Still sharp at 83, former Philly schools chief Constance Clayton to receive D.C. honor

Constance Clayton was not permitted to attend elementary school with white students. Later, as a social studies curriculum specialist with the Philadelphia School District, she was accosted by a teacher angry that she dared introduce African American history into course material for the city's children.

On Monday, the former longtime Philadelphia School District superintendent will be honored on the floor of the U.S. Senate by Sen. Bob Casey (D., Pa.) as a citizen of note, as an African American whose contributions have made the state better. A symposium and reception will follow.

Clayton is 83 - sharp, eloquent, formal but warm - and flattered by the attention. Her favorite part of the planned celebration? The third graders of Emlen Elementary in East Mount Airy are boarding buses and traveling to Washington to represent what she is most proud of: her service to children.

"I love that," Clayton said. "It's quite an honor to me."

Serving children has been the theme of her life, and certainly of her superintendency, which lasted from 1982 to 1993, an eternity for the leader of a big-city school district.

"I made every decision based on, 'Was it good for our kids?' " Clayton said. "We had no strikes and we did not have a single deficit. We did not delete music or art."

Clayton is a daughter of the city through and through. She was born in North Philadelphia and educated at Girls' High, at Jay Cooke Junior High, and at Dunbar Elementary, a segregated school at the time, where students learned the poetry of the school's namesake, Clayton pointed out, "in standard English and in dialect."  She has degrees from Temple and from the University of Pennsylvania. She still lives in the city, and serves on the board of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

The former schools chief was a bit taken aback when she received a call at home from a man who introduced himself as "Bob," the senator who said he wanted to fete her. She moved to delight quickly, she said.

"Hers is a great record of dedication to children and to public education," said Casey. "We wanted to highlight her career and her record."

Clayton insists that others share the award - the 170,000 children in the school system when she retired, the 25,000 employees who worked under her, many of them teachers.

"I did not do this alone," she said. "I did not allow people to speak disparagingly of teachers - many of them are in there at 7:30 or 8 a.m. every day, and they use their own money to pay for supplies."

That the honor centers on Black History Month is not lost on Clayton, who said that her path as the first female and first African American superintendent was paved by Ruth Wright Hayre and Robert Poindexter, two standout black educators in the district.

Clayton's grandmother had a saying: Every knock is a boost. Clayton encountered her fair share of boosts.

She told then-superintendent Mark Shedd there was a flaw with what Philadelphia's children were taught: Beyond slavery, they knew nothing of African American history.

"I said, 'The curriculum is incomplete,' " Clayton said.

At Shedd's direction, she organized an African American studies curriculum, then called a weekend retreat for teachers to learn about the new course material. One teacher approached her angrily, pointing to a copy of From Slavery to Freedom, the revered text by John Hope Franklin.

"He said, 'How dare you give us this? Who did you pay to write this?' He said, 'If it had been true, we would have learned it in school,' " Clayton remembered.

She persisted. Later, she would beat out more than 70 other candidates to take over the school system.

Running what was at one point the fifth-largest school system in the U.S. meant that Clayton, who was labeled by some as autocratic, was constantly in the hot seat.

Some of the criticism still amuses her.

On days when closing school was a question, she directed bus drivers to navigate the hills of Manayunk to determine whether the roads were passable. If the buses could make their way safely, schools were open.

"They called me 'No Close Clayton,' " she said, in a voice that suggested she was not upset about the nickname.

Clayton is the last home-grown Philadelphia superintendent. She has reached out to her successors - she had lunch with current schools chief William R. Hite Jr. at the Art Museum, she said - but does not interfere with their work, she said.

But she follows it closely - the one-time early childhood specialist is pleased with a city push for pre-kindergarten. But she has noted with alarm, she said, cuts and shortages in city classrooms - at their nadir several years ago, when many schools lacked full-time counselors and nurses - now better but still not where leaders would like.

Clayton is keenly aware that there are just eight librarians left in the school system.

"Inexcusable," she said. "And I don't know how you delete art and music and have a comprehensive curriculum."

Clayton finds the current national political climate "divisive and chaotic," and it sets her teeth on edge to hear about potential cuts to Title I, the federal program that provides funds to schools that educate children living in poverty. People like to say they're all about children, she said.

"But I'm tired of the rhetoric," said Clayton. "We have to have demonstrated support that they are."

Children deserve resources, she said, a rich curriculum, and a challenging one, Clayton said.

"Who is to say what outstanding contributions our children can make to the city, the state, the United States?" she said.