Cover
story St.
Frances Academy
By RETTA BLANEY
Special to the National Catholic
Reporter Baltimore
In the 1820s, Elizabeth Lange, a
Haitian woman who had settled in Baltimore, began teaching the children of
slaves to read the Bible, something that was against the law in Maryland, a
slave state. In 1828, she formalized that effort by establishing St. Frances
Academy. Challenging the odds even more the next year, she and three other
women founded the Oblate Sisters of Providence, now the oldest African-American
order in the church.
The spiritual descendants of Mother Lange continue to defy
expectation as they prove in many ways that children of hardship can succeed
beautifully if someone will only give them a chance.
That chance is still given at St. Frances Academy, now a co-ed
high school in inner-city Baltimore, run by the Oblate Sisters. Its history is
celebrated on walls throughout the building, showing decades of former students
and sisters, and documents like the 1829 Prospectus of the School for
Colored Girls and an 1884 article from the New York Sun about
The Colored Nuns of Baltimore.
The present-day reality of this school is that it is in a ghetto
-- considered one of the most dangerous areas in Baltimore -- surrounded by
small two-story row houses, many of which are boarded up and scarred by
graffiti. The Maryland Penitentiary looms one block away, and the city jail and
two new high-security prisons are nearby. Among the 280 students are children
from the neighborhood where the drop-out rate is more than 60 percent by 9th
grade, rejects from public schools and young people from nontraditional homes.
Seventy-five percent are from single-parent homes; of those, 25 percent
dont live with a biological parent. Forty percent receive financial aid
for the $3,750 tuition.
But the other part of the current reality of St. Frances Academy,
the countrys oldest African-American Catholic high school, is that 95
percent of its graduates go to college -- the majority being the first in their
families to even apply -- because they are encountering more than academics in
this old, red brick, Federal-style schoolhouse. They are encountering, often
for the first time, a sense of family and a sense of standards.
What we do is try to teach kids to do the right thing,
said the schools principal, Oblate Sr. John Francis Schilling.
Its all about the gospel. Thats all we do.
One of its dominating gospel values is the sense of community. The
word family is heard over and over in describing life at St. Frances, by
administrators, faculty and students. With that sense of family comes
responsibility, which works both ways here -- students measuring up to
standards and faculty members going out of their way to see that they do. If
students dont live up to expectations, someone will get in their
face until they do, Schilling said. We try to give kids the ability
to know who they are and give them something to reach for.
That personal involvement lifted senior Angel Spruill onto the
honor roll after her precalculus teacher, Marvin Addison, met her at 7 a.m.
every morning for tutoring. He lives in this building, Spruill
said, exaggerating a bit in her admiration. The teachers really put forth
the effort if you are willing.
And students must be willing or they wont get into St.
Frances in the first place. Schilling interviews every perspective student to
make sure its the student, and not the parents, choosing this school.
It takes up a lot of time, but I cant let that go. I find out so
much about their dynamics.
Holding students accountable
She also can hold students accountable if they mess up.
I say, Your parents didnt make that decision.
You did. I dont want a bunch of kids in school who hate it. I want
it to be a place where theyre loved and cared for. I dont want it
to be a place like a jail.
The success stories of this method of administration are many, but
few are as moving as that of Kevin Smith, a boy who, after he had stopped
selling drugs, was thrown out of his familys home because he was no
longer bringing in money. He was 18, living in a neighborhood playground with
only one pair of pants to his name and not a single high school credit.
A former St. Frances basketball coach took him into his home, and
Schilling took him into the school. Smith, who was unable to meet the academic
standards of St. Frances but eventually received a general equivalency diploma
and was accepted at a junior college, said he would have been dead or in jail
if it hadnt been for the academy. He found love in the St. Frances
family, a love that carried on after he was killed in a car accident in his
freshman year at college. A scholarship was set up in his name, and development
director Tom Nealis went to New York this past November to run the marathon in
Smiths honor.
Its hard to separate my St. Frances life from the rest
of my life, Nealis said. Thats the way its ingrained in
the faculty and staff here. I was really shaken up and I wanted to do something
to honor him, to somehow mark his memory.
That depth of love is at the core of the academy, which sees its
mission as broader than being just a Catholic high school. Only 20 percent of
its students are Catholic anyway, although all must participate in liturgies
and prayer services. The schools mission is also to be an anchor in the
community through a tutoring program in which students assist public school
children in the neighborhood and act as mentors for them, to provide services
for senior citizens and to maintain a creative partnership with the
penitentiary, which includes the schools sharing its parking lot and the
prisons increasing its patrol area for the school.
Faith in themselves and a
future
Theres nothing here but prisons and images of
despair, Schilling said. You have to embrace whatever is
there.
Maryland Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend has worked to solidify
the prison partnership. Rather than look askance at each other, they see
theyre really connected, Townsend said, adding that many of the
students have family members in jail, so they havent viewed it as a
friendly neighbor. It gives a human face to everybody. Corrections
officers are human, just as prisoners have families.
Townsend got involved after she visited the school and saw the
transformation taking place in students lives. It takes kids from
tough homes who would have little home and gives them faith in themselves and a
future.
