In this time where teachers are being overburdened and education itself is under attack, where propaganda and lies are being elevated and facts, science, and diverse examples of literature are being suppressed, it’s more important than ever to speak of schools where something very different occurs. Where not only critical thinking but compassion and the wisdom and freedom of young people is fostered.

 

Yesterday, I attended the celebration of life of Dr. Dave Lehman, who died recently. He, with his wife, Judy Lehman founded the Lehman Alternative Community School (LACS), a public secondary school where I was lucky enough to teach for 27 years. Dr. Dave was the principal from 1974-2004. I attended the event as a grieving colleague not as a reporter or chronicler. I didn’t get permission from all the wonderful organizers and speakers, so I can’t mention their names or quote exactly what they said. All I can attempt is to somehow discover and reveal, to you and myself, my feelings about Dr. Dave and the school.

 

The speakers evoked in me so many memories. I was reminded how Dr. Dave sang to us, or more characteristically, led us in song and joy. In fact, all during the afternoon, whenever I looked around me, I was surprised by memories. Time itself took on new meaning. A former colleague shared with me their own experience of this. We might recognize how then influenced now. But what about the “reverse?” How is now influencing then?

 

Here we were, people spanning over 50 years of history at LACS. For me, right over there was a student from my first year of teaching and another from when I retired. There was one who went with me to Toronto to study theatre and one who went whale watching near Boston. There was one who helped create a replica of a Paleolithic art cave or read John Paul Sartre. They were 15, 16, 17 then, are 50 now. 50! They have their own children now in the school. How does who they are now illuminate who they were then? Or who I was? Or am?

 

I was reminded how successfully the school served as a place where everyone concerned, young people and adults, students and teachers, administrators, counselors, and janitors, secretaries and nurses, were allowed and supported in taking responsibility for educating and being themselves. We were learning how to be compassionately aware of our role in creating a community in which we and others could thrive together.

 

I was reminded that Dr. Dave often spoke about relationships and community as being the heart of a school and education itself, so our school was structured accordingly. Some examples: Each student and staff member had a family that met twice a week to plan and support their education. There was a weekly all-school meeting (ASM) where democracy was taught by actually making decisions about the school. There were committees to help plan the ASMs, clean and beautify the school, give support to diverse groups, take ecological action, and mentor new students. Students had choices in what courses they took and input into what was taught. The course material often grew out of student questions and concerns. Students themselves voted to require, as part of their education, 60 hours of community service.

 

I got to the school after having left teaching for a while and drifting from one job or area of interest to another. Then a friend told me about an opening at LACS, and I went to an interview. It turned out all the diverse experiences that I had had, all the courses I had taken and subjects that I loved were exactly what the school needed. Before teaching at LACS, I didn’t understand the underlying themes in my story. I did not know the feeling of being both centered and capable of helping others on a daily basis. But then I did.

 

During the event I kept thinking: how does anyone start such a school? How did Dr. Dave do it? Where did the vision and dedication come from? The persistence? Confidence? He didn’t do it alone, of course. I mentioned his wife, Judy, who ran the office and was like a mother to so many of us. Once started, he recruited an amazing core of educators, ready to give their hearts and enormous amounts of time to the job and with little financial renumeration. Most were so committed to helping young people that, for many years, they gave up part of their salaries in order to increase the number of staff and variety of courses.

 

And through the first 20 years or so, the school was frequently questioned, doubted, and even attacked by administrators and sometimes residents of the area, for being too different, not fitting into their ideas of what a secondary school should be or what young people were supposed to be. But not often by students and parents. For many years, there was a long waiting list to get into the school; potential students had to choose to attend. Dr. Dave was a great protector. He so capably worked to protect the school and all of us while our education continued.

 

And he taught us about change. That it was life itself. As one speaker pointed out at the event, he didn’t let us ever get too attached to seeing or doing things one way. For example, he tried to change the 45-minute class structure to 90 minutes, to allow for longer teaching periods and increased involvement in learning. However, after a yearlong trial period, the students voted down the change. And Dr. Dave, instead of getting upset, honored the wisdom and choice of students. Now, some 90-minute classes remain but most are 45.

 

And maybe most of all, Dr. Dave cared about us and for us. He taught us a language of caring. One example: after I had a difficult surgery, he came to my house to help with my recovery. We talked philosophy, and he helped me think about something other than pain, something uplifting. He did such things for all the staff, as well as students. When doors of such deep honesty and heart are opened, they don’t close so easily. A model for how to better live in friendship with life itself is created.

 

That’s what this school did for so many of us. Uplifted us. This is what education is about. This is what leaders could and I think should be. I was lucky enough to have known him, to have worked with him. And to have worked and shared with so many people, so many young people and older ones. Such an amazing group of colleagues; such an amazing assortment of students. What a gift.

 

*Photo by Rebecca Costello.