A Question of Necessity or of Equity? Full-Service Community Schools and the (mis)Education of Black Youth

Abstract

Public schools in the United States have struggled to determine whether their mandate is simply knowledge transmission or includes the development and well-being of the whole child. Contemporary realities of resegregation and inequality have prompted many districts to embrace this latter notion and consider the Full Service Community Schools (FSCSs) model. In this paper, we examine a school district’s FSCS initiative as implemented at a predominately Black middle school and a racially heterogeneous high school. We ask, what are the characteristics—e.g. structural, pedagogical, relational, discursive—of FSCSs that seek to support Black students’ well-being and academic success? How do Black parents and students experience these FSCSs? Findings illustrate the racialized nuance of FSCS reforms, including the critical role of culturally relevant strategies and the need for an aligned socio-political clarity and related set of goals across educational stakeholders in order to create and sustain the success of FSCSs.

Introduction

Over the last few decades, income and resource inequality have dramatically increased in the United States and far surpass levels of inequality within similarly wealthy countries (Carter & Reardon, 2014). These broad societal trends have reversed advances made toward racial equity in the 1970s and 1980s and compounded racial inequalities across the domains of health, labor, housing, education, and their intersections. Within education, racial and economic inequalities are evident in the patterns of academic performance and the quality of schooling afforded to racially minoritized students and students living in poverty—inequalities that are linked to contemporary patterns of residential resegregration that nearly rival those of the pre-Brown v. Board of Education (Brown) era (Orfield, Ee, Frankenberg & Siegel-Hawley, 2016). Interestingly, white, middle and upper class students are the most likely to attend racially and economically homogeneous schools, yet Black and Latinx students bear the brunt of this resegregation, as the schools they are most likely to attend are often under-resourced and located within high poverty areas (Orfield et al., 2016).

Research reveals that Black youth, in particular, are most likely to underperform and demonstrate lower levels of proficiency relative to their peers, as well as be disproportionately overrepresented in documented disciplinary actions (Gregory, Skiba & Noguera, 2010). Despite such studies, it is often presumed that these disparities are the result of the individual failings of Black children, families, or communities. Even studies that focus on racialized or other social processes in schools frequently do not make direct connections between their findings and broader societal or discursive mechanisms of inequality to consider how disparities and inequalities in educational opportunities, experiences, and outcomes are socially constructed (Carter & Reardon, 2014). This lack of scholarship relative to social inequalities and schooling has dire consequences, especially for youth and communities who have been historically disenfranchized in the U.S. yet continue to look to schools—particularly public schools—as a key social institution that can support social and economic mobility.

This expectation highlights the tensions between the supposed democratic ideals and roles of education and compulsory K-12 schooling in the U.S., and the history of miseducation of racially minoritized youth in schools. Schools have long debated if their mandate is knowledge transmission, social and cultural assimilation, or indoctrination, and/or if they are meant to support whole child development and well-being. Schools likely function in all of these ways, as learning settings are simultaneously critical sites of human development across diverse domains (e.g. cultural, intellectual, linguistic) and institutional spaces of knowledge acquisition and socialization (Eccles & Roeser, 2011). However, the racialized and classed nature of toxic inequalities (Shapiro, 2017) of access and opportunity has meant that many children’s basic needs are not being met in schools. Racially minoritized youth and youth living in poverty are the most likely to attend publicly funded and administered schools, relying upon them for academic access, services, and other supports (Milner, 2012). Recognizing these persistent systemic inequalities within and outside of schools, many districts have sought to reinvent themselves through full-service community schools (FSCSs; Cummings, Todd, & Dyson, 2011).

We examine how a Northern California school district’s FSCS initiative was implemented at a predominantly Black middle school and a racially heterogeneous high school. We ask: What are the structural, pedagogical, relational, and discursive characteristics of FSCSs that seek to support Black students’ well-being and academic success? How do Black parents and students experience these FSCSs? Through this comparative case study (Bartlett & Vavrus, 2018), we argue that while FSCSs have the potential to address systemic and symbolic inequalities, generally, and the miseducation of Black youth, specifically, this potential hinges upon (1) teachers’ and administrators’ sociopolitical clarity in thoughts, words, and actions; and (2) the alignment of this clarity from the classroom to the district. Across our focal FSCSs, we see how the alignment and/or fractures in sociopolitical clarity, and its enactment across layers of context and activity, affect Black parents’ and students’ perceptions of the FSCSs, and relatedly, whether the FSCSs address or reproduce inequalities. Our findings suggest that FSCSs must consider their charge not only as one of equity (not equality), but of necessity if they are to counter the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth within public schools.

Literature review

As evidenced by the patterns of educational inequality in the U.S. and compulsory school laws, there has always been a tension about the role of schools in educating and supporting the development and well-being of youth, particularly Black youth (Anderson, 1988). Since the late 19th century, schools have periodically toyed with being supportive sites for development and the administration of critical resources, given that such resources may be unavailable to many youth outside of schools (Dryfoos & Maguire, 2002). Of note, despite being underfunded and undervalued, during segregation many Black schools operated as key social and political institutions in communities and offered a myriad of (in)tangible human development resources and supports (Walker, 2018). In a post-Brown era, such institutions have been dismantled, and the tensions of human development, education, and schooling for Black youth and communities persist and are exacerbated by on-going patterns of resegregation and structural inequality that span within and beyond schools (Orfield et al., 2016; Shapiro, 2017).

FSCSs are one effort to recapture schools, particularly those in “urban” areas (Milner, 2012), as key sites for the positive development and culturally relevant education of youth. FCSCs base their approach on the assumption that as youth grow, they navigate across and make sense of multiple social, cultural, political, and physical contexts (Bronfenbrenner, 1994; Cole, 1996; McKinney de Royston & Nasir, 2017). This approach appreciates that schools are situated within neighborhoods and communities that have specific geographies of (in)access and (in)opportunity that influence what they are able and expected to do. It also appreciates that processes of learning and development are not restricted to schools or other institutional spaces but occur consequentially as youth navigate across settings, and grapple with various social messages and practice-based activities they encounter along the way (Bronfenbrenner, 1994; Bronfenbrenner & Morris, 2006; McKinney de Royston & Nasir, 2017).

FSCSs seek to address the intellectual, social, emotional, and physical developmental needs of children and reduce inequalities by serving as safety nets and clearinghouses for the administration of comprehensive and integrated resources and services for students, their families, and community members. The premise here is that academic learning and success require attention to the whole child and includes attending to the ecologies of access and opportunity surrounding the child that influence their well-being. Indeed, research shows a positive relationship between family involvement and student outcomes across all racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic groups (Henderson & Mapp, 2002; Jeynes, 2005). It further suggests that achievement, credit completion, attendance, and graduation rates increase and discipline issues decrease when students feel connected, and have personal interest, agency, and their basic needs met (Biag & Castrechini, 2016; Catsambis & Beveridge, 2001).

Embracing a FSCSs model requires shifting from an individualist, assimilationist framework of student success to a whole child, child-in-context perspective (Bronfenbrenner, 1979, 1994; Bronfenbrenner & Morris, 2006; Epstein, 2018). It requires debunking racial and economic inequalities as normal, solely the result of a child’s or family’s actions, or of innate group differences—and instead as a result of systemic inequalities (Carter & Reardon, 2014). The FCSC model marks a shift in assumptions about schooling, teaching, and learning, from a model where schools implicity or explicitly aim to assimilate children into existing systems to changing systems to support the positive development of children. For example, family-school relationships, particularly for minoritized parents, are often one-dimensional, provider-client exchanges where schools presume to serve students’ needs with less regard for families and communities (Milner, 2012). By contrast, FCSCs reframe family and community partnerships and involvement as based upon accessibility, reciprocity, and equity where the school, families, and communities are each leaders and critical contributors (Ishimaru, 2019).

