It's a balmy morning in April, which to Anthony Tovar means only one
thing: crunch time. Instead of walking the halls of Sunset High School
in his usual happy-go-lucky way, greeting teenagers with a grin and
calling them by name, the principal is hunched over paperwork in his
office, his round, brown features drawn together in a brooding frown.
There are just three weeks left before the school's 2,200 students sit
down to take the fateful standardized tests that are referred to simply
and ominously as the TAKS. The names on Tovar's list belong to the 75
seniors who, having failed one or more of the exams, are about to get
one last chance to graduate with their class.
"I'm worried about this bunch. This will be their fifth or sixth
time to take the test," Tovar says. "I hate to say it, but it's going
be tough for them to pass." He shakes his head. "You call 'em in to
tell them whether they passed and they cry—either from joy or
sadness. Eighteen-year-old boys crying like babies because they passed
a test; it's a sight to see. But it breaks your heart when you have to
tell them they didn't pass...again."
Mark Graham
Mark Graham
Sunset High School Principal Anthony Tovar uses the sort of hands-on motivational methods he developed as a former coach to drive his students in academics
Glancing at his watch, Tovar snaps back into the upbeat motivational
mode instilled in him over 22 years of coaching baseball and football.
"You have to encourage them," he says. "Say, 'Look, you improved by 50
percent last time. Keep comin.'" He turns to the intercom for morning
announcements and tells the 75 seniors on the list to gather in the
auditorium. "We're down to three Saturdays left before the TAKS," he
says, his voice reverberating throughout the labyrinthine school.
"We're here for you guys. We need you to come to Saturday school and
after-school focus groups."
Moments later, the listed seniors file into rows of seats in front
of a stage framed by purple curtains. In keeping with Sunset's
demographics, all of them are Hispanic, and they hold their backpacks
and watch impassively as Tovar, in a crisp white shirt and red tie,
launches into his last-ditch pep talk. "How many of you work?" he asks.
Roughly half of the students' hands go up. "You want to keep working at
those places?" Only one hand goes up. "Your back is up against the
wall," he continues. "If you want something bad enough, you'll do it.
You'll sacrifice. You'll put your girlfriend or boyfriend or job on
hold and focus for the next three weeks."
These students' futures aren't the only thing hanging in the
balance. Their scores will help determine whether Tovar can make Sunset
the first non-magnet school in the Dallas Independent School District
to be crowned as "recognized" by the state, a coup that would build on
this year's "acceptable" rating and be especially meaningful
considering most of Oak Cliff's high schools have long been deemed
unacceptable. To be "recognized," in most cases, a school must have at
least 75 percent of its students pass the Texas Assessment of Knowledge
and Skills tests in all four areas—English/language arts, social
studies, math and science (there are other factors that can change the
75 percent requirement).
Under Tovar's leadership, in the past three years Sunset has
challenged the assumption that urban schools are doomed to languish and
fail. It has seen its TAKS scores rise and its parental involvement
skyrocket, and this year, it's being touted as the district's most
effective high school, according to the DISD rating system that gauges
how well schools perform in relation to their demographics (27 percent
of Sunset's students have limited English proficiency, 96 percent are
Hispanic and 70 percent are eligible for free or reduced lunches).
Since 2006, the number of Sunset students who passed the reading and
language arts TAKS jumped from 77 to 82 percent, the scores for social
studies rose from 89 to 91 percent, and the math and science
scores—most challenging district-wide—inched up from 53 to
57 percent and 56 to 62 percent, respectively.
"If Sunset's 'recognized,' that will blow the top off some of the
myths about urban high schools," says DISD Superintendent Michael
Hinojosa, who holds up Sunset as the embodiment of the district's
education innovations and a model for other schools. "People have low
expectations because the comprehensive schools lose top students to the
magnets, so they think they can't compete. Tony's changing that
conversation, and I'm really rooting for him to make it."
Sunset, Hinojosa says, is one of a handful of DISD campuses that
have seen leaps in performance under principals with a knack for hiring
effective teachers and administrators, inspiring people to succeed and
instituting new practices that produce results.
"It's a leadership issue," Hinojosa says, stressing that Tovar's
success can be replicated. "You have to have systems that work, but you
also have to have someone who can inspire people and rally the teachers
and the students to make things happen."
Yet Sunset's status as a bright spot in DISD is also a sobering
reminder of the district's grim realities. Just 55 percent of Sunset
students graduate in four years; only 40 percent of those who graduated
in 2006 are enrolled in higher-education, and a mere 3 percent of those
who take the SAT or ACT college entrance exams have college-ready
scores. Such statistics are like battle lines to Tovar. The son of
Mexican immigrants who married as teens and never finished high school,
the 53-year-old principal is determined to make Sunset into the sort of
school that defies its circumstances, just as his family defied
theirs.
