At one Philly school, ‘Jenks Dads on Duty’ change the dynamic at pickup and drop-off
“The dads are this web of connection to so many homes, so many families,” said the principal. “They’re the eyes and ears, parents making an impact that we can’t.”
In frigid or sweltering weather, in sleet or snow or pouring rain, the dads are there — managing the morning car line, high-fiving students, and keeping an eye on the playground at J.S. Jenks Academy of Arts and Sciences.
Khayri McKinney, father of four Jenks students, wouldn’t be anywhere else than where he is every morning: stationed just off Germantown Avenue in a yellow “Jenks Dads on Duty” hoodie.
“In that two minutes from the car to the door, we’re able to change the dynamic of the day,” said McKinney. “It’s just, ‘Yo, we’re Jenks dads, have a great day.’”
The group, roughly a dozen men — fathers, but also stepfathers, brothers and grandfathers — is a constant, and Jenks principal Corinne Scioli said the impact of Jenks Dads on Duty on the Philadelphia public school in Chestnut Hill can’t be overestimated.
“The dads are this web of connection to so many homes, so many families,” said Scioli. “They’re the eyes and ears, parents making an impact that we can’t.”
Filling a vacuum
The group sprang up in the 2021-22 school year, when students were trying to adjust to new interpersonal dynamics after a year spent learning remotely and schools coped with widespread personnel shortages. Jenks had no crossing guard or school security officer in a year when both were essential.
Scioli tried to fill the vacuum as much as she could, but it was tough.
“I was out there with an assistant principal and a walkie-talkie and stop sign,” the principal said, “and parents noticed and supported.”
A group of men began stepping in every day, stationing themselves along Germantown Avenue, East Southampton Avenue, and Ardleigh Street around the K-8 school. They watched out for fights on the playground, made sure no intruders tried to get into the building, and listened to children and their parents.
Marcus Tolbert was already in the yard every day watching his daughter, now a Jenks seventh grader, when another dad with a clipboard asked him whether he would help out.
“He just started handing out hoodies, and it grew organically from that,” said Tolbert. “It just provides this extra comfort for us, knowing the dads are on duty.”
Marc Bainbridge, stepfather of a Jenks second grader, used to admire the JDOD crew from afar. How cool, he thought when he first encountered them, both for the students and the adults who entrust their kids to Jenks.
“We parents see the hoodies, and know it’s something safe,” said Bainbridge, who recently began volunteering with the group. “I always looked at them and thought, ‘Those hoodies are dope. I want one.’ Seeing those guys, how they interact with people, was so cool. All schools should do this.”
The Dads on Duty are aiming for just that. The group recently presented at a citywide Home and School Council meeting and is working with a handful of school communities to spread the model elsewhere.
From car line to one-on-ones
It was just after 7:15 on a chilly Thursday morning, and the little boy looked dejected, slow to get out of his mom’s car, and drawing out every last step up East Southampton Avenue to the steep stone steps leading into Jenks’ main entrance.
McKinney was on the case.
“Come on, bro, I got you,” McKinney said to the child, adjusting his own knit cap and smiling at the boy. “Come on, I’ll race you!”
The student picked up the pace.
The car line moved quickly, but the dads moved more quickly, directing traffic, running a student the lunch bag she forgot in the day-care van, calling out hellos to parents watching their kids cross the street.
“Oh, it’s the Wonder Twins! Let’s go, Wonder Twins!” McKinney said to two students with blue backpacks. “Good morning, y’all. Have a great day.”
Earlier this month, snow meant a delayed opening. When Scioli showed up, the dads were already there, shoveling. After school, they have an eye on the playground, and on the nearby Germantown Avenue businesses where students might stop after class. The dads also have presented at assemblies, worked with school leadership to check in on student well-being, and spoken one-on-one with students who need someone to listen.
“They just have this incredible level of dedication,” said Scioli. Like all Philadelphia School District principals, she has a limited budget and it doesn’t stretch to encompass all the personnel she’d like to have; the dads provide coverage that other schools can only dream of.
Tangible gains in academics
Jenks students talk to the dads in ways they don’t always talk to the principal or other staffers, they said. The dads have stopped fights, or tipped off staff about playground conflicts that might bubble over elsewhere.
Like most schools, Jenks employs mostly women; the dads fill an important role, especially because they’re a group of mostly Black men in a school with mostly Black students, said the principal.
“For some of the kids, it’s about ‘I’m talking to someone who looks like me,’” said McKinney. “There’s a dynamic of men that’s needed, of fathers, and we’re filling that void.”
The dads’ dedication has meant tangible gains not just in student behavior and safety, but in academics, the principal said. Because Scioli no longer has to be the point person for morning admission, she’s able to focus more on instructional practices.
“They have doubled my capacity to be able to meet with teachers on a consistent basis,” Scioli said. “We’ve been able to move our school, move our data, shift our academic progress, and they’re all a part of that.”
McKinney, whose work-from-home IT job allows him the flexibility to spend time at Jenks daily, said he can’t imagine his life without the group, or his kids’ school without the help he and the other dads are able to provide.
“We have the same mindset: raising our kids, being responsive, being present,” said McKinney. “I love it. This is my identity now, JDOD.”