enrolled at Overbrook, and nearly 500 were suspended at some point during the school year, racking
up nearly fifty assaults and twenty weapons or drugs charges. The educational prospects for students
are similarly dismal. On the SAT, Overbrook’s average hovers more than three hundred points below
the national average, with more than three quarters of students in the bottom 25 percent in the country.
Nearly half of all students who start high school at Overbrook will never finish: the graduation rate is
just 54 percent.
In the hopes of turning this tragic situation around, a corps of talented, passionate young educators
has arrived at Overbrook from Teach For America (TFA), the renowned nonprofit organization that
sends college graduates to spend two years fighting educational inequity as teachers in some of the
most disadvantaged schools in the country. TFA is filled with givers: research shows that the vast
majority of teachers join to make a difference in students’ lives. Many come from privileged
backgrounds, and they’re determined to help students who are less fortunate. As one anonymous
teacher put it:
I knew throughout my life that I wanted to do something where I help... Social
justice issues burn within me and the fact that so many students have been so
viciously failed by the school systems in this country is infuriating and
invigorating. I want every child to grow up able to make choices... education
can be an equalizer... it’s a justice issue, and by joining TFA I saw a way to
help make it my issue too.
In the past twenty years, more than twenty thousand teachers have worked for TFA, making
tremendous strides toward promoting educational equity. But sheltered lives in suburbs and sororities
leave many teachers dramatically unprepared for the trials and tribulations of inner-city schools.
In the Overbrook hallways, the school’s massive difficulties fell hard on the shoulders of a
twenty-four-year-old TFA neophyte named Conrey Callahan. With white skin and blond hair, Conrey
stood out in the halls like a sore thumb: 97 percent of Overbrook’s students are African American.
Conrey—a dog lover who lives with Louie, the mutt she rescued—grew up in a cozy Maryland
suburb, attending a high school that was named one of the best in the country. Calling her a ball of
energy would be an understatement: she runs half-marathons, captained her high school soccer and
lacrosse teams, and competed for six years in jump rope competitions, making the junior Olympics.
Although her intellectual prowess led her Vanderbilt professors to encourage her to pursue history,
Conrey set her sights on more practical matters: “I set out to make a difference, improving education
and opportunities for kids in low-income communities.”
But Conrey’s idealistic dreams of inspiring the next generation of students were quickly crushed
by the harsh realities of arriving at school at 6:45 A.M., staying up until 1:00 A.M. to finish grading and
lesson plans for her Spanish classes, and days marked by breaking up fights, battling crime, and trying
to track down truant students who only showed up for two days of class in an entire year. One of
Conrey’s most promising students was living in a foster home, and had to drop out of school after
giving birth to a child with developmental problems.
Conrey was constantly complaining to one of her closest friends, an investment banker who
worked a hundred hours a week and couldn’t grasp why teaching at Overbrook was so stressful. In an
act of desperation, Conrey invited the friend to join her on a school field trip. The friend finally