Visioning Hope: Embracing Higher Education’s Role With Urban Public Charter Schools

Universities and Public Charter Schools

If it is true that charter schools have the potential “to change the course of public schooling in America” (Barr, Sadovnik, & Visconti, 2006, p. 292), it is critical that universities become more active in collaborating directly with these public schools of choice. Therefore, integral to the reported study is a focus on how these partnerships can ultimately improve PK-12 student outcomes and contribute to high-quality teacher development by preparing educators who can teach every child effectively. The study makes a specific contribution to the literature by focusing on an area of collaboration where there is currently a paucity of research—partnerships between universities, their colleges of education, and public charter schools.

At the time of submission of this manuscript, only four peer-reviewed articles were generated with the combined descriptors of “charter school” and “university” using a comprehensive education reference database. Clearly, dissemination of research on these partnerships is critical in furthering our collective understanding of the potential—and challenge—of university–charter collaboration. Existing partnerships include collaborations with a consortium of university, school, and community stakeholders to develop a charter (e.g., Downing, Spencer, & Cavallaro, 2004; Mehan & Chang, 2011), or the development of urban sites for preservice teachers to diversify the credentialing experience (e.g., Massey & Szente, 2007; Morton & Bennett, 2010). Most common, however, is the role of universities as charter authorizers. Lindstrom (2014) reports that 13 states allow universities to serve as authorizers, though few have stepped up to do so.

As authorizers, universities evaluate charter applications, award and oversee contracts, and assess whether a school is meeting performance goals (Goenner, 2012). Central Michigan University has been a key player through its involvement not only as an authorizer but also in establishing numerous organizations to provide support to expand Michigan’s chartering landscape that has included establishing the Michigan Association of Public School Academies and the Council of Charter School Authorizers (Goenner, 2012). Pennsylvania’s state senate has proposed a bill to expand the role of authorizer to universities, though opponents of the bill contend that university authorizers would “strip the democracy out of the process, by placing authorization in the hands of college officials who aren’t held accountable directly to taxpayers” (Lindstrom, 2014, para. 12). Similarly, Finn, Ryan, and Lafferty (2010) describe a “treacherous political environment” (p. 62), which included threats from local school districts that discouraged universities in Ohio from assuming the role of charter authorizer.

Very few examples exist describing partnerships in which the university holds a school’s charter (e.g., Leslie, 2011; Rosen & Mehan, 2003), which is the case with the reported research. Officials at both the CREDO and National Alliance for Public Charter Schools, which generate studies and compile data relative to charter schools across the country, were unable to identify any databases of university-operated charters or any information specific to these partnerships (D. Davis, personnel communication, April 23, 2014; T. Ziebarth, personnel communication, April 24, 2014). One reason that there is so little peer-reviewed research connecting universities to charters is the degree to which universities envision risk in these partnerships. These risks include potential conflicts with the university’s mission, competition over resources, perceived impact on the reputation of the institution, disruption of relationships with local school districts, and lack of faculty commitment (Mehan & Chang, 2011; Rosen & Mehan, 2003; Wechtenhiser, 2008). The University of South Florida, which operated an on-campus charter school, transferred control of its school to the district after determining that the district had more resources to support the school’s high-need students. Other challenges included disengagement by the COE faculty, diminishing support from campus administration, and disincentives within the university’s structure (Redden, 2008).

Although not widely disseminated, there are success stories of university–charter partnerships. The University of California at San Diego, for example, operates the Preuss School, deemed a success in part due to the direct involvement of faculty from across the campus (Redden, 2008). The University of Dayton operates an on-campus charter, which has been one of the state’s top-performing schools (Finn et al., 2010). According to the school’s website, the university’s role as academic operator includes supporting curriculum development, identifying connections across campus, and facilitating professional development (http://daytonearlycollege.org). The University of Texas system operates 10 charter campuses in a variety of settings including residential treatment centers, shelters, and medical facilities (http://www.ut-ucs.org/).

