Booth vs. Board of Education

By David Hill

Cordia Booth looked nervous. It was a cool August evening in the Mile High City, and once again Booth--an 8th grade science teacher at Hill Middle School--found herself in the first-floor boardroom of the Denver Public Schools administration building, waiting to make her pitch. This time, she had company: about 45 supporters of her proposed charter school. The board had turned down the charter school several times before, and each time the Colorado State Board of Education had ordered the district to reverse its decision. Booth had even filed a lawsuit against the district, claiming that it was breaking the law by ignoring the state's ruling. But the district had argued that the state charter school law itself was unconstitutional, in that it gave a state body control over a local school board. And there the matter stood, tied up in the courts, with no resolution in sight. Booth's hopes of opening her school in the fall were fading fast.

Would the school board change its mind tonight? Probably not. At a meeting in April, board member Lynn Coleman had made her position on the matter clear, telling Booth, "I have a problem with you taking public dollars to experiment.'' None of the other board members had publicly supported the proposed charter institution, which Booth has already named Thurgood Marshall Middle School, so it seemed unlikely that they would do so tonight. Still, Booth was optimistic. About 20 advocates for the school had signed up to speak; perhaps their words would make a difference.

At 7:20 p.m., the board members--four women and three men, including superintendent Irv Moskowitz--took their seats at the front of the room, and the meeting came to order. Following some routine business matters, Booth was informed that she and her supporters--parents, teachers, students, and community members--would have 15 minutes to make their statements. Booth, a handsome woman with a deep, resonant voice, had planned to speak for about three minutes, but now she elected to forfeit her own remarks so that more voices could be heard. At the appointed time, five students--all girls--lined up next to the podium. One by one, they pleaded with the board members to change their minds and approve the charter school. Eleven-year-old Beatrice Talavera could barely reach the microphone, but she spoke clearly and eloquently, looking each board member squarely in the eyes as...