The Friends School of Atlanta

Bringing forward more than 329 years of excellence in Quaker Education

The Then and the Now: A Parent Reflection

I sat in the pews with the other parents and watched as my teenager stepped forward at the 8th Grade Mentor Ceremony during a recent Silent Meeting. As she lit a candle in honor of her final weeks of her Friends School education, a wave of realization crashed over me. It was as if I had had my back turned to the surf, even when I knew I had been staring at it intently all along.

How could she have jettisoned through nine years in the blink of an eye? It was just a split-second ago when she first experienced The Friends School of Atlanta during a visit day. At the ripe old age of 4, she was wearing the tiny clothes I picked out for her that morning, with her hair—still too short and thin to form a single ponytail—pulled back in six different piglet tails sprouting out at all angles of her head like a little strawberry blonde blowfish. When I picked her up after the visit, she couldn’t WAIT to go back. WHEN COULD SHE GO BACK?!?! DID SHE REALLY HAVE TO WAIT ALLLLL SUMMMMMMERRRRR???

The earliest years—with her teeny-tiny classmates holding hands with their big eighth-grade buddies and sitting in laps during Silent Meeting, the line of booster seats waiting like little soldiers near the front door on field trip days, losing teeth in lunch foods, rest periods and head lice and playdates—careened into the now—with lanky, sullen, grown-up-not-grown-up classmates now holding hands with their little Pre-K buddies and offering them laps during Silent Meeting, the line of trail hikers proceeding at individuated paces up the 5-mile trail on the ultimate overnight class field trip, losing patience with adults and all gangly limbs akimbo, school exploratories and acne and group texts.

I have watched intently as my baby blowfish has swum through a sea of SPICES and exploded into becoming a protest-marching, creative-writing, book-toting, animal-rescuing, underserved-representing, K-pop-extolling, still-loves-her-mother-acting young woman, and I am so very grateful to FSA for shepherding us both at all points between the then and the now, for always holding us in a warm Friends’ embrace, and for being the village that it takes to raise a child.

 

By Sarah Rosenberg

About Harmony, Acceptance, and Playing Your Part

Every classroom has its rhythm to it, the people its chord structure, and at The Friends School of Atlanta, the classes have some rich chords. Fifth grade language arts teacher Johnny Pride felt the vibe of those chords the first time he stepped into FSA, when he saw the art on the wall and heard about the philosophy, about the Light Within.

“It was me. I was in.”

Johnny felt the vibe since he interviewed and began teaching for the school six years ago—a bridge, if one were to map out his life in song form. He had been a classroom teacher and then a literacy specialist at The Howard School. Eventually, he wanted to be in front of the classroom again.

From one perspective, FSA seems like an unlikely destination for Johnny, a music industry veteran who once played with the drummer for REM, whose band once opened for The Police and other big acts, who ended up being featured in The Doors movie, and who even roomed with Val Kilmer for a few months during the filming of it.

But from another perspective, Johnny’s landing at FSA makes all the sense in the world. He majored in journalism at the University of Georgia (hence the connection with REM). He wrote for the Atlanta-Journal Constitution for a time and worked for PBS before jumping in the car and heading for California. He headed west to perform and write, songs instead of prose, before family commitments called him back to Georgia. He taught and coached his nephew, who attended Howard, which is how he ended up at that school and, ultimately, FSA.

It’s safe to say that Johnny wouldn’t feel at home at Friends if he taught in a traditional environment where students are tracked and separated by ability. Grouping students together in advanced and remedial classes doesn’t reflect real life, where different people with different strengths and weaknesses need to work together.

True, FSA pushes students as far as they can go. For instance, a few middle schoolers who’ve mastered certain concepts join math or language arts classes in higher grades. But students aren’t segmented into tracks. Teachers, Johnny included, practice what’s known as learning differentiation. They teach differently to different children, depending on their strengths and weaknesses. They also encourage students to teach each other.

“I probably do about four different lesson plans per class,” Johnny said. “All kids are different. They all work together, and what I love about it is the acceptance they have for each other.”

That acceptance builds the harmony and drives the rhythm of learning. “Here I can make learning joyful and fun,” Johnny said. “Students work very hard, but they don’t feel that they’re working hard because they have so much fun. This place allows me to do that.”