As is evident from this review, specific research on the number, scope, and effectiveness of university-operated charter schools is limited at best. This study provides an initial framework describing the development of a unique university–charter partnership that serves urban students who are at risk and highlights both the challenges and opportunities that this collaboration has provided for the COE, its preparation programs, and most significantly to the high school students themselves. Its purpose is not to provide a one-size-fits-all partnership model, as community needs, state laws, and university missions and expertise are too unique and distinct for such a framework. What this study offers, however, is a personal insight into how one partnership evolved to create a lens through which others can envision their own journey with public charter schools.

Wechtenhiser (2008) suggests that the “charter sector represents a new and dynamic opportunity for institutions of higher education to advance knowledge and learning” (p. 7). Simply ignoring the growth of charter schools, to avoid perceived institutional risk, can no longer be an option for institutions of higher education (IHEs) or their colleges of education. To transform both PK-12 education and teacher education, new ways of collaborating with a variety of educational partners must be boldly envisioned.

Research on U.S. Charter Schools

As noted in both the public media and national policy, it is becoming more evident that “the political popularity of charter schools is unmistakable” (Frankenberg et al., 2011, p. 1), which makes it critical for higher education to take note of the potential and challenges of partnering with these emerging educational entities. Charter schools are defined as public schools that are authorized by an external agency, with open enrollment that is often determined through a lottery. Charters are designed so that schools have more autonomy in budget, curriculum, scheduling, and hiring due to freedom from restrictive regulations (Bancroft, 2008; Barghaus & Boe, 2011). In exchange for their relative autonomy, charters are accountable for producing specified results in student achievement (Ausbrooks, Barrett, & Daniel, 2005). By design, charters are characteristically governed by a separate board, are smaller in size, and may have a curricular theme or focus (Strike, 2010).

Freed from regulatory micromanagement, proponents argue that charters can more easily develop programs that are tailored to community needs (Lacireno-Paquet, 2004), and can be designed to be centers of innovation and research that benefit children across sectors of public education by generating competition that spurs reform (Finn et al., 2010). However, opponents view charters as part of a trend in educational policy that is restructuring public education in favor of privatization. Fabricant and Fine (2012) argue that the rise of charter schools reflects “an especially vivid and compelling reform lens through which to dissect the disturbing, complex, and competing ideologies, economics, political motives, and community desires reshaping the public sector” (p. 2).

Exploration: 2009-2010

Prior to 2009, the COE had little direct contact with the CHS. When I assumed the role of the COE’s dean, I reinstated the Faculty in Residence program, supported through a course release for the faculty member, served on the charter school’s Advisory Board, and encouraged our field office to consider the charter school as a placement option. Having visited the CHS on occasion and noting that the campus itself was safe, I did not support student teachers’ requests for alternative placements until they had personally visited the school and made contact with their assigned mentor. I had no other direct contact with either the CHS’s staff or students and, like many of my IHE peers, knew little about charter school law and perceived charters as an unnecessary drain on the resources of traditional public schools. I was conflicted between my own experiences and allegiances as a former “traditional” classroom teacher and the university’s decade-long commitment to this particular urban charter school.

During the 2010 academic year, a renewed focus was placed on the CHS due to its identification by the state as one of its lowest performing schools. Although the CHS had this distinction since its inception, the state began making its school rankings more visible as part of its attempted “RTTT” initiatives. As the school’s failures became more evident publically, university administration sought the assistance of the COE to identify causes for the failures and strategies to turn the school around. In the spring of 2010, I reassigned a faculty member in the administration program as the “RTTT Coordinator,” who spent the semester at the school interviewing faculty, observing instruction, and reviewing documents related to the school’s curriculum. The Coordinator had ties to the city, and was therefore personally committed to turning the school around academically. Among her numerous findings was the determination that many CHS teachers were assigned to classes out of their area of certification, special education services were not being provided, curriculum was not articulated with state standards and included duplicative content, textbooks were limited and outdated, technology for instruction was relatively nonexistent, and students were held to very low expectations. In addition, the CHS faculty members were unaware of and therefore not following the school’s improvement plan. As I shared these findings with the university’s administration, and as I worked with the RTTT Coordinator who was very passionate about the students and the school, I found myself becoming more sensitized to the obvious discrepancies between the COE’s and university’s stated missions for supporting diversity and social justice, and what was actually being reflected in practice at this urban school. This year of exploration led directly to increased engagement by the COE and a deeper commitment by me to ensure that the charter school’s students had access to the level of instructional quality one would expect from a partnership with an IHE.