Table 1, from Ishimaru (2019, p. 6), captures this ideological shift from what characterizes traditional partnerships between families and schools to that which characterizes equitable collaborations between these two groups. This figure explicitly reflects the changing nature of the goals and relationships between families and schools in district and community-based initiatives. These shifts speak to the ideological underpinnings of schooling that are often challenged and rearticulated in FSCSs. Ishimaru’s (2019) figure demonstrates how equitable collaborations are not only about shifting assumptions about what schools can/should do, but also about shifting the goals, strategies, roles, and cultural and political contexts within which schools operate and to which they need to be responsive.

Table 1.

Contrasting principles of engagement between traditional partnerships and equitable collaborations.

	Traditional partnerships	Equitable collaborations
Goals	Material resources and discrete aims within a culture of denial or implicit blame	Systemic change within a culture of shared responsibility
Strategies	Inside, technical change.	Adaptive change to build capacity and relationships of a broad range of stakeholders
Parent role	Nondominant parents as clients and beneficiaries (educators/professionals set the agenda).	Nondominant parents as educational leaders who contribute and help shape the agenda
Context	Apolitical approach focused on schools in isolation	Reform as a political process that addresses broader issues in community

Ishimaru (2019). From family engagement to equitable collaboration, p. 6.

In shifting the ideological and structural terrain of schools in this and other ways, FCSCs hold great promise for addressing racialized and classed inequalities by divesting in deficit-oriented and assimilationist schooling to instead advocate for developmentally appropriate, asset-based, and race and class conscious educational practices that meet the specific needs of the children, families, and communities with whom they collaborate. Yet, we know too little about what FCSCs are actually doing to support youth in navigating inequalities and how the students, families, and communities they are supposed to be in partnership with feel about them. Thus far, research on FSCSs has explored (1) broad goals and characteristics (Oakes, Maier, & Daniel, 2017; Sanders, 2016); (2) program design and implementation (Biag & Castrechini, 2016; Cummings et al., 2011; Dryfoos & Maguire, 2002; Galindo, Sanders, & Abel, 2017); and (3) educators’ preparation and capacity to engage in policies and practices (Dryfoos, Quinn, & Barkin, 2005; FitzGerald & Quinones,~ 2018; Sanders, 2018; Sanders, Galindo, & McIntosh Allen, 2018). Few empirical studies examine how FCSCs operate within broader contexts that include individuals, cultural practices and communities, institutions, and social discourses at the school and district levels. Moreover, there is a need for studies that examine the necessity and impact of FSCSs from the perspective of those individuals and communities that work within and are affected most acutely by FSCSs, such as Black educators, students and families. In focusing our research explicitly on understanding the structural, pedagogical, relational, and discursive characteristics of FSCSs that aim to support Black students and families, we fill significant gaps in the literature around FSCSs, schooling and equity, and around interventions aiming to disrupt the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth.

Theoretical framework

In studying the characteristics of FSCSs and their impact on Black youth and families, we make the assumption that human development and learning are not isolated to specific spaces, places, and interactions, but occur at all times within and across contexts (Eccles & Roeser, 2011; Epstein, 2018). Scholarship on development and learning suggests that the broader ecological system in which an individual is situated influences individual human development, as well as what is learned, how it is learned, and how individuals and communities think about themselves and others. In studying schools and what is possible through them, it is therefore important to understand how schools, along with neighborhoods, homes, and families, operate as critical sites of human development and learning. Cultural-ecological and sociocultural perspectives are particularly useful for capturing this dynamic because they offer conceptual insights into how learning and development are influenced by and occur within an overlapping web of social, cultural, and political contexts (Bronfenbrenner & Morris, 2006; Cole, 1996; Gutierrez & Rogoff, 2003). These perspectives argue for understanding and studying the intertwined processes of learning and development as facilitated or mediated by culturally and socially-determined goals, practices, and activities with artifacts and tools (Nasir & Hand, 2006).

Forwarding the view that learning and development are interwined and fundamentally social and cultural, ecological perspectives such as Bronfenbrenner (1979, 1994), conceptualize the developing child as nested within multiple layers of context that they negotiate daily and that dynamically shift over their life course. Brofenbrenner (1979) characterizes these layers as (1) the micro-context of institutions and groups—such as families, classrooms, schools—with immediate and direct access and impact on the child; (2) the mesocontext or the interconnections between the micro-contexts (e.g. relationship between a child’s family and school); (3) the social, political, and economic exo-contexts or systems (e.g. capitalism, education) that the child is not directly involved in but nevertheless impacts him/her; (4) the macro-context that reflects the culture and ideologies of the society, state, and country in which a child lives; and, finally, (5) the chronosystem or aspect of time as it occurs across the life course. This model captures how individuals negotiate messages, practices, and values, across social, cultural, and political contexts, in immediate moment-by-moment interactions, and over time.

While Bronfenbrenner’s (1994) model appropriately conceptualizes learning and development within and across spaces, places, and time, it does not represent the co-constitutive and overlapping nature of contexts (Cole, 1996; Vossoughi & Gutierrez, 2014). For example, the macro-context can affect how the meso-context of family-school relationships is set up and perceived just as changes at the meso-level between families and schools can ultimately reconstitute some aspects of the macro-context. Conceptually, these models do not account for how power dynamics influence access and opportunity in ways that impact human development and learning (McKinney de Royston & Nasir, 2017). Bronfenbrenner (1994), for example, recognizes culture but does not account for race, even though race is a key determinant for social positioning, experience, and other outcomes in the U.S. (Nasir & Bang, 2012).

Taking into account these limitations, McKinney de Royston and Nasir (2017) offer a framework that recognizes how power dynamics, like race, act as organizing frames or discourses that get enacted through macro- and micro-scales of context and activity (e.g. through interpersonal and institutional interactions and practices). This framework considers how multiple layers of context and activity (and their overlap or dissonance) effectively construct racialized learning environments and systems within which children learn and develop, and within which schools try to establish themselves. While Figure 1 depicts each level separately to show its distinct characteristics, the levels are mutually constituting and interactive.

Figure 1.

Multilevel framework for children’s learning and development. McKinney de Royston and Nasir (2017), p. 262

The “social” level represents the racialized, dominant meanings and values of a context, be it the district, school, or society, and the related ways of being that predominate the popular social imagination within that context. These meanings and values are transmitted through the social construction and organization of our institutions and reproduction of ideas, policies, practices that in turn influence the individual identities and roles people are offered and take up across contexts. This framework makes visible that seemingly local, idiosyncratic micro-interactions between individuals or within specific contexts are, in fact, moment-by-moment reflections of larger social discourses or dynamics of power, and how dominant social narratives and practices are reproductive and constrain individual development and learning.

Distinct from prior frameworks, McKinney de Royston and Nasir (2017) account for the co-constructive, bi-directionality of learning and development as they are situated in dynamics of power. It captures dominant forces that shape human development and learning and reproduce the status quo, as well as the resistant and disruptive forces that can emerge from the bottom to challenge the status quo and instigate personal and social change. We utilize this framework to analyze how FSCSs through their discourses, structures, and practices (relational and pedagogical) can disrupt ecologies of inequality via what happens through the district and local interactions and relationships among individuals. Specifically, this framework allows us to analyze how FSCSs are articulated and instantiated within and across the structural, discursive, relational, and pedagogical characteristics of FSCSs and to show that these characteristics simultaneously operate at the social, institutional, cultural, and individual levels.

Methods

This study came out of a broader case study of schools experiencing success in improving their climates and academic achievement for Black students. For years, Oakland Unified School District (OUSD) has grappled with disparities in school experiences and outcomes for students from racially, economically, and linguistically minoritized communities. Also, due to budgetary shortfalls, OUSD spent six years under state receivership, during which time public school enrollment declined, charter school enrollment soared, and the budget deficit—the initial impetus for the takeover—more than doubled (Trujillo, Hernández, Jarrell, & Kissell, 2014). OUSD regained local control in 2009 and began re-envisioning itself while dealing with the realities of a national recession that caused increasing levels of poverty and gentrification across the city.

