That Gleam in the Superintendent’s Eyes Is Not Stars

We all share a vision of what we’d like to see happen inside the schoolhouse doors. We’d like to picture classrooms full of fresh-faced, eager, inquisitive students, each excited about the possibilities of how far their brains and talents can take them.

We’d then like to follow those children home and see a setting where learning is cultivated and encouraged by their parents and siblings. We’d also like to think those children would have a reasonable range of experiences outside home and school that would widen their views of the world.

Some vision.

Too bad it doesn’t even come close to reality for thousands of schoolchildren in Orange County and millions more across the country.

Into that gap between vision and reality steps Rudy Castruita, superintendent for the last three years of the Santa Ana Unified School District and, depending on your depth of field, either a prophet or a prattler.

If your view is that a school district’s job is just to teach from the textbooks, then Castruita is just a guy who talks a lot.

But if you see that the state of education, especially in urban areas such as Santa Ana, is far different than it was just a decade ago, then administrators like Castruita offer hope.

“We can all talk about education and the wealthy and upper-middle-class communities that are going to go on and become educated,” Castruita said this week. “But what about the population that’s emerging in this country, the non-educated population? That scares the hell out of me. If we’re not doing something to educate those people, your welfare and mine in the years to come is going to be in jeopardy.”

Castruita, raised by his grandparents after his father abandoned the family and his mother relinquished control of him, came to Santa Ana after a stint as principal of Los Alamitos High School. This would be the baseball equivalent of being traded from the Oakland A’s to the Cleveland Indians.

Which was just the way Castruita, now 47, wanted it. But rather than bemoan his new team, he sought to rebuild it. The first thing he had to do was take stock of what he’d inherited.

He had a district where 40% of the students were immigrants. More than half didn’t speak English. Somewhere around 1 in 10 went on to college. A large majority of elementary school students had never been to a doctor even for routine checkups. Drugs and gang problems infected the neighborhoods. Many parents would rather have their children working than going to school.

As such, Castruita’s quest to educate what he calls “the whole child, not just bits and pieces of the child,” has taken him outside his administrative headquarters and into classrooms, into businessmen’s offices, into community forums.

He preaches to the kids about staying in school; he preaches to their parents about the value of education. He asks the businessmen and other professionals to give time to the students, to help them see the possibilities and the fruits of an education.

He bridles at the suggestion he’s straying from the basics of education.

“Let’s talk about basic needs,” he said. “How about breakfast? Food? Hey, we can’t keep our heads buried in the sand. We have to address the needs of kids. If kids are coming to school hungry, then we are going to provide a breakfast program. If our kids are coming to school unhealthy, then I’m going to do everything in my power to help them. Kids can’t learn if they’re hungry. They can’t learn if they’re not well.”

Convinced that all kids start out wanting to learn, he has encouraged his teachers to foster self-esteem among the students. “Somewhere along the fourth or fifth grade, we lose a lot of our kids because somewhere along the way they haven’t found success, or they’ve been told they’re not going to make it, they’re not going to amount to anything.

“The sad thing about our kids is they don’t have a lot of role models. . . . And that saddens me. . . . School is their safe environment. They love being in there. Then they go back home to their communities and it’s tough. . . . It would be nice if they could come home after school and have a place to put their books down and read and study, but, hell, they can’t. They’ve got four, five, six brothers and sisters, plus an aunt and uncle living with them. It’s survival. Some of our parents think kids should go out and work. Quit school. What’s school? That’s the mentality I’m trying to break.”

Castruita says his message is getting across. The dropout rate has declined 33% in the last two years, he said, and about 65% of the high school seniors now go on to college.

There isn’t enough space here to lay out Castruita’s agenda.

But this thought emerges after spending an hour listening to him:

Because he’s not afraid to see the world as it is, Castruita isn’t afraid of challenging it. He has de-mythologized the notion that education problems are insurmountable. He doesn’t see bogymen; instead, he sees flesh-and-blood youngsters and parents--both of whom need to be taught.

Castruita hopes the task doesn’t scare others, for he sees it as the wave of the future in California.

By design, Castruita has made himself a highly visible front man for change in Santa Ana.

If he fails, everyone will see it.

“I always have a sense of doubt about me,” he said. “I’ve always had a sense of doubt about my whole life. What that does is motivate me to work harder. I want the best for the kids in this district; I think they deserve it. But more importantly, I want this district to be a guiding light for how you educate urban youth.”

Rudy Castruita may be right in saying that Santa Ana students don’t have a lot of role models, but they have one very powerful one.

His name: Rudy Castruita.

Occupation: Prophet.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.