When teacher Tyrone Myers asks a question, he always calls on a boy to answer it. Down the hall, Shirley Bright only calls on girls. No, these teachers aren't practicing blatant discrimination. At Gesu School, an independent K-8 Catholic school in the heart of one of North Philadelphia's toughest neighborhoods, it's a way to keep the boys engaged and the girls confident. From third through fifth grade, these children will learn in boys-only and girls-only classrooms.
"Here, they get to be themselves," says Bright, whose 22 girls spend their days in a classroom filled with dressed-up teddy bears and books with strong girl characters. This year's fish-inspired theme: Dive right in to learning. Without boys in the classroom, says Bright, "they feel freer to state their opinions. We focus on things of special interest to the girls: manners and goals and careers." Down the hall, the 27 boys in Myers' class are surrounded by books on favorite topics such as space, wild animals and vehicles, posters of rocks, a schooner and even a model of a whale. "They act out more when they have a pretty young lady in the classroom," he says. "My boys are eager to learn; they have more confidence; and the majority are producing better grades."
Separating the boys from the girls is an idea that's increasingly gaining traction across the country. In 2006, the U.S. Department of Education eased regulations limiting single-gender schooling, and at least 363 public schools now offer some variation of girls-only and boys-only education. Those schools are joining the scores of independent and private schools like Gesu, which don't have federal restrictions on how they set up their classes. While the movement has some critics, proponents say single-sex classrooms nurture the different ways boys and girls think and learn. For Gesu School-which started its single gender classes back in 1994, more than a decade before the trend's current wave of popularity-the impetus was on nurturing and making an effort to defy the nature of life in the community. Studies by a Chicago researcher showed that African-American boys began turning off by 4th grade, sitting in the back of the class, not doing their homework, letting girls do all the talking-a disturbing trend Gesu was witnessing in its own classrooms. "We were losing boys," says Gesu School President Christine S. Beck. In the early ‘90s, some 8th grade graduating classes had only six boys left in them. "Even as early as 3rd and 4th grade, these young African-American boys are lured by the streets. It isn't cool to be smart." With the boys' only classes and a male teacher as a role model, "little by little," she adds, "it gets okay to be smart."
The proof?
"I can't wait ‘til we start on division," bubbles one boy in Myers' classroom as the 2007 school year begins. "I really like multiplication," another chimes in. "Where'd you get that whale from?" asks another, as they all excitedly check out their new textbooks and eye the piles of reading books stacked all around the room. "When it was mixed," Myers says, "the boys wouldn't ask as many questions. They don't want to make themselves look bad." With an often boisterous bunch, Myers rewards good behavior with weekly lotteries for such goodies as football posters and dangles the yearend giveaway of the schooner as motivation.
In his classroom, the education doesn't stop with reading, writing (they all are writing in cursive within a few weeks of school's start) and arithmetic. Myers makes a point of dressing meticulously. He teaches the boys how to talk, rather than punch, their way through disagreements. Myers even demonstrates such basic tasks as how to wash their hands properly; all part of transforming his students into, "young gentlemen." "You don't have to be someone's father or uncle to be a positive role model," says Myers, who treasures visits from former students who have gone on to high school, college and professional careers. "That brings tears of joys to my eyes," he says.
The positive effects of Gesu's single-gender classrooms extend beyond just the boys, for whom the program was intended. As it turns out, the girls in the Gesu School have reaped the benefits as well. "You wouldn't believe it, but 8-year-olds are already aware that boys don't like ‘brainiacs', the smart girls, so they already start to dumb themselves down," Bright says. Inside her classroom, her 3rd graders giggle and say emphatically "No boys!" when asked what they like about their class. Instead of seeking the attention and approval of the boys in the class, the young girls learn a self-confidence.
Successful women with interesting jobs-a scientist, a school principal, a doctor and a dancer - have visited the classroom to act as role models. "I am making them aware that they can be whoever they want to be," Bright says. The girls read books that are more specifically tailored to them (Ramona Quimby, Age 8 and The Princess School); and they have the freedom to talk about issues they might not be able to with boys in the class. "If Cinderella is going to princess school and doesn't have shoes on her feet, we can turn that into a discussion that being a princess is about more than what she wears," Bright says. In a world where, she continues, "everyone else is wearing Nikes and we wear shoes from Payless, it's about having a good heart and being kind." For rewards, Bright hands out special princess pencils and has teddy bear and hot cocoa parties.
And for Gesu School, it's about results. In a community where one out of every two children either drops out or fails to graduate on time, 95% of Gesu students-many of whom go on to academically challenging programs-graduate from high school. That's quite an achievement for any school, let alone a school that turns a blind eye to academic ability when it accepts students. Beyond the single-gender classes, the school also nurtures its students in other ways, including running a summer Young Scholars program, the recent launch of a school-wide language program aimed at countering street talk and providing such basic needs as breakfast and a place to wash dirty clothes. "These children have what it takes if they are pushed hard enough, and in the right way," Beck says.
Single-gender classes are just one way Gesu School is keeping its students engaged in learning. Below are snapshots of two of the school's other special projects:
FILM-MAKING: A Gesu donor is working with 12 students to create mini-films about what life is like for these students beyond the school doors. "There is a disconnect between our nice facilities and what these kids experience at home and on the street," says Beck. The students involved in the project are learning how to film-including what kind of shots work-and how to conduct interviews.
PUBLIC SPEAKING AND ORAL COMMUNICATIONS: Gesu launched a school-wide language program in 2007-08 aimed at teaching students, as early as pre-K, how to speak properly. The program, which includes memorizing, reciting, public speaking and debate, is expected to be a key tool in helping these children succeed. "All of our children speak street English," Beck says. "They come to Gesu and gradually learn to speak proper English. Do they do it all the time? No. But if they are going to be able to succeed in high school and life, it's something they need to learn and practice and get confidence in." The idea, she adds, "came from stepping back and looking at how we can serve our children better. It was kind of obvious."
HANDS-ON SCIENCE: Starting in pre-K, Gesu students get a chance to do hands-on science using the kinds of equipment (microscopes, test tubes, balances and more) and doing the kind of experiments (properties of water, chemical reactions) they'd normally not be able to do until high school. "The students are so excited about science, it's unbelievable," says school spokesperson Karen Witiw of the new LabLearner program.