Hence, in 2011 OUSD released a five-year strategic plan with multiple initiatives targeted at reducing inequalities. The strategic plan marked a shift in the district’s discourse towards conceptualizing inequalities as a systemic issue of unevenly distributed and racialized opportunities for success. This shift was reflected via targeted efforts for particular populations of students, such as African American male students or English Language Learners. It was also reflected through comprehensive efforts that required overhauling fundamental structures of schooling such as implementing Restorative Justice (principles and practices to build community and respond to harm and conflict rather than to punish) district-wide or becoming a Full Service Community District (FCSD). For example, OUSD’s stated mission was to become “a Full Service Community District that serves the whole child, eliminates inequity, and provides each child with excellent teachers for every day” (OUSD, 2011, p. 1). Figure 2 shows how the district delineated its responsibilities as a FCSD and those of individual FSCSs.

Figure 2.

Graphic definition of a full service community school and district (OUSD, 2011).

The mission statement and Figure 2 indicate the district’s recognition of its responsibility to work alongside other civic and community stakeholders to develop a caring, holistic environment in which the learning and success of students are supported, and health, social and educational inequities are reduced. To this end, OUSD entered into formal partnerships with community-based organizations and local jurisdictions that advocate for children and families across the city and county. OUSD made promises to fully support the full-service community district and schools (FSCD/Ss) model and to hold itself accountable for developing and sustaining high quality schools. Part of this accountability measure involved encouraging external researchers to examine how the district’s reforms were being implemented and how they were understood by community stakeholders (e.g. The Gardner Center). In 2011, our team of researchers was invited to examine how initiatives, particularly those relevant for Black students, were beginning to be understood and taken up within schools.

Study design

We draw upon data from a set of case studies of OUSD schools that were experiencing some success with Black students based on normative academic measures (e.g. California Academic Performance Indicator scores) and/or a positive, inclusive school climate for Black students as determined by students, families, and school and/or district officials. For the original set of case studies, we focused on recruiting schools with significant populations of Black students that were highly recommended via community Nominations¹ (Foster, 1991; Ladson-Billings, 1995) by district officials, parents, community organizations, and university-school partners. After determining each school’s willingness to participate, seven sites were selected: two elementary schools, three middle schools, and two high schools. Two sites, a middle school and a high school, were FSCSs (see Table 2 for demographic information).

Table 2.

FSCS demographics 2013–2014 academic year.

School Site	Grade Levels	Number of Students	Ethnoracial Demographics	Eligible for Free & Reduced Meals (FARMS)
North Pineville Middle School* (NPMS)	6th–8th	~220	81% African American 10% Latino 8% Asian/Asian American 1% Two or more races	96% of students
Bay Prep High School (Bay Prep)*	9th–12th	~1850	37% African American  23% white  18% Latino  15% Asian/Asian American  5% Pacific Islander  2% Two or more races	46% of students

^*Pseudonym.

Given this sample size, a robust analysis of OUSD’s FSCD/Ss initiative is beyond the scope of this paper (see Fehrer & Leos-Urbel, 2016). Instead, we use a comparative case study approach to look within and across these FSCSs in order to trace the characteristics that students, families, and educators viewed as supporting Black student success (Bartlett & Vavrus, 2018). Given our past work on racialized learning environments in Oakland, we are interested in understanding the structural, pedagogical, relational, and discursive characteristics of these two schools and making Black parents and students’ perspectives visible.

Data collection process

Data collection occurred at the two focal sites during the 2013–2014 academic year and into the early summer by the coauthors and four graduate students, who each had prior experience teaching in K-12 settings. Table 3 outlines the data sources, including the observational data. Fieldnotes were taken in classrooms and common areas (e.g. cafeteria, main office, hallways) in order to describe the participants, setting and context, and, in the case of classrooms, the organization, instructional strategies, and course content. Semi-structured interviews lasting 45–60 minutes were conducted with parents, students, and educators at the focal schools as participants granted consent across the academic year and early summer. While parent and student interviews proved difficult because of timing and families’ availability, their voices are also included in the observational fieldnotes and informal conversations at the focal sites. The recruitment of students across grades (6–8 at NPMS and 9–12 at Bay Prep) occurred in classes that granted access, through educator and parent recommendations, and via snowball sampling. Students chose either a one-on-one interview format or focus groups of three to five students in order to increase student comfort and discussion.

Table 3.

Data sources for FSCS case study.

	Data source
		Semi-structured interviews (approximately 45–60 minutes each)
School site	Sets of fieldnotes	Student focus group	Individual student	Parent	Teacher	Administrator
North Pineville Middle School	N = 22	N = 1 (3 students)	N = 1	N = 4	N = 5	N = 2
Bay Prep High School	N = 24	N =1 (5 students)	N = 9	N = 1	N = 8	N = 7

Given the context of our study, we were often directed by members of the school community towards individuals they felt supported the school’s success. These individuals included teachers, administrators, counselors, coaches, and afterschool coordinators. We also recruited educators during staff meetings, community events, or other formal and informal gatherings at the school sites. Individual interviews were conducted at a time and location that were convenient for the participant—such as in their offices, classrooms, or a café.

Analysis process

Interviews and fieldnotes were reviewed and coded through an iterative process of identifying emerging themes and documenting how those themes were visible across participants, schools, and data sources. This process began with each researcher independently reading through a set of fieldnotes or an interview transcript and engaging in open coding (Saldaña & Omasta, 2018). During weekly meetings with the team of 10 researchers, the open coding of fieldnotes and interviews were discussed in relation to each school site, then across school sites. We then identified points of convergence within and across schools and the unique characterstics of each school. These points of convergence helped to coalesce a set of broad thematic categories (e.g. relationships), as well as specific codes (e.g. relationships: teacher-student) and subcodes (e.g. relationships: teacher-student: potential affirming) within those categories. These categories and (sub)codes were triangulated across fieldnotes and interviews to iteratively refine the coding scheme and better capture emerging patterns across the data.

While the coauthors engaged in school specific discussions about the data during open coding, these discussions were shared with the broader research team and compared with data from the other schools. Thus, the broader research team became familiar with the data corpus, which was also facilitated by using Dedoose software. Validity measures included debriefing our analysis processes at meetings, conducting member checks (Saldaña & Omasta, 2018), and engaging with sites (e.g. volunteering, hosting fieldtrips to the university campus).

Findings

Below, we share our findings related to the discursive, structural, relational, and pedagogical characteristics of FSCSs that seek to reduce inequalities and support Black students’ well-being and academic success. Consistent with the whole child, child-in-context approach of FSCSs and our own findings, we argue that FSCSs’ ability to create and sustain their aims hinges upon a (1) race and class consciousness: a shared understanding and solidarity around the racialized and classed experiences and realities of students and families; (2) commitment to equity not equality: equality presumes to give all students the same resources, access, learning opportunities and supports whereas equity promotes giving students what they need to succeed without deficit notions or value judgements, which can look different across individual students, student populations, and learning environments (Espinoza, 2007); (3) concern for developing a positive school climate to support student well-being beyond simply improving academic outcomes; and (4) commitment to providing access to what families need, with an understanding of families’ responsibilities to participate in and provide feedback about the resources offered.

Our data further suggest that these four aspects, and their alignment across the discourses and practices at the district, school, community, family, and student levels, are essential for the creation and maintenance of FSCSs that support Black families and students. These aspects reflect educators’ sociopolitical clarity (Bartolome, 1994; Beauboeuf-Lafontant, 1999) that attends to the sociohistorical and politicized realities and vulnerabilities of youth and families.

We begin by discussing the discursive and structural characteristics of the FSCSs that district and school officials designed to support students’ development and learning and reduce inequalities. Next, we highlight how Black students and their families experienced the schools by sharing the pedagogical and relational characteristics of the focal FSCSs. Our findings suggest that for FSCSs to be effective (i.e., address deficit notions and toxic inequalities), the FSCSs’ sociopolitical clarity must be aligned across goals and values of the district, site administration, teachers, and families. In turn, this sociopolitical clarity must be embedded within the discourse and structures of schooling and the relational and pedagogical practices within schools.