Self-Reflection: Exploration. This evening we celebrated the graduation of the CHS seniors. I don’t think I’ve been to a more raucous event. Granted, the general purpose room at the Center was clearly too small for such an event, as we easily had 75 people spilled over into the entryway who couldn’t find seating in the hall itself. And this was for a graduating class of 15 students! I think the entire city was in attendance. Clearly, each student had invited his or her extended families of grandparents, aunts, cousins, and neighbors. The room was shimmering in color and excitement. And the noise! The students and their families quickly got caught up in a spirit of celebration, each speaker’s comments punctuated by applause and loud shouts of “Amen!” Sitting on the stage, dressed in my formal collegiate regalia, I felt oddly out of place. And I don’t think that I’ve ever felt so White in my life.

Engagement: 2010-2011

After the semester of exploration at the CHS, it became clearly evident that dramatic and immediate changes needed to occur at the school, perhaps most urgently in terms of its personnel. Three primary issues needed to be addressed: eliminating the ineffective teachers and those who were teaching out of their certification area, financially supporting the qualified teachers who were paid significantly lower than any peers in the region, and hiring key personnel in special education and literacy. The position of school administrator had been vacated, which provided an optimum opportunity to assign the RTTT Coordinator to the CHS director position to facilitate the changes needed. Eliminating unqualified or underperforming teachers was more problematic, as teachers’ contracts stipulated that the university was required to give them a year’s notice before they could be dismissed. Therefore, the difficult decision was made to eliminate two non-core areas, which allowed the university to immediately release these teachers from their contract. Others who were teaching out of area were reassigned to study hall and classroom support, such as tutoring, to fulfill the 1-year contract requirements. New faculty were hired in the areas of special education and literacy, core teachers were hired in language arts and math/science, and existing faculty members’ contracts were renegotiated to bring them within the salary range of others in the region. The renegotiated contract included increased expectations for performance and an extended school day.

The new director focused the year on revising the curriculum, including implementing a required reading program that integrated formative assessments to track students’ reading levels and adding coursework in pre-algebra, “science explorations,” and pre-engineering. Teachers were required to submit weekly lesson plans, and curriculum mapping was initiated in the core academic areas. Also instituted was a spring “Junior Academy,” held on Saturdays, to prepare students for their state exam through content review and development of test-taking strategies. Parent involvement was actively sought, and a new parent organization was formed. In addition, the CHS teachers developed a school creed, focusing on the expectation for student success after graduation, and the articulated vision that “Hope Happens Here.” Although not yet entirely reflected in academic rigor, setting high goals and making these goals visible to students would become an important component in positively transforming the attitudes of both the teachers and students.

The COE and university community also became directly more engaged at the CHS during this transition period. The Faculty in Residence program was redesigned to focus specifically on content literacy, an area of need identified by the new CHS director, and other COE faculty members offered expertise through professional development. COE faculty and staff also volunteered to work directly with CHS students in a unique after-school enhancement program focused on technology and career development. A COE student organization assisted in the implementation of the CHS’s first winter dance, students in Engineering served as mentors for the CHS robotics team, the music department opened its library for the CHS choral director, and the institution’s registrar and career services offered their expertise. The COE also provided fiscal support through external funding secured by foundations for specific student initiatives including the debate team and choir, as well as funding to provide students with breakfast and uniforms. The COE also repurposed technology equipment, including “smart” boards, for use at the CHS and used portions of the COE’s end of year expenditures for instructional supplies and textbooks.

