“It was pretty clear that public education in New Orleans and UTNO [United Teachers of New Orleans] were under attack,” says Randels, who serves on the UTNO executive council. “There were people determined to use the damage done by the storm either to have the state take over the school district or to open up a host of charter schools.”

He says that upon returning to New Orleans, he found the emotions of community members and school staff ran the gamut from delight at being back home to frustration over city officials’ refusal to reopen their neighborhood schools.

Because only four of the city’s 112 regular (noncharter) public schools were reopened after the hurricane, most of New Orleans’ 7,500 teachers, paraprofessionals and school secretaries were laid off. Randels, who had previously taught English and writing at the city’s Frederick Douglass High School, says he was one of the lucky UTNO members. He was able to secure a teaching position at New Orleans’ McMain Secondary Unified School when it reopened in January.

Randels says the funding for his position at McMain comes from a couple of national foundations that stepped forward to sponsor the “Students at the Center” writing program he ran at Douglass. Though damaged by the storm, McMain, a magnet school, reopened in January with about half of its former students. They were joined by students who had been enrolled before the hurricane in other New Orleans high schools.

“The seniors who returned said they came back because they didn’t want the storm to stop them from graduating from McMain,” says Randels, noting that two students commuted from Baton Rouge, La., every day—a two hour drive—in order to finish their school careers at McMain.

Initially, there was some hostility between the school’s previous students and the new ones. However, it didn’t last long, Randels says.

Not the senior year they envisioned
Most students eagerly anticipate their senior year of high school. They look forward to planning their future and making memories that last a lifetime. Hurricane Katrina survivors Dominique Townsend and Kenneth Spears walked away from their senior year with memories—just not the ones they originally envisioned.

The 2005 school year kicked off like any other for students in New Orleans. Townsend began her final year at the selective McMain magnet school she had attended for years. And Spears attended his regular neighborhood school, Alcee Fortier High School. Just one week into the school year, however, Hurricane Katrina ravaged their communities and forced most of them to evacuate.

Chaos and confusion ensued as residents were displaced, left vulnerable and uncertain of their futures. Townsend moved to Texas, and Spears relocated to Baton Rouge. Both returned to New Orleans in January.

Their seemingly different fates crossed as they pursued the same goal—finishing their high school careers. After the hurricane, McMain was one of the few public schools to reopen, combining its remaining magnet students, including Townsend, with students like Spears from other New Orleans public schools.

New Orleans public high school students from across the city were forced to transfer to McMain, whose academic curriculum was for gifted and talented students.

Transitioning into the renamed McMain Secondary Unified School became a learning experience for both Spears and Townsend. McMain now seemed like a regular New Orleans public school, Townsend says. “I had never experienced that, and it was hard to adapt to. McMain [as a magnet school] secluded us from the real world because everything was on the high end. Eventually I learned many of the new students weren’t as different as I thought.”

Spears’ initial impression of McMain was through its reputation as a “smart school.” “McMain students were thought of as stuck-up, and students from [most other] New Orleans public schools were considered ghetto and not smart,” says Spears. “Students who came from regular New Orleans public schools were referred to as ‘unified.’ In the beginning it was McMain students versus the unified students. After a while people started to put their differences aside and gel,” Spears recalls.

Stereotypes and suspicions among students quickly dissolved after they realized everyone in the school had just endured the unimaginable. Although they were different before the storm, they were now united as survivors.

Townsend and Spears became friends through teacher Jim Randels’ class, and both of their senior year experiences were life-changing.

Despite personal losses, Townsend and Spears overcame adversity as they continued to strive for academic excellence. And both emerged as education activists, as exhibited by their post-Katrina community involvement.

Townsend regularly attended school board and faculty meetings. “I hope my activism will help improve education for future generations,” she says.

Spears spoke at meetings to urge the reopening of more New Orleans schools, and volunteered with the Big Brother/Big Sister program. While Spears and Townsend agree that some normalcy has been restored to their lives, New Orleans itself has not returned to normal. “The city isn’t completely empty, but I do feel a void,” admits Townsend.

After their remarkable senior year, Spears and Townsend are looking forward to attending college.