Reporting Red Hook


One less option for pregnant teenagers, for better or for worse
October 7, 2007, 9:35 pm
Filed under: Stories by Lauren Feeney

This year, for the first time since the 1960s, young women in New York City public schools who become pregnant while still in high school won’t have the option of enrolling in special schools for pregnant students, commonly known as P-Schools. The P-Schools closed their doors for good at the end of the last academic year, and many people were happy to see them go. But others say that the city shouldn’t have closed them without better alternative for pregnant teens in place.

Most administrators, students and advocates agree that the P-Schools were failing the young women who attended them. The four schools did have some valuable offerings, including women’s health classes and flexible schedules that allowed for doctor’s appointments and morning sickness. But the schools had abysmal records. Daily attendance rates hovered at around 48 percent. The P-Schools were considered transition schools, which means that they did not graduate students, and the majority never transferred back to a diploma-granting school. Students that didn’t return to regular high schools either tried to pass high school equivalency tests or simply dropped out.

Representatives from the city’s Department of Education say that new programs created to serve all “over-age, under-credited” students offer better options for pregnant and parenting teens, who often fit into this category because they get behind in school when they miss days due to pregnancy-related sickness and giving birth.

There are about 7000 pregnant teenagers in the city, according to heath department estimates. In recent years, the P-Schools only had around 300 students per year.

The P-Schools were often used as a repository for students who were pushed out of their home schools when they became pregnant, according to Benita Miller, founder of the Park Slope-based Brooklyn Childcare Collective, an organization that offers counseling and advocacy for pregnant and parenting teens.

Samora Coles, now the reproductive health coordinator at the Red Hook Health Initiative in Brooklyn, attended a P-School herself. She says that students often turned to the P-Schools because they were made to feel unwelcome in regular high schools. “Some teachers look at them like ‘oh, you disgusting little thing you’,” she says.

Brooklyn resident Jelysa Roberts attended a P-School from 2004-2005, because at the time, she thought it was her only option. “My school convinced me that that would be the best thing for me, and I didn’t know that I could choose to stay in my home school, so I just went,” she says.

Pregnant girls have the right to attend their regular local schools, according to a 2004 Department of Education regulation. According to Miller, however, teachers and administrators would often encourage students to transfer to P-Schools or drop out, especially if the students were low performers. “The schools deliberately decided not to support them,” Miller explains. “They’re afraid of looking like they’re promoting teenage pregnancy by doing anything to help these girls.”

“There are a lot of things we’ve done to help these students,” says Debra Wexler, a spokesperson for District 79, which administers alternative high school programs. “One of them is recognizing when programs are not succeeding and closing them down,” she says.

While few regret the demise of the P-Schools, advocates such as Donna Lieberman of the NYCLU are concerned about the lack of an alternative. “The Department of Education has a legal obligation to ensure that pregnant and parenting students are provided with full and equal access to both the educational opportunities and the support services that these students need to succeed,” she says. “The city’s ‘pregnancy schools’ provided neither—but in closing them the DOE has not solved the problem and may have made it worse.”

The education department counters that pregnant and parenting teenagers can attend transfer schools designed for all “over-age, under-credited” students, since 75 percent of these students fall into that category. These programs offer smaller classes and more personal attention for students who have gotten off track and are at risk of dropping out. Wexler points out that these schools have a 56 percent graduation rate, compared to only a 19 percent gradation rate for students who stay in their regular schools after falling behind.

But when considering only pregnant or parenting students, it’s difficult to measure the effectiveness of the transfer schools, because no one tracks the educational paths and graduation rates of these students. “We don’t flag students for being pregnant or parenting because of privacy considerations,” Wexler explains.

Advocates for pregnant teenagers see this as a major problem. “The real issue is, they don’t track cause that would mean they’d have to take responsibility for it,” says Miller.

Both Miller and Coles say that the education department still fails to offer pregnant and parenting students sufficient counseling, support, day-care services and assistance in navigating the system. They also criticize the reproductive heath education curriculum, which, if effective, could help prevent teenage pregnancy in the first place. “Right now, the first class about reproductive health—which they call hygiene—is taught in 11th grade,” says Coles. “By that time, they might have had sex thousands of times.”

Coles and Roberts are both success stories. Coles dropped out of high school after her baby was born, but passed the high school equivalency test three years later. Now, at age 33, she expects to graduate from the College of New Rochelle in the spring. She tells young women who come to her for advice to make education a priority. “You can’t support a family on the money you earn from the kind of job you’ll get without a high school diploma,” she says.

Coles was raised by her grandparents, who instilled her with old-fashioned values yet supported her during her pregnancy. She credits them for her success. As for the schools, “they are negligent, and at the same time, they point the finger at the kids,” she says.

Roberts, who turned 19 this past Sunday, now juggles college, work, and caring for her 2 1⁄2 year-old son. “Every girl that has a baby would be able to do that if she had the support,” Roberts says.