Discursive characteristics

Decisions were made to implement FSCSs as part of the district’s strategic plan to provide equitable learning opportunities for students from nondominant communities. For example, within the strategic plan the superintendent states:

We have not met the needs of all children and we do not have high quality schools in every neighborhood. African American, Latino, and English Language Learning students, as well as our students who live in poverty, do not have access to opportunities that other children in Oakland have. Our city remains divided by predictable patterns of low performance, high incidence of violence, and lack of connection. In our current system some individuals have easy access to opportunity while others in Oakland have limited access to opportunity due to where they live. This is not acceptable and not healthy for our community as a whole. We must engage in new ways … with the understanding that our fates in Oakland are linked. If parts of Oakland are suffering, all of Oakland is suffering … OUSD sees a city where children are thriving and innovating. (OUSD, 2011, pp. 2–3)

Here, we see at the level of discourse the superintendent publically acknowledging the racialized and classed patterns of inequality and its impact on students’ educational access and opportunities. He notes that these inequalities are a problem for the entire city, not just those directly affected, and argues schools need to provide for students’ and families’ holistic needs.

Also in the strategic plan (p. 55), the district presents Seven Standards of Practice for quality schools that are consistent with the FSCSs approach: (1) ensuring thriving students and healthy communities; (2) quality learning experiences for all students; (3) safe, supportive & healthy learning environments; (4) learning communities focused on continuous improvement; (5) meaningful student, family & community engagement/partnerships; (6) effective school leadership & resource management; and (7) a high quality central office that is in service of quality schools (OUSD, 2011). These standards include a strong focus on creating positive school climates and student well-being, both as mechanisms to facilitate academic learning and ways of “ensuring thriving students and healthy communities.” Likewise, through these standards the district takes up the responsibility of providing access to the resources and services that families need and commits to being accountable to the effective administration and management of such resources. Finally, the district articulates that these standards should be understood through the “lens of equity,” which they describe as (1): comparably high academic achievement and other student outcomes; (2) equitable access and inclusion; (3) equitable treatment; (4) equitable opportunities to learn; and (5) equitable resources and accountability.

Throughout the district’s strategic plan, equity is conceptualized as differentiation based on need and as a response to inequities in access, inclusion, opportunities, treatment, resources, and accountability mechanisms. The plan has a discursive commitment to race and class consciousness, supporting positive learning environments for success and child well-being, and acceptance of responsibility to ameliorate inequities. These discursive commitments led to the creation of district-wide initiatives such as OUSD becoming a FSCD and establishing community and nonprofit partnerships to develop, implement, and sustain this approach.

Educators at the two focal sites also articulated the four aspects of sociopolitical clarity in their discourse about the need for FSCSs. This discursive characteristic was grounded in a desire to provide a schooling environment that not only addressed parents’ and students’ fears about students’ safety outside of school (e.g. going to and from school) but also their physical and psychic safety at school. In practice, this meant the FSCSs sought to develop positive school environments that were responsive to the trauma students may have experienced and to students’ individual and collective needs beyond that presumed to be necessary for their academic achievement. For example, at Bay Prep, administrators and teachers noticed that many students waited for their rides home immediately outside the school in order to stay safe. In response, the school supported the Academic Resource Center in offering tutoring in classrooms near the waiting area so students could receive tutoring while awaiting their safe rides home—rather than waiting outside where they might feel unsafe. This move is representative of the kinds of targeted strategies that were implemented in order to meet the needs of particular student populations, as expressed discursively by educators and school staff.

Another targeted strategy to support students’ feelings of psychic safety within the school occurred at NPMS when students who identified as Muslim requested, with support from teachers, a space for prayer during the school day (NPMS Teacher Interview, June 13, 2014). The students had felt ostracized and were praying in the bathroom. In response, a classroom was designated where these students could keep their prayer rugs and pray during the school day. The focal schools’ responses demonstrate their ideological commitment to offering targeted needs-based services and supports rather than a neo-liberal ideal of equality that would limit their ability to differentially support students. Bay Prep’s and NPMS’ responses reveal a degree of dedication to supporting positive school climates beyond promoting academic achievement by supporting students’ sense of belonging, identities, and physical and psychic safety.

The discourses among educators at Bay Prep and NPMS also signal their shock, concern, and interest in honoring and responding to the trauma their students experienced outside of school that was beyond their control and purview. Table 4 is a compilation of some of the quotes from interviews with educators at NPMS and Bay Prep that reflect their concerns.

Table 4.

Teachers’ quotes related to student trauma.

… Working [here], I think I had a specific understanding about urban education and the traumas that students bring to classrooms, but until, you have a student actually come up to you and tell you like that they’re in a sorta situation, or that they’ve been exposed to these kinds of things, it doesn’t really hit you, and how impactful that is into their everyday life. (NPMS Educator)

It’s this cycle that happens. It’s hard to deal with. Cause I want to teach you and give you what you need, but you’re dealing with your dad being locked up, and your mom is gone, and it’s hard. If someone is not prepared to deal with that and have empathy for students who have to deal with that, you can’t teach in this kind of environment. So the kids—my kids—come with so much trauma. … I was mentally drained. I would cry a lot, just having to call home and hear what students had to deal with at home, and then figuring out why they are short-tempered or acting this way, you never know what these kids are coming with. (NPMS Educator)

[Our kids] see violence, which is why they go to yelling. It works in their community and I try to get teachers to understand, they’re yelling because it works. (Bay Prep Educator)

… But I know for Black kids, growing up in Oakland, Black and Brown kids, education sometimes is a matter of life and death. You know, it’s not anything that we have time to play with. You know we’re losing too many of our kids, and you know, it should be preventable—at least. And this year I’m just sitting here thinking about a student who was buried last week. His mother buried his brother when he was 13 … and I’ll never forget how elated she was at his graduation because we had done it. You know we got that boy graduated and two years outside of graduation—he’s dead. You know in front of his house. And it’s like schools can’t prevent that—but maybe if he was able to go away to college, and stay away he wouldn’t have even been at home. (Bay Prep Administrator; emphasis added)

We see various instances of educators’ racial and class consciousness relative to students’ lives and needs across these quotes. These educators acknowledge, to varying degrees, the role and responsibility of schools and educators to keep children safe and support their well-being. Consider the last quote by the Bay Prep administrator who emphasizes the urgency and gravity of education for their students and speculates what more the school could have done to protect that child beyond the school walls. Finally, the discourse among these educators, like that of the district, emphasizes the need for school and classroom environments to be culturally relevant, flexible, and responsive to students’ emotional, developmental, and academic needs.

Structural characteristics

Educators and staff members identified the needs of their students and families that could be mitigated through structural supports instituted at the respective FSCSs in our study. There were similar and unique structures across the two focal FSCSs. Resulting from identified needs based on student demographics and school neighborhoods, the varying structures illustrate the District’s desire to implement FSCSs with “services [that] meet different needs at different levels” (OUSD Strategic Plan, 2011, p. 19). Table 5 outlines the structural supports in place for students at NPMS and Table 6 lists the structural supports instituted at Bay Prep High School.

Table 5.

North Pineville Middle School structural supports.

Type of structural support	Description
Academic and After School Programs	District-initiatives and resources were allocated to offer tutoring in the community rooms of local housing projects, offering more than academic supports and opportunities for “extended learning.” They also included free snacks and a district-sponsored safe aftercare site for lower-income families who may otherwise not have been able to benefit from afterschool programing.
Computer Lab Access	Parents/guardians had free access to computers and Internet, depending on staff availability, in addition to students’ access to technology through coursework or after school programs.
Family Resource Center (Most Parent Education Workshops occur here)	Parents and siblings had access to a community space at the school with computers and a small library, which is attended to by a Parent Ambassador who can recommend resources to families.
Fitness Classes	Parents/guardians could take free yoga or other fitness classes that were offered by the Parent Teacher Student Association (PTSA).
Free Breakfast Program	All students received a free, hot breakfast or bagged breakfast option every morning before school started.
Health Center	Students and their immediate family members could receive free health education classes, counseling, and medical services from a local health care practice focused on providing linguistically and culturally responsive care.
Infant Play Group	Counselors facilitated a play group for parents/guardians and their young children (ages 0–5 years) once a week.
NPMS Food and Clothing Bank	Families could pick up groceries or clothing from the school site’s pantry before or after school, two times per month.
Parent Education Workshops	Parents/guardians could enroll in parenting classes for a seven to nine-week period; classes are available Saturdays (e.g. 9 am–1 pm) and include topics like parenting skills, housing and tenant rights, cooking, or workforce skills.
Professional Development to Support Students Experiencing Trauma	Teachers engaged in professional development led by trained professionals to learn instructional and classroom management strategies to respond sensitively to and support students who have experienced or are experiencing forms of trauma.
Restorative Justice (RJ) Program	Students could participate in restorative justice circles within or outside of the classroom in order to build relationships with peers and adults at the school site. RJ is guided by Indigenous principles and seeks to address discipline issues in a restorative—rather than punitive—manner.
School is in a Sanctuary District and State for Undocumented Students	Prevented officers from Immigration and Customs Enforcement from entering schools to arrest and/or deport students.
School Uniforms	Students are required to wear uniforms, including black or khaki skirts, shorts, or pants and a t-shirt in the color specified for each grade level (e.g. orange for 7th graders).

