The black preacher at Morning Star Baptist Missionary Church believes LAUSD systematically dumbs down curriculum in Watts because it's easier on teachers than pushing age-appropriate lessons. The grade-schoolers are bright and speak English but, like many inner-city kids, they suffer from thin vocabularies compared with suburban kids. The unhappy result, she says, is that the advanced children languish and those who need extra help get left far behind.
Pastor Clark, like her weathered adobe house, is gnarled and bent and welcoming. Her half-cemented front yard in Watts is a gathering center, strewn with a sofa or two and a huge, Southern-style barbecue. Her eyes are young, glinting with interest.
A teacher's assistant at LAUSD for 26 years, she says, "I know how the school district works, and I don't mind telling them. I know what is. A lot of parents at Weigand and here in Watts probably don't understand — yet. But once you understand it, you know when something's moving — and when it's not."
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
Llury Garcia and her daughter: "People said, 'Llury, you are crazy, nobody can fight the powerful people at the schools.' "
PHOTO BY ANNE FISHBEIN
Gloria Aroche and her daughter: "The day an African-American parent left school in tears, I didn't want to but I had to get involved."
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Cobian's arrival set off a stream of teacher departures and increasingly ugly disputes. One was with Jessica Medina, a young mother with the name Adamaris tattooed in feminine script across her chest. Medina lives with two young nephews and two children of her own in a colorful, fern-planted, Watts bungalow that can't be more than 16 feet wide.
Medina's third-grade son can't speak very well, so she approached Cobian for help applying for special education. After frustrating talks with the reluctant Cobian, Medina turned to a social worker to act as go-between. Eventually, Medina says, "I found a program at Kaiser Permanente because LAUSD would not teach my son. The principal said he didn't need [special ed] and could learn on a computer! So now he goes to an off-school nonprofit that teaches him math. I'm grateful. But math from Kaiser Permanente!"
Several mothers who sought special ed help were similarly angry, even as other controversies were coming to a boil: Cobian was fighting with a preschool teacher over petty rules regarding Halloween and other celebrations. Preschool parents had planned to buy tiny "culmination" caps and gowns for a winter 2011 ceremony, and were furious when Cobian invoked an LAUSD rule that bars these outfits except in high school. That didn't go over big in Watts. Meanwhile, some well-liked teachers were beginning to bail out.
Pro- and anti-Cobian camps formed, and in June 2011, about 70 parents and teachers turned in a scraggly petition demanding that LAUSD remove her. District officials interceded, and an uneasy peace settled in. Several parents transferred their children away — and more teachers left.
At first, Llury Garcia didn't understand what the hubbub was all about. The pretty 30-year-old has her own problems: She suffers from lupus and congestive heart failure and has had two strokes. She's sharp and well-spoken, but her own schooling was a travelogue of LAUSD disasters: Miramonte, Ascot Avenue and Parmalee Avenue elementary schools; Thomas Edison Middle School; Fremont High School.
"I started going gang in school," Garcia says, "because I thought I'd get more support from my friends than from the grown-ups." Her eyes fill with tears, and she shakes them off. "I know what it's like when the teacher asks you to read something and you cannot do it. I went to the L.A. Job Corps Center and couldn't qualify for my GED. I couldn't learn. I just gave up."
But when Parent Revolution arrived in Watts in 2012, Flores saw in Garcia a good brain dying to learn, like a lot of kids he knew in LAUSD and in the Army. She was already on a Weigand committee, trying to help at the school. When Garcia volunteered to contact parents about Parent Trigger, Flores warned her, "'You need to understand, the other side will attack you personally.' " Still, Garcia told Flores and Alvarado: "I'd like to be the parent representative here."
"Before, I wouldn't step up as a mom," Garcia says. "I was so shy." She adds, "I have changed so much. Now I believe I can do anything. ... This is the best thing I have ever done in my life. Now I'm not quiet. Now I talk, talk, talk. "
The law requires that 50 percent of parents sign a petition in order to take action. The parents opted for the most modest reform. They could have chosen to fire everyone, as occurred at 24th Street Elementary School this year, or they could have awarded Weigand to a charter operator or other group with a good plan for turning Weigand around. Instead, they simply asked LAUSD to fire the principal.
On April 2, the parents turned in enough signatures to LAUSD to do just that.
Irma Cobian had been a successful lawyer but walked away more than 20 years ago to be an educator. She's plainspoken, with a wide, friendly face that's easy to like. Near the end of the school year, weeks after the Weigand parents turned in signatures to have her removed, she robustly strides around the campus in flip-flops and a dark blue polo shirt with "Weigand" embroidered across it, still talking about her ideas on how to improve education.