LAUSD Board President Sparring With Superintendent John Deasy

LAUSD Board President Richard Vladovic

Despite Some Ugly Allegations, Los Angeles Unified School District Board President Richard Vladovic  Still Hangs In There And It's A Good Thing As The Board Appears To Move Away From Only Trumpeting Test Scores

By Diana L. Chapman

LAUSD Superintendent John Deasy

The reporter called to ask what I had to say about Los Angeles School Board President Richard Vladovic and the recent allegations that he yells at people, has been accused of sexual harassment and is overall a big bully, according to a report released from the district and other sources.

It took me two seconds to assess this having volunteered for the district for years: "I have met few people who care more about students than this man," I told the reporter.

"Yeah, everyone says that," the reporter said, sounding deeply bored by my thoughts -- which in fact were very unexciting and did not appear in the article.

All of these allegations  leaves me with much food for thought, more than anything, about the timing of  these implications and the more than strained relationship between Vladovic and Los Angeles School Superintendent John Deasy. Last week, LAUSD released a report filled with allegations that Vladovic allegedly sexually harassed an employee more than a decade ago and had berated two employees and further retaliated with snubs more recently. Vladovic was cleared in an investigation that he improperly handled molestation allegations against a teacher at George De La Torre Jr. Elementary School  in Wilmington.

Vladovic, 68, has spent more than half his life in education mostly in Los Angeles Unified from starting out as a middle school teacher, to managing gifted programs district wide to holding principalships at three inner city high schools. He retired as a senior administrator, but  later rose as a board member in 2007 to head  up the southern region of the district, which has scores of Harbor area and south Los Angeles campuses. He admitted publicly in a released statement that he had lost his temper and would seek professional  guidance to help  him control it. He also denied having sexually harassed or overly abusing anyone.

 "I violated the district's civility police along with the board's policy, and for that I'm truly sorry," he said in the statement.  "I also apologize to any employee who has felt intimidated because of my actions. In my capacity to serve the district I admit to having crossed the line and I intend to never do so again."

I am happy Vladovic clearly admitted that he needed counseling and took ownership of his actions. The trouble I am having is why are these allegations flying out wildly now?  Why now is an employee  reporting sexual abuse more than a decade later? It seems that will be difficult to prove at this late date. It's also gives me  the read between the lines feeling.  

The crux of it might be this: It's no secret that Los Angeles Superintendent John Deasy and Vladovic  have been at odds for a while now, especially after Vladovic realized what a mistake he had made initially joining former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa in heading up many actions in the school district, including allowing the mayor to  take over some schools. Two years ago, Deasy came in riding the same ticket siding with the mayor about the takeover. Most of the board, was on board, including Vladovic until things began to crumble. The mayor took over several schools, but had no more success than LAUSD had handling  them and Deasy and his support staff were so focused on raising test scores in the flailing district that they forgot about one thing -- looking at the whole student.

That pains me greatly as I see much more in the kids I work with beyond their test scores. I see intelligence. I see creativity. I see students who need guidance to determine how to define and refine their attributes for their futures. The whole test score thing shoved that and all the poor performing students into a muddy bucket, making them feel stupid and worthless when they do poorly  -- even for some good students.

"I have fifty reasons why I hate it (the California Standardized Test)," wrote student Cicely Arana, a 13-year-old middle school student. "I hate it, but I'm only telling you five.  One, I hate how many questions we have. Two, the teachers and staff put pressure on you, making you stressed and making you do badly. Three, it's not even fair how they determine if you are smart or not by your scores. If they didn't make such a big deal of it, we would do better. Four, I hate how right after the CST, we have more school and more quizzes and tests. Five, we have to come home to: 'How did the test go honey?' Then all you do, is fake a smile and nod."

Under Deasy's reign, elementary teachers were reporting  that the fix at poorer performing schools was so intense on testing that they were told to drop the sciences and not to do any art until the last 20 minutes of the day. They had to stick strictly to math and English. While there are probably countless reasons for this inner-district battle, I knew sticking strictly to testing would further unhinge  the already stilted relationship between the board president and the superintendent.

