Aretha Franklin, Queen of Soul

Aretha and I have a relationship. She has been there for me, been there with me, for my entire life. I loved Aretha, but not in a romantic way.

Aretha had an uncanny physical resemblance to my sister, which made it impossible for me to think of her in sexual terms. I reserved those feelings for her sister Carolyn, who sang back-up for her. What I loved about Aretha was her style, her playfulness, her sense of humor. I loved her songs, and the way she sang them. But more than anything else, I loved her voice, that amazing, powerful, beautiful sound that she created from within. Nobody. Nobody could sing like Aretha.

I was not surprised when I heard that Aretha died today. It was common knowledge that her condition was grave, her family was present, and her death was imminent. I thought I was prepared for it. But when I saw her standing on the portico of the nation’s Capital, dressed like my mother dressed on Sunday mornings, singing “My Country Tis of Thee” as only she could and would, my heart began to ache. As I saw President Obama sitting behind her waiting to be sworn in as President of the United States, and the incredible throng of people crowded into the National Mall for as far as the eye could see, I could feel my emotions as they rose from the pit of my stomach, rising inexorably through my chest, my throat, searching for an outlet through my quickly moistening eyes. I knew what would happen next, but I did not want to cry, so I quickly turned the television off.

I knew that there were other ways to remember Aretha, so I reached for my phone and went straight to the playlist called simply “Aretha”. That playlist has 28 of my all-time favorite Aretha Franklin songs, and I turned it on… loud, clear, and strong. The first song to play was “Dr. Feelgood”, and my God, she sounded so good.

As I sat and listened, it felt as if I was experiencing a mosaic of my life. “Ain’t No Way” recalled a love affair gone wrong. I remembered walking to the record store after saving my lunch money for a week, so I could buy “Chain of Fools” for 98 cents. “Rock Steady” brought back the parties. “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman” reminded me of Carole King, my friends in the Marine Corps, and my realization that white people could write beautiful, soulful songs too. “Until You Come Back to Me” made me think of Stevie Wonder. “If Ever a Love There Was” made me think of Levi Stubbs, the late, great lead singer for the Four Tops. This was the first duet that I heard Aretha do, and it is filled with the love and admiration they had for each other. “Oh, Me Oh My (I’m A Fool For You)” … took me back to college at Auburn. “Bridge Over Troubled Water”, “Call Me”, “Day Dreaming”. The songs and the memories just kept coming. For a while, it was comforting. There were times when I found myself smiling. My thoughts were almost centered on how fortunate I was to have shared this life with such a prodigious talent.

But then I heard Aretha say;

“I got a call the other day
It was my sister, Carolyn, sayin
Aretha, come by when you can
I've got somethin' that I want to say
And when I got there she said
You know rather than go through a long drawn out thing,
I think the melody on the box, will help me explain”

The song is called “Angel”. Out of all the Aretha Franklin songs that I love so much, this one is my favorite.

As Aretha began to sing;

“Gotta find me an angel, to fly away with me …”

The emotion came flooding back. I stopped thinking about my life and started thinking about hers. I started to wonder about the joy and pain that all of us endure. I thought about her family, her allegiance to the church, and wondered if she found comfort there. I remembered her triumphs, and the countless awards and accolades she received during her life. I thought about the relentless scourge we call pancreatic cancer and wondered how the knowledge of what she would be forced to endure affected her mentally.

I will never know the answer to any of these things, but I do pray that Aretha found peace and happiness then, as I am sure she has found those things now. I feel this way because I love her. And love, is when the happiness of another, is essential to your own.

Aretha made my life better. Aretha made the world better.

Her job is done. May God Bless her forever.

Still Waiting for Superman

Last weekend I was a passenger in my car as my daughter drove me and her dog, Langston, back to her apartment in New York. I was reading the Washington Post when I noticed a story about the graduation rate at Duval High School, a school in Prince George’s County, Maryland.The same County and school system that I spent my entire seventeen-year education career in. I am very familiar with Duval. Its demographics are very similar to the school I spent nine years in as Principal. I know some of the people on the staff. Immediately, I knew that this story would be personal.