Table 6.

Bay Prep High School structural supports.

Type of structural support	Description
Academic and After School Programs	District initiatives, including a focus on improving the academic outcomes for Black boys during the school day, as well as locally or federally funded after school programs provided students with opportunities for “extended learning.”
Bay Prep County Food Bank Backpack Program	Students who sign up received a backpack filled with a two-week supply of nonperishable food items.
Bay Prep County Food and Clothing Bank	Families picked up groceries or clothing from the school site’s pantry before or after school, two times per month.
College Preparatory Programs	Students participated in a range of programs to support their post-secondary learning goals, including assistance with college applications, ACT/SAT preparation, and college campus visits. Programmatic activities are sponsored and managed by local universities, federally-funded programs, or local entities.
Free Breakfast Program	All students could receive a free, hot breakfast or bagged breakfast option every morning before school starts.
Health Center	Up to 700 students per academic year could receive free health education classes, counseling, and medical services from a local health care practice focused on providing linguistically and culturally responsive care.
Mental Health Services	Students could receive free mental health services provided by a local mental health care provider upon referral by a teacher or staff member, or self-referral through a teacher.
Parent Education Workshops	A trained professional offered classes twice per week focused on parenting advice, communication skills, or problem-solving with teenagers or within families.
Restorative Justice (RJ) Program	Students participated in restorative justice circles within or outside of the classroom in order to build relationships with peers and adults at the school site. RJ is guided by Indigenous principles and seeks to address discipline issues in a restorative, rather than punitive manner. High school students can train to be peer mediators to facilitate RJ circles and resolve peer-peer conflicts.
School is in a Sanctuary District and State for Undocumented Students	Prevented officers from Immigration and Customs Enforcement from entering schools to arrest and/or deport students.
Substance Abuse Counseling	Students could receive free counseling services to support them in stopping substance abuse (alcohol, tobacco, or drugs).
Technology Access	All students had free access to computers, Internet, and printers in the school’s library.
Translation Services	Parents could receive language translation services at the school site in Cambodian, Cantonese, Spanish, or Vietnamese.
Vision Services	Students could receive free eye exams and eyeglasses from a mobile clinic focused on vision care; parent consent form required.

Tables 5 and 6 illustrate the programs, resources, and policies at NMPS and Bay Prep that were part of the community schools reform. Below we unpack how educators at the two sites discussed and understood these structures relative to the four characteristics of sociopolitical clarity: (1) race and class consciousness; (2) commitment to equity not equality; (3) concern for the development of a positive school climate to support student well-being; and (4) commitment to providing access to what families need. In interviews and informal conversations with educators, neighborhood racial and class gentrification was repeatedly mentioned in response to questions about shifts in student demographics. An NPMS administrator demonstrated race and class consciousness in an interview when he shared, “most of the students who live here … are really struggling financially” and described how rising costs of living in the area had pushed out at least 10–11 mainly Black families from the school neighborhood. These families relocated to suburban areas with significantly less expensive rent prices but with fewer social services, transportation options, and community supports (Tepperman, 2013).

In response to these rising costs and families’ needs, NPMS decided to require school uniforms. When asked about this choice, the principal pointed to the cost effectiveness of uniforms for families and stated, “ … [With] the differences of income levels, having consistent policies will help everyone feel like they’re equal—that’s important.” He added that school uniforms help students build “identity and connection” with the school and reduce bullying and status evaluations that occur based on clothing: “ …. With uniforms, if we can get rid of as many barriers [like] kids worrying about clothes being dirty and what not … it’s far cheaper.” Here, he argued that school uniforms were less expensive than buying clothing and decreased students’ embarrassment about wearing clothing repeatedly, wearing dirty clothing to school, and the status that came (or didn’t come) with wearing certain clothes over others. The school was also equipped with a washer and dryer that families could access to do their laundry.

Educators and staff members at NPMS and Bay Prep also sought to increase families’ access to affordable food (see Tables 5 and 6). This was an important issue at NPMS due to rising costs of living in the area, the relocation of extended family members who had provided meals for some families, and the school’s location in a neighborhood without access to a full-service grocery store in almost 40 years (Wood, 2018). One NPMS teacher expressed her concern about students’ access to food in an interview:

… Access to health were the biggest things [students needed]—and that encompasses food, clothing, and shelter. Cause I can’t teach in a class where half the kids are hungry, so you need to deal with that. And thank goodness we have the Family Resource Center!

These concerns were echoed in educator interviews at both sites, and educators shared how they encouraged students and families to utilize structural supports (e.g. backpack programs), and in some cases, connected students directly with nonprofits. For instance, the PTSA at NPMS raffled prizes (e.g. grocery store gift cards) at meetings and encouraged parents to support local food justice efforts. Importantly, these examples indicate how educators at both FSCSs expressed their concerns that all of the structural supports recognized and addressed families’ and students’ needs, a key factor for successful FSCD/S implemention (Ishimaru, 2019). These educators worked to structurally attend to the racialized and classed ecologies of opportunity that influenced their Black students’ and families’ lives.

Relational characteristics

We now turn to the relational characteristics at the two FSCSs and how Black students and families experienced them. While discursive and structural characteristics are critical, research suggests that students (individually and collectively) are more engaged and learn better when they have relationships with the adults in their lives and know that they care about their well-being (Winn, 2018). Consistent with this literature, three relational characteristics of FSCSs emerged during our analyses that relate back to the alignment of sociopolitical clarity across the district and schools: (1) interactions with students and families that emphasized understanding and advocacy rather than deficit views; (2) creating spaces for students to have conversations with adults to solve problems (e.g. discuss race and racism); and (3) preparation for life beyond the school site.

At Bay Prep, educators, parents, and students struggled with developing and aligning their sociopolitical clarity, specifically in terms of understanding how neighborhood and school shifts affected the relational work at the school, how to disrupt deficit views of Black students, and how to address difficult issues, like racism. An administrator captured these tensions:

I’ve seen the dynamic and community change at Bay Prep …. people say white kids are coming in from private schools, but there is also a big shift in [the neighborhood] …. the communities are changing …. but you know its either you’re gonna make things happen or you’re not, and there is support here …. you have to engage as a student … into the curriculum … in the activities, and what is being offered here … there are services being dedicated … we’re trying to close that gap by putting more services, more money, more programs geared toward African American students here at Bay Prep … you know we are targeting African American male students for achievement and providing them with support and mentorship, but we are also doing it across the board …. we’re holding that bar up for everybody …. now with restorative justice and making sure that you know there are other avenues to choose from instead of you know suspension … expulsion. There are different things now that you can do to make them accountable … We have some staff members that are great role models and great leaders that are able to reach some of the African American students and have been here for a long time as well … It’s about the relationships you build and there is a lot of relationship building here at Bay Prep happening, which is creating a positive environment for kids to have an opportunity to learn and … gives ‘em some real good life skills, so they can move on into college.