Having worked with Vladovic, and having talked with his fiercest critics, I still was able to see one thing: Vladovic wanted to return to look at the whole picture of the child and not just the limiting view  of tests, which is like taking one facet of a diamond to determine its worth. The board president joined that testing movement at the time due to the intense amount of sharp criticism that the second largest  district in the nation was a complete flop, with a dropout rate nearing 50 percent. With test scores continually on the rise, the board appears ready to move on to bring back the polish and spit of some important principles  that were dropped such as returning fine art to the classroom.

 Deasy and Vladovic are two giants sparring over philosophy and the right ways to teach kids. It appears only one will survive, which happens often when two personalities are too large for the town. My bet is on Vladovic. The reason: Deasy threatened to quit if Vladovic was named board president in December.

 Despite the threat, the board unanimously voted Vladovic into the seat. Bosses typically don't like threats. Rumblings of the accusations began to hit before that. After the vote that brought Vladovic into the presidency in July, Deasy didn't leave his post. He stayed.

Deasy denies that he has anything to do with the allegations against Vladovic. Still criticism seems to brimming over for the Deasy. The United Teachers Los Angeles gave Deasy an F grade as superintendent. I can't help but agree.

While Vladovic is getting beaten up for his temper, Deasy isn't actually a keep -it-in-control-kind-of-guy either. He berated a substitute -- in front of the students -- for having them copy instructions off the board, a request from their teacher, an issue reported by Los Angeles Times columnist Sandy Banks.  He told the sub it was a waste of time. But as far as I know substitutes are supposed to follow the teacher's instructions. In reality, she wasn't doing anything wrong. It should have been a debate between him and the regular instructor.

For myself, I am so ready for Los Angeles Unified to move on.  Deputy Superintendent Jamie Aquino announced his departure after calling the board members micro-managers and said they threatened the academic progress of the district's students. He also accused the board of mistrusting the top school officials, according to many news accounts, and plans to depart at the end of December. 

"The current political climate does not allow me to lead an agenda that is in the best interests of the kids," Aquino said in news accounts.

The truth is that really depends on how you look at it.

Pay It Forward

Alyssa Josephine O'Neill in red surrounded by family.

 

Pay It Forward So We Can Still Believe There Are Truly Good Things In The World Especially When It Comes to #AJO

By Diana L. Chapman

A couple of weeks back, my family was having a small reunion at Acapulco for lunch when we spotted a group of men, probably in their 20s and 30s, enjoying beer and margaritas and generally having a good time.

One was leaving about the same time as us and said:  "Have a great day" as he started to put his helmet on and get on his motorcycle. But when he spotted us getting into my sister Leslie's jeep, he flagged our group. "I saw this when I rode up and parked here," he pointed to a well-deflated tire on the right front passenger side.

None us had any idea. We celebrated  that Leslie and her son, Chris, had made it safely off the freeway from  San Diego to San Pedro that day. With plans to return the following morning, Chris helped her fill up the tire, but it slowly leaked on the way home. When Leslie rolled into a gas station in San Diego on Monday, there was further bad news -- but good fortune because of our brief friend.

Every tire on her car was bald. Being under an enormous amount of stress  with work, my sister missed it. All of us felt indebted  that  a man took a few seconds  to warn us and by doing so, possibly saved lives.  I thought of him frequently afterward and how such a minuscule seeming suggestion became a lifesaver.

It stayed with me for awhile, before I found my own great opportunity to pay it forward. Sitting at my doctor's office, an elderly, distressed woman in a wheel chair rolled in with her young caretaker. The woman was next to tears trying to get in to see Dr. Anna Mellor that day in Torrance.

"She's back to back patients," the check in woman said.

"But I am so sick," the woman cried. "I really need to see my doctor."

"There isn't anything open," the hospital clerk said politely. "There's nothing I can do. I am so sorry."

My appointment was  with the same doctor in the next few  minutes. I had already been checked in and was there to double check on some health issues, but there wasn't as much urgency to it as there was for this patient.  I felt terrible how upset she was and understood her emotions well. During times I've been extremely ill, I've only wanted to see my family doctor because she is kind and caring and understands my history.

"Wait," I said to the two women running the desk. "If it works, I can give this woman my appointment."

The two clerks were stunned and pleased, both giving me smiles. The woman and her caregiver were also grateful, thanking me. They didn't need to thank me really. I was just paying it forward as the motorcyclist had done. It's especially important that we do this now. The times seem devastating, from still trying to pullout from a deep and dark recession to our government shutting down embarrassing many citizens of America, we need this breath of fresh air, these strokes of kindness. I won't even get into the horrific mass shootings across our nation.

