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Sunday, May 19 School operates in academic ambiguity By Tom Farrey ESPN.com |
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The letter came from the highest corridors of power, the U.S. Senate office of the now-retired Daniel Patrick Moynihan, who was requesting the review of an attached note that had been sent to him from constituents identifying themselves only as "Outraged Parents of Students Attending Christopher Robin."
"I would appreciate your careful consideration of these remarks, and your thoughts on what remedies there may be for this situation," Moynihan wrote in October 1991 to the commissioner of the New York State Department of Education, Thomas Sobol. The events that ensued offer a lesson on the limited power that state and local governments sometimes have over private schools -- and the hazards of trusting those bodies to eliminate high schools with questionable practices, as the NCAA does. Trust is at the heart of the NCAA's requirement that athletes pass a minimum of 13 classes in core academic subjects in order to qualify to play college sports. While the NCAA has rejected transcripts of foreign athletes based on the lack of faith in the legitimacy of certain schools, no such scrutiny exists for domestic high schools. The NCAA will accept its credits from any U.S. high school, said Diane Dickman, NCAA director of membership services.
In New York, that job falls to the state department of education. That's why Moynihan wrote to the department with his concerns about Christopher Robin. Immediately, then-associate commissioner Tom Hogan found problems, according to correspondence ESPN.com acquired through a public-records request. On the school stationary that the outraged parents had forwarded to Moynihan, Christopher Robin described itself as "Accredited by the New York State Education Dept." In fact, the state's education department does not formally accredit any school. That function falls to outside educational bodies that are paid to perform in-depth evaluations of teacher credentials, the curriculum and other aspects of the school to determine if they meet commonly accepted standards. So Hogan ordered Christopher Robin principal Robert Donus to change the stationery to say only that the school is "registered" with the education department. "Registration and accreditation are not the same kind of concepts at all," said Don Petry, executive director of the National Council for Private School Accreditation. "Registration is nothing more than a requirement in many states that the school exists. Accreditation actually proves that the school is credible." At the time, Hogan also ordered the school to delete references on school stationery and its brochure to an alleged six-member "Board of Trustees." Hogan wrote, "The legal opinion I received is that this may be misleading to the public, i.e., while it initially appears that the school is controlled by a board of trustees to whom a parent might appeal a decision by or policy of the principal, it turns out that the principal (you) are also the owner." Despite those red flags, Hogan informed Donus in the same letter that the state was closing its inquiry with no further investigation. Donus had satisfied the state's concerns with a phone conversation with Hogan, and by submitting limited information about the school in a letter. "To say that the attacker's anonymous letter was a slanderous, unjust amalgam of gross hyperbole and blatant fabrication would be a considerable understatement," Donus wrote in his rebuttal to the allegations 10 years ago. That was the last time the state investigated the school, according to education department files. If any official had made a site visit, some former teachers say, the state might have learned that many of the allegations in the anonymous letter were true. Under Donus, "It was just about how much money can I suck out of this thing and how little do I have to put in," said Ann Berliant, a teacher at the school from 1989-93. "He didn't care one bit about the kids." In correspondence with the state, Donus identified Berliant, who taught elementary-school age kids, as the school's "computer chairperson and consultant." She laughs at that notion. "I knew how to turn it on," she said. On the school's stationery that went out to the public, the headmaster was identified as Harrison Stafford. But Berliant and two other teachers from that era say they believe that either no such person existed or he never came around the small school, which at the time had 130 students. Hogan also had wanted to know whether Christopher Robin was in compliance with fire codes. Donus wrote that the school had been "recently inspected," making no mention of any violations. It's unclear whether he knew of any. But a week earlier, on Jan. 16, 1992, the school was cited for blocked exits, a misdemeanor that would merit a $500 fine, according to fire department records. Located on a busy, commercial boulevard on the far eastern end of Queens, the school exhibits signs of wear following years of deferred maintenance. Players have expressed shock at the dingy, industrial exterior of the building. Inside, the international-themed main hallway is lined with miniature flagpoles and the names of countries that have been displayed -- but not updated -- for decades. Many of the countries, such as the former African nation of Dahomey, no longer exist. It has been known as Benin since 1975. Berliant and other former teachers say that Donus put so little money into the school, they often paid for students' books or materials out of their own pockets. Donus conceded to the state in 1992 that the science lab was unequipped, and acknowledged that the microscopes and other equipment were supplied by teachers and students. Not all teachers say they were bothered about the resources they were given. "He runs the school in a decent manner," said Priscilla Berg, a teacher of first- and second-graders who has been with the school for 14 years. "I have plenty of books -- more books than the public schools have. He gives the teachers whatever they need." Former teachers, though, say their energies were stretched thin. Donus asks them to teach more than one grade at once in the same classroom.
"If the state would have come in, I would have told them everything," said Lindsley, who also taught courses in social studies, a subject area in which he was certified. "I can't believe the board of regents hasn't shut down that school yet." In fact, the education department and its regents could not punish Christopher Robin even if they found massive problems, said Hogan, now the state supervisor for Non-Public Schools. He said other private schools with suspect practices have challenged state authority in the past decade, and succeeded -- to his frustration. Hogan said the NCAA is mistaken if it thinks the state of New York has any real power over Christopher Robin Academy. "There's nothing that's going to come from the state," Hogan said. "If the NCAA has concerns (about Christopher Robin), they're going to have to address those on their own because the established mechanisms aren't going to." Donus said regulation of his school by any outside body is unnecessary.
One educational body that has taken action against Christopher Robin is the Queens public high school district. Bothered by the lack of certified teachers and classroom time that students had to put in to earn credits at Christopher Robin, the district decided in the early 1990s to stop accepting transfer credits from the private school, said Catie Marshall, spokesman for the New York City Board of Education. That ban since has been lifted, or simply forgotten. Donus said many of his part-time students, including basketball players, are from local public schools in which the guidance counselor has allowed them to take Christopher Robin classes for credit. Marshall said she is uncertain when or why the board policy may have changed, but that "very limited use" of Christopher Robin is less of a concern now because students need to pass an increasingly rigorous set of standardized, state tests to graduate from high school. "If Christopher Robin is not helping kids get up to speed to pass these exams, then going there is a waste of time and money," Marshall said. Not for basketball players in search of NCAA eligibility. For them, the rules have not changed. Grades and core credits still mean access to an athletic scholarship. Tom Farrey is a senior writer with ESPN.com. He can be reached at tom.farrey@espn.com. |
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