legislate,” she said.

    ‘Coalition of the willing’

    Fehrer said a major transformation is reshaping the way schools respond to mental health and that it transcends economic divides, and is happening in wealthy enclaves like Palo Alto and farmworker communities like Pajaro Valley. 

    Fehrer calls this a “coalition of the willing.”

    Alexis Mele, a school counselor at Laguna Beach High School, credits her school district and school board for understanding the value of school counselors, who are too often viewed as people who mostly handle academic scheduling and college planning.

    Mele calls the work she can do with a caseload of 250 students “transformative.” At the beginning of the year, Mele holds a one-on-one meeting with every single one of her freshman students with their families, deepening her relationships right from the start.

    On a recent morning, a student dropped by her office to say they were struggling. She said that’s a moment that reinforces the importance of her role.

    “That student was sitting at home this morning, waking up feeling like, ‘This isn’t going to be a good day, but I can go to the office and talk to Miss Mele and that might help.’ And that to me is everything,” Mele said.





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