Here the administrator made connections between the changing racial and economic demographics in the neighborhood and school—more white and economically well-resourced people coming into Oakland and Bay Prep and poorer families moving out—and the types of relational and other resources the school has and who it serves. The administrator spoke to the various resources the school offers and the “committed staff” that create strong relationships with Black students and “reach” them with the goal of supporting the kinds of skills that will help them “move on into college.” However, these words suggest a lack of racial and class consciousness about what such shifts mean for the lives of students and the differentiated kinds of relational resources that may be necessary given contemporary and historic inequalities. Instead, the words voice a tension between advocating for equality or equity—between offering supports and holding the achievement “bar up” for everybody versus offering targeted supports for Black students. These negotiations were present across the data at Bay Prep and are visible in this quote where rather than disrupting deficit notions about Black students, the administrator reproduces them in putting it back on the students to “make things happen,” “engage,” and be “accountable.” Unlike the expansive aims of FSCSs, some of the data from Bay Prep also suggest a narrow focus on academic achievement and college preparation, uneven relational resources, and limited concern for students’ and families’ holistic well-being and reducing inequalities within and beyond the school.

In addition, the interview data suggest that Bay Prep’s relational characteristics were more “service-model” oriented than collaborative (see Table 1). Later in the interview, the same administrator talks about relationships with parents at the school in two ways that implicitly fall along racial and economic lines, either through “outreach” to parents to “provide learning strategies for parents and parenting skills” or through having the “strongest PTSA in the entire city … they’re huge on networking, they’re huge in the community …. they raise a lot of money.” In this statement the two sets of parents, outreach or Black parents, fundraising or non-Black parents, operate on the two different sides of a service model system with one receiving and one contributing. As with the material and relational resources this administrator shared relative to Black students, the framing of relationships with parents essentializes Black parents as “in need,” deficient in parenting skills, and recipients of services rather than as collaborative partners.

Black parents at Bay Prep also noted the tensions in sociopolitical clarity at the school and how these tensions played out in terms of the relational resources there:

… You just don’t see the care for students …. Normally, a teacher who wants to see a child succeed will do whatever it takes to see that child succeed, but it seems like it’s easy for them to get an F− or an F+, not my daughter, but other students who come to me …. Teachers are not trying to help them succeed. They automatically want to give them a low grade …. they want to see them fail more than succeed and that’s um, that’s really uh, it saddens me … So I feel like the vision for students to succeed is there but it’s not consistent across the board. I don’t think all teachers have bought into the vision, but I think the principal and counselor are very supportive …. I’m a very active parent, but I think about kids who don’t have active parents, how do they get the support that they need? … I get the info that I need, but some students don’t have that. And I’m dealing with a student like that right now, African American male, his mother just passed this summer. So I talk to him, I encourage him, but he doesn’t have an advocate …. how do those students who don’t have advocates get the support that they need?

In speaking about the relational resources at the FSCS, this parent notes the inconsistencies or unevenness across educators’—the principal and the counselor as opposed to the various teachers—sociopolitical clarity and the relational supports provided. The parent emphasizes how they have had to fight for their child and worries about other children at the school who do not have such an advocate. This parent’s comments echo some of the concerns expressed by Black students, with one student at Bay Prep saying that,

I feel like sometimes the effort to kind of, not necessarily assimilate, but to encourage the Black students who aren’t really into academics and stuff, to you know get into it, can kind of be, just like a token thing …. So, you know when you train a dog you’re like, ‘Oh, I’ll give you this treat and I’ll make you do this trick, you know what I mean? I mean, to a degree. I think that if you come into Bay Prep like, strong convictions or whatever as a Black person, then you will be able to succeed. I mean, the demographics are so different than they used to be, there is majority white people here …. If you are a Black person who is convicted to do those things no matter how they are viewed or whatever, then I feel like you could succeed here.

Like the Bay Prep parent, this student hinted at some confusion about the nature of sociopolitical clarity at Bay Prep, is it to support students’ growth or is it an effort to “assimilate” Black students? At the same time, like the Bay Prep administrator, despite pointing out structural or discursive constraints, this student fell back into language that places most of the responsibility for success on the individual student when they refer to the importance of a student’s convictions. This placing of the burden of responsibility and success on the individual student rather than on the student in partnership with the school is in direct contradiction to the FSCS model and of OUSD’s own vision for FSCSs that seeks to engage, advocate, and be in partnership with students and families. At Bay Prep these relational characteristics often were internally inconsistent, that is, out of line with the sociopolitical vision of the school and district.

NPMS, a smaller school with less racial and economic diversity, also negotiated its sociopolitical clarity and relational characteristics. Distinct from the uneven experiences at Bay Prep, NPMS demonstrates that children indeed benefit—in terms of learning, engagement, well-being—when they consistently have positive relationships with others, routinely feel socially connected within a learning environment (Dryfoos et al., 2005), and when the sociopolitical clarity of educators within a learning environment is in close alignment. One NPMS parent spoke to the relational characteristics of the school by talking about its communication structures and the continued attempts by educators to be in partnership with families to support students’ well-being and success,

What I like is I’m never not going to know about what’s going on at the school. If my daughter, you know, you might have the kid that don’t tell you [what is happening], if my daughter doesn’t tell me, Mr. Coles is gonna call and Mr. Simpson is going to leave a message on your phone. It’s automated. Every week. This is going down this week, this is what’s happening at the school this week. Parents please turn in your slips for this or your child won’t be able to go. Everything is informative here. …. I feel like I’m family here. They care; they go over and beyond. I been called with things my daughter has done that was out of line, totally out of line, but it wasn’t like, “Hey, your daughter is like this. And she’s raised like this, and this is your fault.” It was, “Hey, what can we do?” Yeah, it’s a problem because she did it. But she’s not the problem.” When you can still have some compassion in your heart for the kid that’s acting a fool, that shows you really care.

This parent pointed to the familial climate at the school and the asset based orientation toward students and their behaviors, even when they are less than ideal. While her sentiments highlighted the unique benefits of a small school, they also reflected the positive relational characteristics of FSCSs. Likewise, an NPMS student offers:

I like this kinda family relationship that we have. We all know each other [and] somewhat get along [and] know about each other. … you feel safe. You don’t have to worry about fighting. It’s different from my last school.

This student describes the power of positive relationships as helping her and other students feel “safe” and not “have to worry about fighting.”

The alignment of sociopolitical clarity and its influence on a school’s relational resources again became apparent through the NPMS science fair, one of the school’s hallmark events. The entire student body was required to participate in this fair. Fieldnotes indicate that prior to the fair, the science and engineering teachers spent a good deal of instructional time supporting students in developing their projects and working with them on their presentation skills. During science and/or engineering class periods leading up to the science fair, students shared their ideas, rehearsed their science fair presentations in small groups, and participated in mock question and answer sessions. These rehearsals and pre-fair activities provided students with targeted verbal and written feedback from their instructors and peers. One instructor even invited 8th grade students into a class of 6th and 7th graders the day before the science fair to provide specific pointers on how students could strengthen their presentations, such as adding videos and pictures, and making eye contact with the audience. By allowing students to engage in mock science fair presentations with targeted feedback in varied formats, teachers at NPMS provided students with structures for improving their presentations, facilitated students’ academic identity development, and modeled how scientists share findings (Gomez, 2007).

The science fair was held in the evening, began with a free dinner, and included judges from local STEM-focused nonprofit organizations, community members, and a member of our research team—almost all of whom identified as Black. Students were also required to have at least one adult in their lives judge their projects, which factored into students’ final grades. The night included performances from the school band, children’s science activities, and a step show where students from the feeder elementary school, NPMS’ step team, and members of local chapters of traditionally Black Greek fraternities and sororities performed. Additionally, representatives from the school’s Family Resource Center, medical and mental health services providers, and other community members offered information about free local services.

This is atypical of science fairs at most schools, not only because of the involvement of local community members, but because of the family, medical, and food resources available to parents and the requirement of family involvement in grading students’ projects. However, the science fair at NPMS was not just about developing students’ content knowledge; it was also centered on facilitating positive relationships and interactions with students and families and making clear that every student was held to high learning expectations. In addition, the fair operated with a race and class consciousness that guided how the educators connected families with key resources and ensured students practiced presentation and project development skills that would serve them well beyond middle school. Finally, as these projects were developed in the science and engineering classes weeks prior to the fair, opportunities were created for students to engage in problem solving with teachers’ support and for teachers to continually affirm students’ capacities and debunk racial and gender stereotypes about their abilities.