Rumors fly that Residents of Red Hook Houses will have to leave after Repair Work
October 2, 2007, 3:58 pm
Filed under: Stories by Tomas Dinges

 Red Hook Justice, PBS documentary The construction headquarters for Kel-Tech Construction lies enclosed in a dusty white patch of land surrounded by 15-foot-high chain linkfences and 16 red six-story publicly-subsidized apartment buildings in the heart of the Red Hook, Brooklyn. Kevin Gallagher, the burly head sub-contractor for the masonry project, has been working intermittently since 2003, when the New York City Housing Authority gave the green light to a $18.6 million dollar, multi-contract repair project. This project promised to clean the exterior surface of all the buildings, do brick-reconstruction work on damaged roof parapets, and conduct roof drainage repair and roof repair in the 26 buildings that make up the East and West wings of the Red Hook Houses.
Historically neglected by city services and skeptical about the competence or honesty of the New York Housing Authority, many of the 6000 plus residents, almost 70% of the total population of Red Hook, doubt the real objective of the repairs being done by Gallagher.
A 26-year-old former resident of Red Hook on parole for drug possession who refused to give her name says that the construction site is going to be turned into a holding cell, “to throw all us into.”
While the New York City Housing Authority did not respond to questions for this article, Dorothy Shields, the current and long-time President of the Red Hook East Tenants Association explains that the construction is a long overdue repair to buildings that were built in 1939. She dismisses people who distrust the New York City Housing Authority and the construction.
She emphasized that trust is vital in this situation. “Some people don’t trust nobody. In this world you have to trust somebody,” she exclaimed.
Vanessa Stanton, an office manager at a nearby community health organization, has reason to be distrustful. She is mystified by scaffolding that contractors put up outside her top-floor apartment a bit more than five years ago, only to take it down at the beginning of this year, without doing any apparent work.
The scaffolding began to accumulate urban detritus in the absence of workers: trash thrown from windows, leaves shed from trees as well as nests abandoned by families of squirrels.
Her roof still leaks, she says, even though she was one of the, “main complainers,” filing regular complaints at the New York City Housing Authority management office in Red Hook.
Shields, the tenant leader, admits discontent among tenants. “It’s true that a lot of people are unhappy with the construction,” she says, confirming an incident in which a woman she described as mentally disturbed, and the contractor described as a “crackhead,” poured boiling water on a bricklayer at 8:30 in the morning.
On any given day, drills loudly break apart old brick which is then thrown into metal dumpsters six-stories below. On the ground the gears of a fork-lift grind with effort and the pungent fumes of liquid tar float hot through the air.
For most people, the construction was not seen to be in their long-term benefit, even it was seen as effective.
Carmen Vasquez, 32, a four-year resident of the Houses, heard that the owners of the buildings, “…plan to take everybody out,” and offer an option to buy for currently employed residents.
“This is a lot of money they are spending on these building. They are cleaning the face of each and every building, each and every roof is brand new, and lot of the bricks with cracks in it,” are getting fixed, she said.
“I don’t think they are going to spend so much money if they are not going to have plans for it,” Vasquez said.
A couple walking their two pit bulls in an area normally covered in grass but now a spotty mess of tire tracks in dried mud declared their satisfaction with the roof repairs.
The 49-year-old woman readily ventured her opinion in Spanish, “They are doing a good job here.” She declined to give her name, citing current legal problems. “When it rained the water ran into my house and filled up my bedroom,” soaking all her belongings. Since the workers began, she has had no water damage.
But, despite the perceived good work of the construction crews, the couple doubts the end-motive for the construction. They have heard many rumors from acquaintances and even heard of the existence of a letter indicating that current residents would receive financial incentives, up to $3000 dollars, for vacating the apartments.
Jose Figueroa, 55, her partner, who has been coming to visit Red Hook from his home in Manhattan for the last six years, explains that the purpose of these repairs is to clean them up for rental to people who can afford the true market price of these apartments.
Publicly subsidized housing adjusts rental rates according to factors like monthly combined income and dependents.
Figueroa cited the skyrocketing value of the surrounding property, and last year’s heavily promoted New York City plan to restructure the remaining active piers of the Red Hook waterfront as evidence of the interest of the city to remove the current residents. Average home and condo values for the Red Hook zip code of 11231 is around $700,000, way above the New York City average of 259,000, and higher than three of four surrounding zip codes, according to 2000 census figures.
Speaking from the battered confines of his smoky, air-conditioned trailer, Kevin Gallagher estimates that his team has laid two and a half to three miles of brick walls. He is eager to finish by November. He is done with Red Hook.
Beyond the chain-link fences, the six-story buildings of the Red Hook Houses sprawl across the landscape interspersed by tall, wispy trees blowing in the breeze and evenly filtering sunlight below. Over the last four years the sounds of construction has given way when the workers leave at 3:00 pm to the omnipresent sound of children playing in the multiple courtyard playgrounds, and occasional gun shots later at night.
The rumors about eviction have been going on for a lot longer, says Jerome Davis, a former resident and sports coach who was raised in the Red Hook Houses.
“The people [in the neighborhood] were saying those same things ten years ago,” he said.

Red Hook Houses 1938