A woman on the news carried a sign for our politicians: "You are breaking America's heart." I couldn't have agreed more.

What we need right now  is exactly  this type of healing, this type of journey because we are all on it together.  Paying it forward  reminds us that humanity still has goodness in its soul. And that's exactly the reminder that the parents of Alyssa Josephine O'Neill's parents gave us when they touched off an international and viral movement in regards to their daughter's death.

Their 18-year-old daughter, who suffered from epilepsy and was diagnosed in 2012, texted her mom  on Sept. 3 that she wanted a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks. Before her mother had a chance to grant her daughter's wish, Alyssa had an epileptic seizure and died on Sept.  4. She didn't get the chance to delight in the sweet drink.

 Devastated, her parents, Jason and Sarah, felt lost as to what to do. Heartsick, they  visited their nearby Starbucks in Erie, Pa. in honor of their daughter's memory.

They wanted to do something so they shared  her last request. They bought pumpkin spice lattes for 40 other people, according, to various news accounts. All the couple asked for was that their daughter's initials, #AJO, be written on the cups in her favorite color -- purple.

In response, the Starbucks manager decided to pass out 50 more free lattes to customers with the AJO brand and the gifts from the heart exploded across the internet after customers started asking the baristas what it was all about. The baristas directed them to Alyssa's Facebook page.

The compassion went global from there with people picking up restaurant bills, stamping #AJO all over the place to help spread the word about epilepsy impacting 6.5 million people worldwide Even an elementary school boy bought books for children at his school who couldn't afford them  -- in honor of #AJO.

Sending the family two kindness bracelets, a woman's handwritten note on the Facebook page said: "Dear O'Neill family, I am sincerely sorry for your great loss.Truly you were blessed for many years and blessings are now flowing to others. Please wear my bracelets in honor of Alyssa. It is my small effort to spread kindness to others.With warm regards, Grace."

Pay it forward doesn't have to be about money or picking up some one's tab. It can be a small gesture like opening a door for someone or letting someone in a lane. It can be a handwritten note left on a car telling a person to have a good day or buying some candy for kids at a store when they are short changed. It can even be kind compliments. There can never be enough of those. When the world feels dark, these actions can make us feel there is still light out there, somewhere just waiting for us.

If we do these things, we can share #AJO for years to come and remember that goodness can still reign in our hearts and with those that join us.

My Super Fat Dad

Helena's drawing of her fasto dad. 

 Dear Readers:

 I loved this story. It surprised me that a 10-year-old could figure out the trend that more and more people are becoming prejudice to those overweight. Helena capsulizes this well in her story. It's a building problem where one airline says it's considering charging people by their weight; An obese boy was taken away from his mother solely because of his weight (he lost nothing while in foster care); and it mushroomed into a hospital saying they would not take care of obese people. I was proud

of Helena for writing this story and still scratching my head as to how such a young girl figured this out.

And just so you know, neither of her parents are fat.

Diana

My Super Fatso Dad

  

By Helena Ghekiere, 10  

   

   My name is Marsha Jane Brady.  I have a super skinny mom, her name is Breggita, a regular sized twin sister, Mia, and a super, duper, super, duper, fat, fat, FAT dad, named Bob. One day, I was doing my homework when my dad trudged into the room.

   "Marsha, can you hand me that donut?" he asked as he stood in the middle of the homework room.

   "Dad is it just me, or are you fatter today?" I asked. But he didn't seem to hear me which is good because if he did hear me, I'd be in HUGE trouble.

   "Marsha, would you PLEASE hand me the donut?" he asked again, a little angrier this time. I didn't answer because, well, number one, he could do it himself and two, he didn't need the donut.

   "Give me that donut!!!" Dad commanded almost growling.

    That's when I totally lost it and yelled: "Dad, you don't need a donut!!!" If you ask me!" But I just screamed that in my head so no one else would hear it.

   But I did say out loud: "Hey, Dad, why don't you go to the kitchen and get a donut, O.K.? Why don't you do that, fatso? I mean Dad."

   Then Dad started trembling in rage. "What did you call me?!"

   I said, "Um, Dadso!" I said it with a fake smile plastered across my face.

