‘Privilege begets privilege’: The lines of the Penn Alexander catchment create ‘surreal sense of apartness’ in West Philly
As a student in Philly, I felt unsafe at school. I've made sure my daughter won't feel the same.
In a world riven by different points of view, parenthood seems to be the rare common experience. The desire to nurture our children is a phenomenon that often transcends cultures, politics, and personal histories.
My oldest child is 4 and she will be starting kindergarten in 2023. Like lots of parents, I’m anxious about what comes next. How will she adjust to a more structured environment? Will she make friends? Will she connect with her teacher?
But unlike many other Philly parents, there are things I don’t worry about.
I don’t worry about whether my daughter will be safe in school. I’m not concerned about her witnessing a fight, or seeing kids use drugs, or being subjected to violence. Nor am I concerned about the quality of the instruction she’s going to receive.
Those are big statements for a parent in the School District of Philadelphia to make. But my wife and I are very fortunate — we live in the Penn Alexander Catchment area, a defined area in West Philly anchored by a high-quality public school. Our school receives a direct operating subsidy from the University of Pennsylvania that amounts to $1,330 per student annually.
Penn Alexander seems to be a wonderful place. Attendance rates are high — 94% of enrolled students go to school regularly, 86% of the children can read at their grade level or better, while 76% meet or exceed expectations on math tests.
» READ MORE: The Penn Alexander effect: Is there any room left for low-income residents in University City?
For comparison, at the elementary school I attended back in the early 1990s — Henry H. Houston School in Mount Airy — only 28% of kids can read at or above their grade level; just 15% are proficient in math. As a second grader, I witnessed fights and often felt physically unsafe. Later, when I was at a different Philadelphia school, a friend was expelled for smoking weed in the bathroom. We were in sixth grade.
Academically, Houston is more representative of schools in Philly than Penn Alexander is. District figures indicate that only one-third of kids in Philly schools are proficient in reading at their grade level, and less than one-quarter demonstrate grade-appropriate skills in math.
Penn Alexander is a scarce resource. And like all scarce goods, it commands a premium. In an environment where one’s address dictates whether one’s child can attend a quality school, identifying the price of an excellent public education becomes easy.
A cursory review of sales data available through Zillow reveals that in-catchment homes sell for $100,000 to $300,000 more than similar homes in the neighborhood. It’s not surprising that many parents in the catchment have well-paying jobs and advanced degrees. Privilege begets privilege, and the opposite is also true: Poverty at home contributes to truancy and behavior challenges, which are telegraphed into schools by traumatized children. There’s a racial component to the inequity: 73% of kids at Houston are Black, while 70% of kids at Penn Alexander are white or Asian.
Privilege begets privilege, and the opposite is also true.
The reality produces a surreal sense of apartness in the neighborhood; homes visible from my stoop sit outside the catchment. Children there reside literally feet away from accessing one of the best schools in the city, but they may as well be on the other side of the state.
But the scene isn’t an entirely hopeless one. All of Philadelphia’s children deserve a quality education. One way to help make progress toward that goal is by improving our brick-and-mortar assets — our old school buildings in need of remediation and repair. The opportunity is present in the form of the School District’s facilities planning process, which is underway. And the catalyst may be the $1.1 billion in American Rescue Plan Act funds the district has been promised to receive over three years.
Today, our aging schools are like an old car. One can spend an entire paycheck on engine leaks and a grinding transmission and find that, over time, owning an old car is more expensive than owning a newer one. Philly is in the driver’s seat of a $4.5 billion lemon, which amounts to the district’s entire requested budget in fiscal year 2023. Leaks, lead remediation, outdated and inefficient boilers, and brick pointing (capital expenses) all sap the district of money that could be spent to hire more teachers and enrich the overall learning environment for children (operating expenses). And yet, only $415 million has been earmarked for capital improvements in the coming year.
Instead, more resources should be committed upfront to improving facilities. That may mean retrofitting some buildings, building new ones, and, yes, razing exceptionally poor facilities. Over time, a newer set of buildings will mean that less of every available dollar will go toward maintenance and more will go to teachers and programs.
There are lots of differences between Penn Alexander and Houston. Many of those differences are the result of factors beyond the ability of the district to change — whether a child has a stable home, or the concentration of guns in different neighborhoods. But at least one difference sits squarely within the district’s realm of responsibility: the age and condition of the school buildings themselves.
Penn Alexander’s beautiful facility was built only 20 years ago. Houston, meanwhile, is nearly a hundred years old. That’s an inequality we can do more to address.
Ahmed Moor is a World Bank consultant and a committeeperson in the 46th Ward. He lives in West Philadelphia.