Also directly impacting my role as dean was the transition of the CHS governance from the institution’s Higher Education Center to a shared role between the COE dean’s office and the Office of the Provost. The intent of the shared model was to provide the CHS with access to both pedagogical expertise (COE) and administrative support (Provost’s Office). However, tensions soon arose as we attempted to define boundaries between the roles (e.g., would school personnel be considered “instructional” or “administrative”?), and conflicts between structures and policies appropriate for PK-12 education and those of higher education. These conflicts continued to sharpen as the CHS struggled to turn around after a decade of failure.

Self-Reflection: Engagement. The CHS director and I had our weekly meeting today with the Provost’s Office representative. Our discussion was the same as last week: How to hire substitutes within the bureaucratic structure of the university that limits the use of temporary workers, and our battle between the university and CHS regarding students’ lunches. Serving teenagers a cold sandwich and orange every day just is not acceptable. If undergraduate students at the university can be served a variety of hot lunch options, why should the university’s high school students be treated any differently? We were interrupted twice by student ambassadors, anxious to speak to the director about the faculty members from special education who were due to arrive for a tour. The distraction from the ongoing bureaucratic battles was welcomed.

Transition: 2011-2012

The central change during the year of transition was the hiring of a new CHS director, who had previous experience in an urban charter school. The director focused on improving instructional practices through regular observations of the teaching staff, developing a mandatory course for juniors centered on preparation for the state exams, and integrating the Common Core across the curriculum. Also critical to the CHS was the hiring of a dedicated social worker, whose goals included reducing persistent tardiness and creating the school’s Student Alternative Center, which was used in lieu of suspension so that students’ academic studies would not be disrupted in instances of disciplinary action. The school’s vision of “Hope Happens Here” became emphasized through the new director’s imperative that “Failure Is Not an Option.”

The COE’s involvement continued to include the shared governance with the Provost’s Office, budgetary support to fund initiatives or materials, and reassignment of a faculty member as the Faculty in Residence to provide personalized and targeted professional development support of the teachers. Specific professional development in the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) fields was also identified as one area of focus, and included the involvement of both COE faculty and the staff at the university’s STEM Center. Although not explicit to the charter school’s mission, an emerging interest in STEM was further supported through a large private donation that funded the creation of a state-of-the-art STEM classroom at the Higher Education Center, to be used primarily by the CHS. The COE also continued to assign secondary education students and administrative interns to the CHS. Unlike the past, however, student resistance to their assignment to the CHS due to perceived concerns with safety no longer appeared to be a factor, and a former student teacher was hired at the CHS in a full-time teaching position at the end of the term. It is possible that, as the COE faculty members themselves became more involved at the CHS, their own changing perceptions regarding the benefits and value of working at this urban site began to impact how they presented the CHS to their students.

Also key in this year of transition was directly involving the CHS director on the COE’s Executive Advisory Board. This constituency-based group consisted primarily of representatives from the traditional PK-12 sector, who might otherwise have viewed charter schools with suspicion at best and, most dramatically, as direct competitors to their schools or districts. Because of her sincere enthusiasm and passion for quality urban education, and the compelling stories she was able to portray regarding the CHS students, the director convincingly swayed the Board’s perceptions. These perceptions were also transformed when we were able to share that, for the first time, students’ scores had significantly improved on the state’s annual exams. Although this is only one metric of academic success, these increases signaled that “hope” was indeed happening at this urban school.

Self-Reflection: Transitions: We had the ribbon-cutting ceremony today for the new STEM classroom. It was a highly publicized event, attended by the donor and his family, university administration, CHS personnel, and of course the media. The CHS robotics team was also there, displaying the trophies they had won at last year’s robotics competition (fifth in the country for their division!). As we transitioned into the classroom itself, CHS students and faculty were ready to demonstrate the uses of their multiple video screens, “smart” boards, and 3D printer. The students themselves were part of the team that designed the classroom, and it was obvious from their interactions that they already “owned” this space. Amid the excitement of today’s celebration, I can’t help but worry. Will we be able to secure the resources necessary to fully train the teachers in the use of this classroom and continue to update the technology? Will students be fully engaged with the resources in this room, or just be observers in the learning process? Then I look closely at the mathematical equation that a student is solving on the two-sided interactive board, an equation that I myself cannot solve, and I worry a little less.

