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The class openly rebelled under the substitutes. Students wandered in and out of the classroom, knocked the clock off the wall, and swore at the substitutes. One sub tried to teach the class, but only three students seemed to pay attention. He eventually gave up after the fourth problem because he couldn't figure out the basic algebra equation.
"You guys are falling behind and you're not going to pass this class," the sub warned when the class began acting out.
"It's they fault we falling behind if they can't get no teacher," one student shot back tartly.
Alondra's fourth-period media arts class is a shiny oasis in a desert of shabby, outdated classrooms at Balboa High. During the class, Alondra uses a lab on the first floor arrayed with more than 20 gleaming iMacs and state-of-the-art video equipment. She spends her class time drawing the storyboard for her autobiography, and by the end of the year she will have created and edited a digital video about her life.
Yet even this impressive facility tells a lot about Balboa High. The lab wasn't paid for with school or district funds. Media arts teacher George Lee spent a year reviving an existing grant proposal to the California Department of Education, asking for money to pay for the computer and video equipment, field trips, and extended staff hours. He has also worked overtime to solicit other donations from private media organizations.
Similarly, Balboa's environmental science program, spearheaded by a few teachers in a variety of academic subjects, secured $200,000 in private grants this year so that students could go on a number of camping field trips.
It is a fact of life at Balboa that teachers often must be not just educators but fund-raisers and grant writers, taking valuable energy away from their primary job.
"It really is up to the individual," Lee says. "When you're working in a low-performing school, you need to be really resourceful for your students. If you want something to happen, you have to do it on your own."
Some teachers, like Robert Tynes, are resourceful in different ways. A music teacher, Tynes says he is always on the lookout for discarded buckets so he can convert them into drum sets for his students. Many teachers at the school have refurbished their classrooms on their own, spending their own money and knowingly violating labor union rules by painting over ugly, peeling wallpaper themselves.
Such creative solutions are necessary these days in part because of the growth of "categorical funding" (see "Why Can't Balboa Make the Grade?"), in which state money is dispersed to school districts already earmarked for specific programs, rather than as discretionary funds that allow schools to decide for themselves what their priorities are. Schools must therefore try to fill in the gaps on their own.
Balboa's administrators, too, have dedicated countless extra hours to writing funding proposals for Balboa. Assistant Principal Gilbert Chung spent several hours every Wednesday for six months with staff members writing a one-time grant proposal for schools with poor reading skills. Another assistant principal, Ted Barone, spent more than 30 hours applying for a state "small learning communities" grant to give students more specialized attention at Balboa.
Proudly, Lee says that even though Balboa needs new desks and chairs, it still has the best computer lab in the school district. "My class is really a bright spot, isn't it?" Lee muses. "God, I worked so hard to build that program."
The fifth-period bell rings and Alondra settles into her wooden desk in Room 306, Steven Brady's European literature class.
Brady is undisputedly Balboa's most popular teacher. School Dean Roni Howard says the fact that students beg to get into his classes on European lit is a testament to Brady's magical teaching powers.
Brady has a booming voice and a commanding presence in the classroom. He is firm but understanding. Brady believes he succeeds in engaging his students intellectually because he accommodates the breadth of skill levels in a single class, which ranges from the extremely bright Alondras to special education students.
But the varying skill levels of his students is only one part of the Balboa puzzle, Brady says.
The ACLU lawsuit focuses on school facilities and supplies, but many teachers at Balboa say the school's issues go far deeper. The quality of education is also affected by a host of social issues, including poverty and the students' home life, that find their way onto campus.
"I am asked to be a parent, extended family member, counselor, big brother, and instructor," Brady says of teaching at Balboa. "With these kids, if we could have more teachers with smaller classes, we could do a lot more for them."
Smaller classes has been the mantra of teachers throughout the school because they say teaching at Balboa means juggling a lesson plan with impromptu counseling and disciplining.
But small class sizes are not a reality. Brady's fifth-period class bounces between 30 and 35 students, depending on who shows up for school, and on this morning he has to raise his voice to quiet the unwieldy class.
"I'm waiting ...," Brady calls out. "Still waiting ...."
Once the students settle down, Brady tells them to write a paragraph about their most powerful attribute.
Alondra begins to write thoughtfully. The classroom becomes quiet, if only momentarily.
After a few minutes, Brady asks for volunteers to read their paragraphs aloud. Alondra's hand shoots up. Brady gives her a nod.
"My strongest characteristic is not a characteristic -- it's a fact," Alondra says, reading confidently from her paper. "It's a fact that I am my mother's child, and I have inherited a sense of motivation from her. Whenever I think I can't do something, I think of my mom. I am glad I have inherited motivation from my mom because now I can do anything."