Pedagogical characteristics

The relational characteristics identified above supported and were the foundation for the pedagogical approaches educators used in classrooms. While many pedagogical characteristics supported Black students in these FSCSs, we highlight three characteristics evident at NPMS and Bay Prep: (1) attention to students’ classed realities that could influence their access to resources for learning; (2) explicit and implicit acknowledgment and debunking of deficit narratives about Black students; and (3) culturally relevant teaching practices (Ladson-Billings, 1995).

One NPMS parent, Michelle, spoke to these pedagogical characteristics relative to the school’s disciplinary practices. During her interview, she was asked to compare her current experiences as a parent to when her older daughter attended the school (prior to becoming a FSCS). She responded:

I did like the old principal, she did seem to care and make changes, and I know what kind of students and parents she had to deal with, but the dynamic of the school totally changed when they got Mr. Simpson and those guys up in here. They [teachers] started caring more for children, and when I say caring, I think the other principal cared, but she did not have the staff to help her care. They were interested in suspending them and getting the bad person out of here, instead of seeing what’s going on with this kid, I think that Mr. Coles and Mr. Simpson look more into the person and figure out if they have a program they can help a child succeed. They want everyone to succeed.

Michelle describes the distinct “dynamic” and disciplinary practices implemented by the newer administration at NPMS, and how it and teachers invested time in trying to work with students through the challenges they may have been experiencing that led to disruptive behavior. As with the previous NPMS parent, Michelle felt that her child was never viewed as “the problem” or “as less than,” instead NPMS was keen to understand the needs of each student, what might be affecting them, and consider the programs or supports that might be beneficial. Michelle views both administrations as “caring” for students, but clarifies that the current administration has a team of educators and a structural and pedagogical design that evidences this care for students. This included NPMS developing an alternative disciplinary culture that put the students’ needs first and maintained a priority of student support, well-being, and success.

Even though the relational and pedagogical characteristics at Bay Prep were uneven, at Bay Prep and at NPMS parents and students spoke of several educators who were warm demanders (Irvine & Fraser, 1998) that maintained a high level of expectation for students’ work without negating the very real issues that may be impacting their behavior, academic performance, and emotions. We see this in the approach of Ms. Johnson, a teacher at Bay Prep, who shares:

When a student gets in trouble, it’s a different type of conversation, it’s not ‘We’re so disappointed, I hate that I have to suspend you but,’ it’s like, ‘What are you thinking? This hurts me when I have to do this. It hurt me to see what you did’ … and for them to hear someone say because that’s kind of a positive-negative, ‘I’m affected by what you did, even though it was negative.’ … It still screams, ‘I believe in you.’ It makes a difference.

These encounters demonstrated educators’ pedagogical efforts at the interpersonal and personal levels to protect students from punitive disciplinary measures as well as a deep investment in students’ identities and realities. Ms. Johnson also expresses a need to protect her students from the realities of the world and shares that the way a teacher talks about students reflects how they think about them:

I call them my sweeties …. I think, if you start using other terms, then you’re gonna start thinking of them in those other maybe negative terms, and that’s not who they are. … [My] thing to them is always, heads up. Heads up. I’m not saying to them, “Have a nice weekend!” That might come out as a second, but my first one is heads up … because when they go out there, you know there’s no protection and I would tell them, ‘I’m a teacher, I’m gonna always protect you,’ to be able to endure some of the adversities you’ll face outside of this classroom [emphasis added].

Here, Ms. Johnson spoke about the need to call her high school students by terms of endearment, terms that are arguably often reserved for younger students. She did so to undo the damage of negative stereotypes about her Black students, ones they face daily at school and in their experiences outside of school.

These pedagogical characteristics were also present at NPMS. Ms. Bryant’s English Langauge Arts classroom was based on positive relationships and sociopolitical clarity about her students and their academic and socioemotional needs. Below is an excerpt from fieldnotes in her class that shows how she cared for each student, recognized and combated deficit narratives about Black students by positively positioning and explicitly referring to them as “scholars,” acknowledged their “wisdom” and offered them opportunities to share it with younger scholars. The field notes below also demonstrate how she engaged in culturally relevant teaching practices that brought students and their knowledge into the curricular activities as well as employed pedagogical and interactional strategies that support students’ academic success and push them to be critical and self-reflective about what they know and how that could be useful to someone younger than them.

Ms. Bryant greets each student as they enter her classroom. She’s checking in with a group of boys, and says to one, “You gon’ be cool today?” They have a brief exchange about a missing assignment, and she promises to email it to him after school. … When I enter the classroom, I notice a female student working on the computer at Ms. Bryant’s desk; she yells out, “Act like y’all got some home training.” These interactions between teacher-student and student-student are interesting to me because to some degree, I am intrigued by the way that students themselves attempt to correct other students’ behaviors … The fact that Ms. Bryant stands in the hall during the passing period to say hello and check in with each student strikes me as her way of showing care for/to students …. Ms. Bryant says to a group of disruptive students, “I just spoke to y’all [in the hallway]—pick a seat where you’ll be productive.” Students get started on the Do Now “Identify three new things that you learned this year that you feel will help you with high school.” This seems to be her way of finding out students’ ideas about what they feel they will need next year as 9th graders … By 11:20, students are sharing out their responses to the Do Now, and Ms. Bryant refers to students as “scholars.” … A few moments later, students are engaged in the next task—“Write a Letter to a 6^th Grade Scholar.” Ms. Bryant explains that she is asking them to write a letter to a 6th grader,” in which you give them your wisdom. What words of advice would you say to them for them to be successful as you move onto high school? What is something that you learned that would be helpful for a 6th grader to understand?”

Likewise, a science and engineering teacher at NPMS, Mr. Coles, used his complementary tools of seriousness and humor to position students as capable of academic success. In addition, he specifically positioned them and their realities as consonant with knowing and doing science and being engineers as evidenced in the field notes below:

Mr. Coles teaches in a standard issue school science laboratory marked by student work stations with built-in sinks. Students are crammed around the stations, others have chairs pulled up to the countertops and office tables that line the perimeter of the classroom. Mr. Coles is seated in the front of the class at the demonstration table where more students are seated … He comments that students expect “credit for stuff you’re supposed to do” and says he doesn’t want to see papers that “have been through some things” or—as he fakes rummaging through a backpack—come out of the “depths of backpacks.” Rather than being ashamed, students giggle in response. He remarks sarcastically, “God forbid if you’re not 100% stereotypical” and “take pride in your work.” He makes the analogy that if somebody had a dirty car, the students would say “you nasty,” yet they are not concerned about the condition of the work they submit. Mr. Coles warns students that, “you [because you’re Black] will be judged on anything you do” because “everyone doesn’t see everybody the same.” Mr. Coles states that he will not accept anything “raggedy” and mimics a student formally and carefully handing in work to a teacher because they realize that their schoolwork should be treated like “important business documents.” He models how he would open his notebook and create this document by stating aloud his name, the date, the class title, and class period on separate lines. He marks taking pride in your work and its presentation as a skill they will “need for the rest of your life.”

Visible in this vignette is how Mr. Coles communicated high expectations for his students’ academic success, and how aspects of his discourse were explicitly or implicitly tied to culture, race, and/or social class and rooted in his sociopolitical clarity. He understood the negative stereotypes his students, as Black youth, may experience. We see this in how he deepened his initial criticism of student work to include a racial dimension—e.g. “God forbid if you’re not 100% stereotypical” and ”you [as African Americans] will be judged on anything you do”—that mocks “stereotypical” deficit-thinking perspectives about Black students. This discursive move supported students’ critical consciousness by presenting an opportunity for them to recognize existing power dynamics and stereotypes as social constructs that they can disrupt. This clarity was also evident in how he created an analogy between raggedy schoolwork and a dirty car that pulls upon his cultural competency in the Black community in referencing cleanliness, especially as it relates to one’s possessions or external appearance. This reference links to a sociohistoric stereotype of Black people as “dirty” or “uncivilized” and their attempts to demonstrate their humanity and morality through fastidious attention to cleanliness despite inhumane social and material conditions (Higginbotham, 1993). His reference in this instance did not serve to dehumanize students or belittle their lived experiences, but reflects his membership within students’ racial and cultural community and to mark practices students may have already had regarding self-presentation as also having relevance to school, science, and career.