Transformation: 2012 to Present

From initial engagement to substantive transformation, the COE’s involvement and commitment to the CHS were slowly evolving, and with it my role shifted from observer to active advocate for change. This evolution presently can best be described as transformational, within both my personal perspective and also in very concrete ways in the structural relationship between the CHS and COE. Specifically, in the fall of 2012, the CHS was restructured again and this time folded directly under the COE. This meant that the CHS was no longer considered by the university as a “grant” program under the Graduate School, but instead as an academic endeavor whose mission was best matched with that of the COE. Although subtle, this distinction is critical in enabling the CHS to more fully realize its academic mission and potential.

From a logistical standpoint, moving the CHS directly under the COE has had a substantial impact on the operations of the dean’s office, specifically in terms of staffing time devoted to realigning the CHS budget, handling personnel, responding to annual audits, managing the website, supporting the integration of technology, and complying with state laws ranging from non-profit eligibility to school lunches. As my staff became more engaged, and as they saw the direct impact they were having on the success of the school both fiscally and academically, their own personal investment and commitment to the CHS also transformed.

Academically, programs continue to be developed at the CHS to align both with a renewed focus on preparing college- and career-ready students and engaging them in initial explorations with STEM-related curriculum. Two STEM teachers received “Project Lead the Way” training and are incorporating courses in pre-engineering. It is anticipated that, once the CHS has completed the alignment of its curriculum based on state standards, a more specific vision to create STEM-focused instruction can be considered in collaboration with other academic units on campus. “Zero hour” classes are offered before the start of the school day to provide extra time for mentoring or simply to catch up on homework. “Eighth hour” courses after school provide time for enrichment classes and clubs as well as required time with content teachers for those students not meeting course standards. A “Failure Is Not an Option” course has been developed and required of all juniors focusing on goal setting, test preparation, and the solidification of content required for the state exams. Included in this course is the development of individualized achievement plans, through which students track their own academic progress and set future goals. While they continue to be assigned to the CHS for field placements, COE students are also engaged at the CHS by facilitating book and video gaming clubs, mentoring the annual winter dance, tutoring in literacy, and participating in a new “grit” program facilitated by an interdisciplinary team from the CHS, COE, Provost’s Office, and College of Arts and Sciences. The weekly grit program immerses students in experiences to foster critical qualities including perseverance, curiosity, optimism, and self-control (e.g., Tough, 2012). In addition, COE students’ former reluctance to be placed at the CHS for their field experiences has transformed to one of full commitment, perhaps best illustrated by the fact that the majority of the CHS teachers, as well as support personnel, are now alumni from the university.

It could be suggested that moving the CHS more formally into the COE served as a stabilizing agent for the charter’s structural transformation. The COE became a visible and active advocate for the CHS both within the university and throughout the community. COE faculty members and administrators worked with CHS personnel to develop curriculum, provide targeted professional development, and create linkages between the CHS and other institutional entities. As it was wrapped into the daily operations of the dean’s office, the CHS was able to put aside its former status as a temporary “grant,” and view itself as a permanent and integral part of the College itself. Also critical was the shift from a dual governance model between the COE and Office of the Provost to a singular reporting structure, eliminating administrative confusion and providing CHS personnel with clearly identified and stable governance for all of the school’s operations.

Not only were the structures and partnerships changing at the school, however, but my own perceptions were transforming as well. No longer simply statistics or data to report to my superiors, the staff and students at the CHS had become individuals with incredible, personal, and compelling stories of success and hope. I saw in these students and their faculty a passion for their heritage through their dance, which soared with individual expression and freedom of spirit, and the excitement of self-discovery as students shared their proposal for a classroom hydroponics system or their latest reiteration for a robotics challenge. Perhaps most profoundly, listening to seniors’ capstone portfolio presentations gave me insight not only to personal tragedy and obstacles but also to how the CHS and its staff had transformed their lives in ways that were both tangible and inspirational.