Furthering the academys partnership with the neighborhood is
Patrick Lee, a graduate who is now the schools community organizer. Lee
grew up in a now boarded-up house nearby. After he graduated in 1998 from
Salisbury State University in Salisbury, Md., with a degree in social work, he
returned to the tough streets of his youth wearing his cap and gown to greet
neighbors. Now he works full-time building bridges between the two worlds he
knows, St. Frances and the streets of East Baltimore, with his salary being
paid through a grant obtained by the school.
Lees work is only the latest example of the schools
presence in the community. The eight Oblate Sisters, all of whom are
African-American except Schilling, moved their convent from inside the school
in 1974 to a 14-room convent created by combining six row houses on the street
next to the school. Living with the people, and not removed from them, is
important, said Oblate Sr. Brenda Motte, who organizes tutoring, plans
activities for the grandmothers and arranges for the prison guards to escort
neighborhood children on outings.
Our presence has meant a lot to people, she said.
Its like God is here.
Embracing the community is what St. Frances wants to do in an even
bigger way as part of its current $10 million capital campaign. Not only are
the schools needs being addressed through the addition of a gym, improved
library, tuition support and better faculty salaries, but the neighborhood will
share as well because the proposed gym will double as a community center.
The reason St. Frances Academy is so successful in its missions of
education and outreach is because of the sisters, said Christian Br. Edward
Gallagher, a principal for three years who now teaches math part-time and helps
out in the office. Its the tradition they have, the respect with
which theyre held in the African-American community.
Gallagher also has been active in the community, taking
neighborhood children on field trips and helping to clean up the area.
They used to call me the rat man. I was an expert at killing
rats.
Besides education and outreach, St. Frances has one other area of
little-engine-that-could success -- its basketball team, formed nine years ago.
With no school gym, players have to practice at donated space, upon
availability, at a recreation center eight blocks away. Not only is this a
major inconvenience, but it also means they never have a home-court advantage.
Every game is an away game for the Panthers, who have still managed to win five
Catholic league championships, a few national rankings, develop a couple of
All-American players, become Baltimores top-ranked team in 1996 and send
students to Division I colleges.
Its symbolic of how these students overcome
obstacles, Nealis said.
Since many of these students, athletes and non-athletes, have
numerous obstacles to overcome, the school offers weekly therapy; more than 100
are now taking part. Nine counselors help students deal with a range of issues,
mostly involving questions of identity and family problems. Benedictine Sr.
Elaine Bain, who runs the counseling program, said students often want to know
how they can be different from family members, who may be selling drugs or in
jail, and how they can make something of themselves.
The curriculum supports the counseling efforts with
gender-specific courses like Sisters, which deals with relationships, hygiene
and self-esteem, and a similar offering, Boys to Men. And as far as identity
goes, just so students can look at discrimination from another perspective, the
curriculum features required Jewish studies classes.
Stay focused
All of this learning, outreach and basketball are grounded firmly
in faith, a faith that is professed daily in homeroom prayers, prayers at the
start of classes, holy day Masses and special prayer services. Just before
school dismissed for Thanksgiving break, the entire student body and faculty
gathered in the chapel to give thanks as the family they have become.
Stay focused and stay on track, assistant principal
Freddie Lee advised at the start of the service. We are all truly
blessed. Let us never lose sight of that.
Then the gospel choir took its place and began swaying before the
altar. Lord, we give you thanks, they started out softly, before
building. We lift our voices -- and they did -- to thank you
for your goodness and your mercy toward us.
Students presented offerings, among them a kente cloth,
to remind us of our heritage, and incense, to remind us this
is a holy place.
A reading from Colossians followed. Then students shared stories
for which they gave thanks and told the audience, Let us stand and thank
God for what God has done for us, for which God received a standing
ovation.
Academic awards for the first quarter were announced. Schilling
gave the closing remarks, telling students they all had been given gifts,
although they might not yet know what they are. Our goal is to get to our
final reward. Be thankful God gave you these gifts, whatever they are, and use
them to help others. Thats what Thanksgiving is about.
She encouraged them to think about who they are and quoted
Socrates that an unexamined life is not worth living.
As for the daunting task of raising $5 million in a four- month
campaign to break ground for the new gym/community center in March, she told
the students they are the reason potential donors will want to help.
Youre the story. Theyll see you and realize this is a good
thing. Nothing is impossible.
Closing prayers included a request for Mother Lange to pray for
them. Then the gospel choir took its place again and belted out You Ought
to Been There, which brought nearly every girl and even some of the boys
to their feet, clapping, swaying and singing along.
And so Mother Langes legacy flourishes. Not far from all
this praise and thanks, the bedroom where she died is quietly preserved -- a
single white iron bed, with a chamber pot underneath, Victorian washstand
nearby and a crucifix on the wall. At the other side of her room, a window
looks into a computer lab.
As Schilling said, its all about the gospel. A school
founded on one womans courage to teach the Bible has given way to a
modern day institution abounding in achievement and, there to celebrate it all,
a chapel full of students singing the gospel praise.
Retta Blaney, an arts and religion writer, is editor of the
anthology Journalism Stories from the Real World (North American
Press).
National Catholic Reporter, January 14,
2000
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