I began to reminisce when the story began by recounting a visit the school got from central office staff to inform them that the school had a new goal: a graduation rate of 95.4%. I know from my own experience that to achieve a number like that in a public school like Duval is possible only if you cheat. I know this because it would not have been possible in my school either. Two-thirds of my students were living in poverty, so were Duval’s. That fact is manifested in many ways. Chances are, at least fifty percent of the freshmen that arrive at Duval are two or more years below grade level in reading, and three or more years below grade level in math. Just like mine were. According to the article, only 8 percent of Duval’s students were proficient in Algebra 1 and 23 percent were proficient in English. By the time I retired, our students were scoring at more than 80% proficiency in both subjects, and we struggled mightily to maintain a graduation rate above 80%. There is no way in Hell that Duval could achieve a graduation rate of 92.3%. It is very likely that they lost at least 20% of those kids in their freshman year by either academic failure or dropping out.

As I continued to read the article, I began to get angrier as I learned that administrators and staff responded to the pressure and made their goals. The Superintendent “paraded through high schools with banners and pompoms, in a New Orleans-style dance line.” He would soon sign a new four-year contract.

So how did this “miracle” happen? Was it some world-changing pedagogical breakthrough? A sociological discovery that solved the riddle of cyclical poverty and eliminated the destructive effects of institutional racism? Maybe even a groundbreaking method for mass motivation of adolescents? Well… No. Apparently, you can get a 90% graduation rate if you change enough grades, dumb-down enough “credit recovery” packets, and falsify enough Community Service hours.

Why? Why do good people do stuff like this? It doesn’t benefit the students. Education is preparation. An unearned diploma is meaningless. If you go to college and you can’t read, write, think, or count, you will fail. If you get a job and can’t do the work, you get fired. It is educational malpractice to send a young person out into this world unprepared. It doesn’t benefit the administrators and the staff at the school either. According to the Post, Duval had three counselors fired, an assistant principal resigned, and the principal retired. So why do people do it? Fear. Fear of a poor appraisal. Fear of getting fired. The ultimate irony is if you end up as a scapegoat, you get fired anyway.

But Duval was not alone. There were other high schools in the county that used similar tactics, got similar results, and staged similar celebrations. The State of Maryland investigated the entire school system. Prince George’s County’s position was that no one from the central office ordered wrongdoing. The investigation ordered by the state did not find any evidence of wrongdoing by the Superintendent or his lieutenants.

When I finished reading the story I started to discuss it with my daughter. I told her how often people from the central office would come to my school with directives that I knew were often impossible or potentially disruptive. There were times when their directives would be counter to goals and objectives that had been mutually agreed on by all the school’s stakeholders from the beginning of the year. I knew that as Principal, I would be ultimately responsible for everything that happened in that building. For that reason, there were “directives” received from the central office that were simply ignored. If I knew they were wrong, or not in the best interests of my staff and students, I simply didn’t do it.

I also told my daughter that I never considered any “promotion” to a central office position. I had no dreams of being “director” of anything and I certainly had no desire to be a Superintendent. When she asked me why I felt that way I told her that I believed that as soon as you left the school building your job was more about politics than education.

There is a great misconception in America that in order to fix a school system you need a “great Superintendent”. Superman. News Flash… Superintendents cannot fix schools. Superintendents are politicians, not educators. Principals and teachers and counselors and parents fix schools.

The best Superintendent I ever had understood this. During my nine years as a Principal I had seven Superintendents. This one was different. We (high school principals) had monthly meetings with him alone, there were no other people in the room. We sat in a squared circle. He had hand-picked most of us, and during those meetings he simply asked us what we needed, what our problems and issues were. He listened, took his own notes. All my issues were resolved in 24 hours. He did not give us ridiculous goals and mandates. He understood his role was to pick the best people to run his schools, make sure we had the resources we needed, make sure we had the support we needed, make sure we were accountable for results, and stay out of the way.

I’m glad my daughter was with me when I read that article in The Washington Post. It made me angry, it made me sad, and I needed to vent. She knows me, understands me, and listens well. What happened at Duval High School is happening all over the country, and its wrong. Unfortunately, it will continue, as long as the powers that be are… still waiting for Superman.