Visit Johnny’s class, and you’ll see students constantly in action. They write all the time and read each other’s stories allowed. They learn vocabulary through theater; they dream up and write scripts that use new words or imply them, and the students watching guess what those words are. Students teach students. Like those in the best bands playing the best music, everyone listens, everyone helps, and everyone plays their part.

By Tim Heston

Tim Heston has written for business magazines since 1996. He’s won some awards here and there, but his greatest achievement is being the proud parent of an FSA fifth grader.

Noticias!: Celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month

“Noticias! Noticias!” rang out the news carriers on the third floor of FSA as they scurried from room to room.

On any given day, it’s not unusual to hear such enthusiastic footsteps peddling to and fro on the upper levels of the school. In a place where education is always the adventure, hearing chants in another language may be quite the norm.

For the second year, Spanish teacher Brian Ryu has chosen to commemorate Hispanic Heritage Month by charging his eighth graders with the task of creating their own Spanish-language newsletter and delivering it to the rest of the middle school community. This year’s end result is El Mes de Herencia Hispana, an impressive collection of article summaries entirely written and produced by students.

For Brian, teaching involves reinvention and innovation. He is constantly looking for novel pedagogical ideas to not only immerse his students into the Spanish language, but the many cultures of those who speak it. This activity is one that encourages students to discover the rich culture and history of Spanish-speaking countries and the Hispanic community that comprises one of the largest minority groups in the United States.

“There is a certain awareness around Hispanic culture that is more visible to mainstream America, including our students,” Brian said. “But asking them to dig deeper and explore the historical significance and contributions that highlight Hispanic heritage brings their awareness to a whole new level.”

Hispanic Heritage Month is meant to emphasize the important presence of Hispanic and Latino Americans in North America. Beginning as Hispanic Heritage Week in 1968, it became a month-long celebration in 1988. September 15 was chosen as the starting date for the month to acknowledge the anniversary of independence of five Latin American countries—Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras and Nicaragua—that were all released from Spanish rule in 1821.

It took the Spanish II class about a week and a half to produce the newsletter. This may seem unbelievable when readers first glance the introduction, a succinct paragraph with one central message: “the thing we need above and beyond a united voice is a diverse voice.”

This need to recognize the diverse voices that make up our many communities is the motivation behind the well-crafted language and attention to detail within the newsletter and its production. And for those in need of noticias but unfamiliar with Spanish, the students provide English translations as well as keywords for enthusiasts in search of learning a new language.

Though an article on chocolate may appear rather unrelated to a newsletter dedicated to  Hispanic Heritage Month, one student writer wanted to point out that the cacao bean from which chocolate is made was actually first used by the ancient Olmecs in what we now know as Mexico. In fact, such probing into the history and importance of chocolate was a topic some of the students previously explored in World Studies with Alex Zinnes.

Another student chose to report on Celia Cruz, the Cuban singer also known as the Queen of Salsa. “I never heard of Cruz,” she said. “Before I didn’t know about Hispanic music. So that was cool to research.”

Although Brian did the copyediting for the newsletter, his students were in charge of everything else, from writing to selecting the accompanying photos. Even that task he would have delegated to his students if they had more time. Because Brian’s curriculum prepares students to speak, read and write in Spanish, his former students report that they often feel ahead when they enroll in high school classes. This is no doubt due to assignments like this one that require students to be attentive and mindful to the social significance of their work.

If it wasn’t already apparent, Brian’s approach to teaching is always led by the philosophy that students are the bearers of knowledge. In this instance, these future journalists proved themselves to be skilled in more areas than previously thought. And that, too, is quite the norm.

Click here to view El Mes de Herencia Hispana Newsletter 2017

 

By Malcolm Tariq

No Popsicle Sticks

When Fiona Thompson came to develop the art program at The Friends School of Atlanta, she did so under one important condition.

“No popsicle sticks on construction paper. I teach the visual arts. Respectfully I don’t teach crafts.”

Fiona told this to Waman French, the head of school, when interviewing for the job 10 years ago. And sure enough, look around the art room today, you’ll see no popsicle sticks, or at least none used in a crafty sort of way, with rows and rows of similar-looking works lining the walls. In Fiona’s classroom, stuffed to the gills with art supplies, you won’t find such conformity. You instead find clay figures next to paintings next to a sculpture put together using pieces from an IKEA furniture box—sans instructions, of course.