Self-Reflection: Transformation. I just returned to my office from a Martin Luther King, Jr., celebration at the student union on campus. A group of my CHS students had traveled to campus to perform. I am so proud of them! Their presentations included recitation of poetry, excerpts from King’s “I had a dream” speech, and some music ranging from pop to blues. The highlight was clearly the dance choreographed and performed by D’Markus. I was astounded. He and Tamara simply floated through the dance with such power, grace, and expression I didn’t dare to look away. I think we were all elevated during those moments they were on the stage. In a strange way, it seemed to be a final memorial for Dameon, the sophomore who died in a house fire earlier this fall. The balloons that the students had released in his honor on that cloudy autumn afternoon, caught in the silence of the wind as they danced upward and out of sight, reminded me of D’Markus and Tamara when I saw them perform today. I wonder if they also sensed the connection? I got a hug from D’Markus when the performance had ended. I hope that what I am providing to him and his classmates can be half as valuable as that simple gesture is to me.

Exploration to Transformation: A Model for Collaboration

One of the primary purposes of this inquiry was to document my personal and professional journey into a university–charter partnership. Four themes emerged from this journey’s reflection: exploration, engagement, transition, and transformation. Although not intended as strictly linear, these themes build upon each other and provide a model through which others can apply lessons learned to their own inquiry and partnerships.

A first step in the reported collaboration was one of exploration. Specifically, it was critical to gather all relevant data, from multiple sources and constituents, to clearly and accurately determine the current state of the existing partnership, including its strengths and challenges. In this partnership, the degree of focused exploration was conducted by an expert from within the COE who understood both the academic and administrative structures of successful schools and the very unique cultural contexts of the community in which the charter school was located. On a personal level, this stage was critical to me as both a researcher and participant as it allowed me the opportunity to explore, and confront, my own perceptions and biases. These biases included issues of the legitimacy of public charter schools and, more profoundly, my perceptions of race in relation to my role within the community.

Based on data collected during the phase of exploration, increased engagement characterized the next phase of the collaboration. This included decisions made regarding how to engage with the charter school, and with whom the engagement should occur. Initial key roles included the RTTT Coordinator, who transitioned into the role of school director, as well as campus administration and the COE Faculty in Residence. The engagement of CHS constituents was critical, including the charter’s faculty, students, and parents. If changes were to occur at the school, it would be through their active engagement. Widening the circle of engagement, and building a culture of commitment to success, ensures that key constituencies are informed and that collaborative decision-making can occur. Engagement also occurs at a personal level, as we confront our own roles and responsibilities and how they align within the partnership.

Increased engagement and collaborative commitment allows the formation of the next phase in a partnership’s evolution—transition. It is through transitions that the difficult decisions can be made taken regarding personnel, administrative structures, academic focus, and vision. Based on a clear sense of engagement and shared commitment, partners can be bold and take risks. During the period of transition, partners can identify the next steps in bridging what was, to what can be. Personal transitions are also made, as one becomes more engaged as a partner—and not just an observer—to the change process. These transitions can be difficult, however, as they force us to deeply reflect on our own past practices and the values that these decisions represent.

The final theme emerging from this model of collaboration is one of transformation. Transformation is not an end point, however, but the stage in the partnership where action turns to advocacy. This is embodied both in the actualization of academic goals and structural relationships, and also in how we personally perceive ourselves as integral agents in the process of change. For me, the stage of transformation occurred when I confronted how I was impacting the partnership, and the responsibility that I had to advocate for the school’s success with constituents both within and outside of the university. This advocacy led to the administrative decision to structurally move the charter school into the operations of the COE. Advocacy also included using my position to seek others across disciplinary boundaries to lend expertise to the school’s curriculum and enhance academic rigor for our students. The process of transformation is never complete, however, but instead informs future exploration to ensure that the partnership continues to adapt, grow, and evolve.

Next Steps: Keys for Successful Partnerships

One question answered through this reflective study, at least for the institutions involved in this particular and unique partnership, is whether there is value in partnerships involving higher education and urban public charter schools. Clearly, the reported partnership had a profound and positive effect on the faculty and students at both institutions. Such partnerships can offer critical insight into the education of urban youth for preservice teachers and administrative interns, through diverse placements that are safe and of quality. By their intended nature, public charter schools offer venues for implementing and studying curricular innovation that can then inform instructional practices in “traditional” public schools. The direct collaboration between universities and public charter schools can also provide the profession with a model for deep, focused, and purposeful engagement.

