Yet time is scant. In Room 10, Rashaun's and Devyn's class, attention drifts as several children develop the wiggles. Teacher Robin Jeffries works to get her students back on task. The room is crowded, with pods of desks of varying heights pushed into the center. Shelves, computers and the platform leading to a reading loft make floor space cramped.
Light is sparse.
Years ago, after vandals stoned the tall glass-block windows, the district covered large sections with brown aluminum. For Jeffries, a third-year teacher, it represents survival. The children groan as their pizza party slips further away. They promise to behave, but the wiggles set in again five minutes later. Sensing another lapse in attention, Jeffries hits a button on a computer.