   "You called me Fatso," my Dad yelled. "You are grounded for, how old are you now?" he said in a softer voice this time, which sounded more scary then when he yelled.

   "Ten," I confessed.

   "You are grounded for ten weeks!" Fatso said.

   "Dadaaaad," I whined. "O.K. umm, two weeks?"

   "And that is final!" he grabbed my arm and dragged me into my room. He scowled at me before closing my door. Luckily, I don't have a lock. Then, I heard a clicking noise. I went over to the door to see if it was open. It wasn't.

   That night, I was lying in my bed when I heard some tapping on the window. At first, I thought I was imagining it. Then it kept getting louder, louder and louder. Then I heard a faint yelling. I listened carefully trying to make out what it said.

   "Open the window. Open the window!" I heard.

   I rushed over to the creaking window and yanked it open.

   "Mia what are you doing here?!" I asked astonished.

   "I'm here to rescue you, duh," my twin said.

   "How will you get me out?" Did I mention that there was a screen super-glued to my window?

   "Easy," Mia said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a knife.

   "Where did you get that?" I asked stunned.

   "I stole it from Dad's prized, kitchen collection," she giggled as though she outsmarted our super fat dad.

      "Shh....or Dad will hear you! I got it when Dad was dragging you to your room," she explained.

   "Let's get you outta here," said Mia suddenly.

   "Right!" I said. I had almost forgotten why she was here. She started cutting the screen and soon the old screeny lived no more.

   "Come on Marsha," Mia said. "Climb out."

   O.K. Some information. When windows are a foot higher than you, and you are not flexible, it's hard to get out of a window. My window is a foot taller than me and I am not flexible, so it was not surprisingly hard to get out.

   "I can't," I yelped. "It's too steep. Can you help me?"

   "Sure," Mia said, starting to pull me up by the hand.

   Finally, after two hard minutes, I was free.

   "Now  what should we do?" asked Mia.

   "I don't know. I thought you were a genius," I answered.

   "I can't always think up a solution," she said.

   "I thought you already had a plan!" I yelled at her. I was getting mad now. Really mad.

   "Well, sometimes you shouldn't expect something when you don't know it's true," Mia yelled back.

   I got so mad I wanted to burst. I stormed off. You have to remember that we were on the roof. So without assistance of Mia I was helpless. Whoa. What was that? I started slipping on a broken roof tile and then, I fell, down, down, down.

   And suddenly, it stopped. I felt like I was hovering. But it couldn't be. I didn't feel a thud either. I looked down. Oh, my gosh. It was Dad!!! Fatso Dad!!! It couldn't be, but it was.

   "Dad, you have wings. You can fly?"

   "Yes, I have wings and I can fly. All angels do. I love you, Marsha. Now let's get inside. It's freezing out here!"

   At that moment, I decided, I would never call my dad "Fatso," again. After all, he was an angel!

Encore Entertainers Trains Kids for Life

Gracie Monaghan, 8, (middle) plays Scuttle, the dumb seagull, with her friends, two sisters, Maria (left) and Athena Seiple (right) Siena Funiciello, 7, played Ariel in this part. All photos provided by Shana Ghekiere.

Lisa Puskar, 9, who split the part with Sienna, talks to the prince, Jack Ghekiere, 8. His sister, Helena, 10, plays Sebastian

Hats Off To Encore Entertainers For Training Kids How to Act For Musicals And --  For Life

By Diana L. Chapman

  

 Tiny, and a whirlwind of an 8-year-old, Jack Ghekiere stepped out of the crystal blue waves in his prince role, bold, confident and remembering every single line he had learned for The Little Mermaid.

   Jack and the other 32 kids in the summer production ages 4 to 13 only had two weeks to learn their lines before the performance would happen before their parents, well-wishers and the general public at the Warner Grand Theatre in San Pedro.

   "It was so fun and I'd rather be doing Encore than school," said the peppy boy with bouncy, Shirley Temple curls after the performance.

    That was likely the case for the scores of youths who had a chance to act, sing and dance in the musical even though they are much younger than many of their counterparts who had lead roles in the group's double-the-size productions like Oliver which had 83 students.

    The smaller performance is to help some of the younger youth to strut their stuff, some of whom  might not have had a shot for the leads in larger productions.