As illustrated through this study, one of the implications of the findings is the importance of time in the development of the relationship between higher education and the partnering school. This is particularly critical when working with a public charter school, as misperceptions and personal biases regarding the role of charters may impede the relationship. These perceptions and biases need to be purposely recognized and examined before the relationship can be fully realized. One way to counter the impact of perceptions (and misperceptions) is to directly involve constituencies in the experience itself, including members of advisory or governing boards, community members, faculty, and students. Change within complex organizational structures takes time, but can happen when individuals are open to learning more about each other through a shared commitment to quality programs, exceptional faculty, and engaged students. Knowing that you are making a difference, and seeing the direct result of actions on students’ academic lives, can be a profoundly powerful experience.

Also key to the success of the partnership is a shared system of values. In the reported study, both the institution and the COE had articulated a mission and goals that were inclusive of diversity and community outreach that were consistent with, and set the framework for, the partnership with an urban charter school. More critical than a stated mission, however, is how its corresponding values are actualized in practice and policy. Challenges will persist when there are contradictions or resistance to what is articulated in institutional policy and the actual implementation of those policies or mission outside of the walls of the institution.

When making the decision whether to fully engage as partners with an urban public charter school, an IHE should ultimately consider a series of questions to ensure that this endeavor has the potential for success. For example, what form will the partnership take? How do state laws impact the scope and limits of the partnership? Are all constituencies, including the COE faculty, committed to the partnership? What are the consequences on existing partnerships with “traditional” public schools and districts? Do key individuals have the time needed for the endeavor to be successful? What, if any, are the financial risks? Careful consideration of these issues before entering into what could be a controversial partnership is critical so that all involved fully understand the potential obstacles and risks, as well as the potential rewards. As suggested by Baxter and Nelson (2012), although the risks of collaboration are real, “it is surely a greater risk . . . to disengage and retreat in the face of change” (p. 28).

Concluding Thoughts

The outcomes resulting from this study include increased understanding of the charter school movement and its potential to inform university–school partnerships, changes in the ways that educator preparation programs view public charter schools and their role within PK-12 policy, and effective ways in which COEs can fully engage with schools serving diverse and/or urban populations to impact the achievement of students at risk. In addition, this work highlights the dearth of research that currently exists regarding specific university–charter partnerships and, more specifically, with partnerships in which universities are responsible for operating the charter. As a primary outcome of this study, I hope to challenge readers to embrace and envision new possibilities for partnerships with public charter schools that have the potential to reform the preparation of teachers and how practices are collaboratively conceptualized.

Before embarking on this unique university–charter school collaboration, I thought that I had all of the answers to solving the challenges of ensuring quality education for all students. Through this reflective inquiry, and by becoming immersed in an institutional and cultural setting with which I was unfamiliar, I have come to the humble realization that we as teacher educators know more about the questions than we do about solutions. I also realized that transformative change takes an extraordinary amount of time, and that students at risk cannot afford to wait.

Self-Reflections: Conclusion. Today the graduating seniors presented their capstone portfolios to the CHS Advisory Board. We were provided with a notebook chronicling what one would expect to find in a portfolio of a high school senior: examples of best works, narrative essays on future goals, copies of college acceptance letters, recommendations from teachers, logs from community outreach, and certificates of achievement. What the students actually presented, however, was a PowerPoint documenting personal goals and obstacles, impact of their favorite teachers, and what being a student at the charter school meant to them in deeply personal ways. Interwoven with their collegiate goals and photos of prom were stories of abuse, homelessness, and abandonment and how these had been overcome. Time appeared to be suspended, and only the students and their stories moved through the afternoon. In the quiet spaces between the tears and the photos, it occurred to me that it wasn’t the curriculum mapping, the state standards, or even the technologically rich classroom we were sitting in that really made the difference for these students. The most valuable thing that they had been given was hope.