Summary and discussion

In this paper, we used the two cases of a full service community middle school and a high school to examine the discursive, structural, relational, and pedagogical characteristics of FSCSs that seek to support Black students’ well-being and academic success and to determine how Black parents and students experience these schools. In looking across two FSCSs, we exposed how the alignment and/or fractures in sociopolitical clarity and its enactment across layers of context and activity affected Black parents’ and students’ perceptions of the FSCSs. We also revealed if and how the FSCSs addressed or reproduced stereotypes and inequalities. Distinct from past empirical studies that examine FCSCs, we demonstrated how FSCSs operate as unique learning environments as well as within broader layers of context that include individuals, cultural practices and communities, institutions, and social discourses.

Our findings indicate that FSCSs must consider their charge not only as one of equity (not equality), but of necessity given the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth. In comparing and contrasting Bay Prep and NPMS, we show how FSCSs—as an innovative model of schooling—may be able to address some systemic and symbolic inequalities in schooling, but their success relies upon: 1) the sociopolitical clarity of teachers and administrators; and 2) the alignment of this clarity across levels of context, from the district to the classroom. That is, it is not enough for the district to articulate anti-deficit notions of students and take on the responsibility of creating FSCSs and providing services for students. This discourse needs to be instantiated into structures, relationships, and pedagogical practices that are enacted in schools and classrooms consistently and systematically. In short, FSCSs must consider their work not as a feel good measure but a necessary endeavor to combat the recurrent miseducation and mistreatment of Black youth in schools and society.

In examining the structural, pedagogical, relational, and discursive characteristics of NPMS and Bay Prep, we also discussed Black parents’ and students’ perceptions of the FSCSs’ efforts to support Black students and families, disrupt inequality, and alter the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth. At the heart of our findings was the importance of sociopolitical clarity and alignment among educators across layers of context—as evidenced in the discourses present in district documents, and from district officials, school administrators, and teachers—and Black students and parents as savvy interpreters of the presence, consistency, and continuity of this clarity. We examined educators’ sociopolitical clarity as centered around four characteristics: (1) race and class consciousness or a shared understanding and solidarity around the racialized and classed experiences and realities of students and families; (2) commitment to equity not equality where equality presumes that each student needs and benefits from the same resources, access, learning opportunities and supports, while equity reflects an understanding that students have differentiated needs to support their success and well-being; (3) recognition of the critical nature of a positive school climate that encourages wellbeing beyond academic success alone; and (4) acknowledgement by the district and schools of the importance of attending to students’ and families’ needs rather than presuming that families’ have resources at their disposal or can access them. Findings also documented how educators discussed the needs of their students and families and the key interventions at the focal FSCSs, including the utility of those services and activities that are comprehensive (e.g. Health Care Centers, NPMS science fair), serve all students, and target specific student populations, like Muslim students or students who may have to wait a long period of time after school for an adult to pick them up.

While our focus here was to present the potential of FSCSs as an alternative to traditional ideologies and structures of schooling and their promise for reducing racial and social inequalities, FSCSs also have their limitations. Some limitations are internal to the work of FSCSs and some are external. We have pointed out some internal limitations of FSCSs in examining the need for the alignment of discourses, structures, relational and pedagogical interactions and practices across institutions, settings, and educators. There are also external constraints. No school can solve all the nation’s problems or those of an individual student or family. Poverty, gentrification, resegregation, violence, and rampant racism and bigotry in American society cannot be resolved through schools alone—no matter how safe or well-recourced schools are, or how well-meaning and well-equipped educators are. Those broader societal problems require ideological and systemic changes that exist beyond the purview of educators, schools, and school districts, but are connected to and influenced by schooling (Carter & Reardon, 2014).

Nonetheless, schools can play a critical role in reducing how students and families experience and are affected by these inequalities by providing access, opportunity, and equitable resources based on respect, reciprocity, and fostering students’ sociopolitical consciousness around systemic inequalities (Galindo et al., 2017; McKinney de Royston et al., 2017; Sanders et al., 2018). The provision of health services, food and job resources, and before and after school supports offer real-time relief to students and families and fundamentally debunks the notion that they are the problem and need to be changed, but recognizes the brunt of structural inequalities on the lives of minoritized youth and families, and the need for social change (Biag & Castrechini, 2016; Sanders, 2013).

There are also limitations in what can be understood from the analyses presented here. Our data sources are confined to those of two schools within one district and are therefore not representative of all of the possible instantiations and nuances of FSCSs as might exist across different communities and cities or of the inequalities that might exist in those locales. In addition, within the two schools and the district that we focused upon, we narrowed our analysis to that of Black students and families and cannot speak to the myriad of other communities and issues that are also relevant to FSCSs and to schooling more broadly. Finally, our data are not longitudinal nor based upon quantitative measures of student or school performance and thus cannot speak to determinations of academic success as conceptualized and analyzed over time or through standardized tests scores. What our analyses do afford are a rich description and insight into the discursive, structural, relational, and pedagogical characteristics and nuances of FSCSs as enacted by dedicated, equity-intentioned practitioners seeking to reduce inequalities and improve the schooling and academic experiences of Black students and their families. This orientation towards seeing what is being done and what students and families attend to as useful and productive for them is no less important (Bartolome, 1994; Saldana & Omasta,~ 2018), particularly if FCSCs aim to disrupt inequalities, intervene in the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth, and support their holistic development and educational success.

Conclusion

A main implication of this work is not to offer FSCSs as a panacea for resolving social inequalities, but to demonstrate the need for district officials, administrators, teachers, and other educational stakeholders and power brokers to move beyond well-intended reforms to consider the ideological and structural nature of reforms, and how they are articulated and reverberate through the social, institutional, cultural, and individual levels of context and activity. Far too often reforms get lost in translation, the necessary elements get distorted, or the inequality being targeted fails to get adequately conceptualized or enacted in structural and practice-oriented ways. Yet, confusion remains when anticipated outcomes do not emerge. Unfortunately, the stagnation or failure of reforms and interventions continues to be placed on students, families, communities, and individual teachers or administrators. This narrow focus of blame serves to confirm suspicions of ineducability or of problems too big to solve rather than expose the uneven or poorly articulated goals, structures, and implementation of these efforts.

In fact, this is precisely what happened in OUSD in the years after the study was completed. While we report on the power and potential of the FSCS model here, the story of OUSD is a cautionary tale. As we have argued, the alignment of sociopolitical clarity across contexts of the learning ecology—district, school, and teachers—and across the discursive, structural, relational, and pedagogical aspects of the focal schools is critical. This alignment was off to a powerful start at NPMS, and to a lesser extent, Bay Prep. However, shortly after our study, many of the district officials, including the superintendent, and school administrators shifted out of and around the district to other schools that had “greater need.” These shifts changed the discursive, structural, relational, and pedagogical alignments at both schools and the district. Such changes are more often than not the kiss of death to any innovation or intervention as they inherently rely upon the goals, sociopolitical clarity, and political will and commitments of individual people (especially those in places of leadership).

FSCSs, like prior reforms, are susceptible to the erratic nature of schooling in the U.S. where stable funding and leadership are elusive, and naïve presumptions about quick fixes and high returns continue to be seductive and sustained, and powerful ideological and structural changes undervalued. Unfortunately, these issues are more rather than less prevalent in school districts where the majority of students live in-poverty and/or come from traditionally minoritized communities. Instead of the FSCS model instigating a long-term shift to a whole child, child-in-context perspective that debunks racial and class stereotypes and radically alters how we think about schools, such reforms may continue to get undermined, and districts and schools return to looking for the next “hot ticket” intervention or innovation model. The work of FSCSs is thus not simply one of equity but of necessity if they imagine the role of public schools is to counter the systemic and symbolic miseducation of Black youth.