There’s nothing wrong with crafts; it just doesn’t have much to do with what Fiona teaches. She doesn’t teach art appreciation. The act of appreciation implies a kind of separation, a proscenium between art and its audience. Fiona’s classes have no proscenium.

“It’s not just about what you see in an art book,” Fiona said. “It’s about the visual thinking strategies behind what you see, how you see, and why you feel like you do when you’re looking at art. It’s a unique moment.”

Fiona grew up in a household where inclusiveness and social service reigned. Her father spent time in India during World War II. Then back home in Derbyshire, after retirement, he worked to help recent Indian immigrants find their way within the U.K. She went to college to study art at Bath Academy of Art, taught art in London, then at 21 decided to leave the U.K. and travel. She landed in Egypt, worked at the Schutz American School in Alexandria, and taught art pro bono at an Egyptian school and within the Egyptian community. She wasn’t a post-grad on holiday; she was in the trenches, working and serving.

Life has since brought her to (among other places) the University of Chicago, the High Museum of Art’s Education Department, and then, at long last, to her home at The Friends School of Atlanta. The school’s Quaker philosophy fit Fiona’s perfectly, about channeling the Light Within—with a paint brush, sculpting clay, even assembling IKEA furniture assembled into a new creation—to make the world better.

She teaches artistic fundamentals that involve sophisticated concepts, including main ideas, visualizing, making inferences, perspective. She also applies what’s known as design thinking to problem-solving. In a nutshell, she gives students the artistic grammar not just to appreciate, but to create, perceive, and connect.

In Fiona’s view, artistic concepts are at the heart of humanity, the essence of which can’t be automated. The sensors on self-driving cars can “see,” but they cannot perceive. You’ll find Fiona and her students collaborating with instructors in the 3D printing Innovation lab. The best scientists, engineers, mathematicians, physicists—although they may not realize it, they’re artists and design thinkers too.

Even yours truly, something Fiona insisted after I told her that, well, no, I just don’t have the artist’s muse. She shook her head and dove into a speech I could tell she had given many times before. “I believe everybody can draw,” Fiona said. “There’s no reason why you can’t; you’ve just not been shown.”

Looking at the amazing creations lying about the Friends School art room, I believe her wholeheartedly.

By Tim Heston

Tim Heston has written for business magazines since 1996. He’s won some awards here and there, but his greatest achievement is being the proud parent of an FSA fourth grader.

All Sides of the Picture

photo drivingNancy Bent knows about seeing the world with open eyes. Her father moved the family down south in the 1950s to work as a UPI photographer. He saw it all—the race riots, the protests, the fear, and the strong yet peaceful tenacity of those who stand up for their beliefs.

He spent years as a photojournalist and a television producer in Atlanta, and his experience taught Nancy to see the world in a specific way. You have one picture of reality with two (or more) sides. You see it all, unfiltered, and, with knowledge and empathy, move forward with conviction to do what’s right.

That conviction eventually brought her to The Friends School of Atlanta, first as a mother, then as a board member, and, starting seven years ago, as a school administrator. She’s now FSA’s Director of Advancement and Admissions.  Serving all three roles has given her unique perspective.

It can be summed up in an experience Nancy had as an FSA parent, looking at a child’s drawing posted among many others in the school hallway. The school project had to do with human and civil rights, and the stick-figure sketch was of a little girl holding hands with two moms. At first Nancy thought that her daughter—who, after all, has two moms— had drawn it. This was the mid-1990s, and having two moms or two dads wasn’t viewed quite like it is today.

But her daughter hadn’t drawn it. It was a girl who the year before had teased her, saying, “You can’t have two moms. That’s illegal.”

Teachers and administrators intervened and got the children and parents together. Turns out the girl’s parents didn’t believe what their daughter had said. “Bottom line, the girl was just being mean,” Nancy recalled. “She was 8; it can be tough age. I got it. I wasn’t upset with anybody, and it was all handled respectfully.”

The next year, when the teacher asked children to draw something that showed a human or civil right, that same girl thought of her classmate and friend. Next to the drawing she wrote, “Everyone has the right to have a family.”

The girl learned all sides of the picture, moved forward with conviction, followed her heart, and did what she thought was right.

That, in a nutshell, is a Friends School of Atlanta education.

By Tim Heston

Tim Heston has written for business magazines since 1996. He’s won some awards here and there, but his greatest achievement is being the proud parent of an FSA fourth grader.