   "I was scared," said Gracie Monaghan, an 8-year-old, who played Scuttle, the seagull in Little Mermaid. "When we did Oliver, it was my first time ever speaking on stage. Then, the Little Mermaid was scary and it was my second time and I had a really big part. It was fun and scary at the same time. I liked acting like Scuttle because he was so stupid."

   The amazing shows -- I've seen two of them already and am looking forward to seeing Peter Pan midwinter in San Pedro and possibly Seussical in Redondo Beach-- were the brainchild of Marcelo and Summer Cacciagioni mostly propelled by Summer's  mentor and Summer's abilities to get youth to act on stage no matter their age, their fears, their shyness or just about anything else that would terrify someone to perform.

   "I love shy kids. They are my specialty," said Summer during a phone interview who has two children, Alora, 4, and 11-month-old Lilly Rose and lives in Torrance. "Bring me a super shy kid and I get so excited. Every kid is different and every approach has to be," who adds that her sometimes massive shows teach children a lot about life. Children who go through her programs, she said, learn about commitment, responsibilities, team work and respect. Most of all, it gives them a big boost in self confidence.

   Parents are also encouraged to take on larger roles in the productions.

   The programs accommodate children ages 4 and up and does provide scholarships for some students. Last year, Encore raised $30,000 to help families who otherwise couldn't afford to enroll their children. This year, the Gala will be held at 5 p.m. Nov. 10 at the Torrance Marriott with casino games, live music, a silent auction and a banquet dinner. Tickets are $65 per person if purchased before Oct. 19.

   The non-profit organization's beginnings were sparked  in 2007 when Summer's mentor, Alex H. Urban, who ran youth drama productions, died and "it really opened my eyes."Summer was so impressed with Urban  that when she wrote a high school paper on him she  penned: "One day, I want to grow up and produce, direct, and run my own Youth Theatre Company!"

   She did teach youth for a variety of studios across the South Bay, but after Urban's death, both her husband and friends encouraged her that it was time for her to open her own non-profit  theatre company, calling it Encore which stands for Educating the Next Class of Rising Entertainers.

     Terrified about whether it would work, Summer  said she needed a minimum of at  least 25 kids to start, she prayed hard for 45.

   Instead, she got 67 and is "blown away" by the successful productions that entice  kids and their parents to join up. Since its opening, Encore has taught more than 1,000 students through productions, outreaches, camps and classes. By the end of the year, the non-profit will have conducted over 40 musical productions. Encore has two branches for its operations, one in San Pedro and the other in Redondo Beach.

    The actress says her company is part of the village needed to raise a child which can take "an army."  Her youngest student was a 3-month-old  baby and her oldest, an 81-year-old woman. Her gift, she says, is what presses so many youngsters up on the stage despite all their fears.

    "I'm not just about the quality; I'm about the process," she explains.

     And it can become a family affair.

      Jack's sister, Helena, played Sebastian in the Little Mermaid, a large part for a 10-year-old, especially having to have a Jamaican accent. She had other large roles before, but this was her biggest.

    "It was my first time being in just about every scene," Helena said. "I thought it would be hard, but it's always easy to learn my lines. It was so much fun, but I was exhausted afterward."

   Their mother, Shana, explains that the entire family has been happily immersed into the productions, meeting lifelong friends especially when parents are "encouraged" to share talents making costumes, and organizing the students. Her husband, Mike, played the shyster, Fagin, in Oliver where his children had smaller parts.

   "I find Encore to be incredibly supportive environment for all involved," Shana emailed me.  The children are met "where they are" and helped to grow, not only as performers, but as people. They are encouraged to try (and "failure" is seen as a natural part of the process!).

   "I honestly hear, "Encore is the best thing EVER! at least 25 times a week from my daughter.  My son also loves it. The teamwork that the parents do to make a show is amazing. It is truly a community at Encore."

   Eight-year-old Athena Seiple agrees with that assessment.

   In Little Mermaid, "I was a chef. I was a fish. I was a seagull. It made me feel like I was on Broadway. I made new friends and I liked everybody in the camp. It made me feel really good about myself. It made me feel like I was an adult."

 

       

    For more about Encore Entertainers, call (310) 896-6459 or email: info@encoreentertainers.org.  Visit http://www.encoreentertainers.com to buy tickets for upcoming musicals and for class prices.