Monday, Jul. 25, 1949
New Orleans Eye Opener
New Orleans has plenty of public schools, but they are mostly run-down and in need of major repairs. With many families preferring parochial or private schools for their children, the school board has not put up a new building in 25 years.
From the outside, the Beauregard grammar school on busy Canal Street seems as antiquated and drab as any. Inside, its floors gleam with wax polish; its walls are freshly washed. Built for 500 pupils, it expects to house 650 this fall; last year it had to turn down 300 applicants from other parts of the city. The man responsible for Beauregard's high regard is 33-year-old Principal Joseph Salvador Schwertz.
When Schwertz took over in 1942, Beauregard was a dirty, dilapidated place. His predecessor had kept the toilets locked to prevent pupils from writing on the walls. Enrollments had dropped to 384, and many parents had sent their children to the parochial school across the street.
Parents' Clubs. Soft-spoken Principal Schwertz, a product of New Orleans schools himself (before going to Loyola University of the South), soon began to change things. He wanted a playground, and went direct to Beauregard parents for the money. Before long, he had enough to cover the muddy schoolyard with all-weather asphalt. Then he set up tennis, badminton and volleyball courts. For the youngest kids, he put in a basketball court with baskets five feet off the ground.
There were a lot of other things Schwertz wanted. Instead of waiting for the school board to dribble him the funds, he kept going to the parents. Members of the Beauregard Mothers' Club flocked to meetings just to keep up with his new schemes. The fathers formed a Dads' Club.
One paper drive, organized by the mothers, raised enough money to buy Beauregard the first telebinocular (for eye tests) and Audiograph (for hearing tests) in any New Orleans public school. Among the first 65 children tested, Schwertz found 38 who needed glasses or other eye treatment, and several who were being handicapped by deafness.
No Report Cards. When Schwertz told the parents' clubs that he wanted a remedial reading class, the dads and mothers quickly agreed, though no other public school had one. They bought him a projector to show documentary movies in class, a camera so the school could make movies of its own.
Kids should work to learn, Schwertz argued, not to get A's or B's. So he did away with the old system of report cards. Then he abolished automatic annual promotions. His pupils, he declared, would advance as fast or as slowly as they were able. In the fall, each child would start off each subject where he had ended it the year before, regardless of what his classmates were doing.
Some parents protested. How would they know what grade their children were in? Schwertz replied that they wouldn't, but that was better than promoting kids whether they could handle the work or not. After a year's trial of the plan, the mothers voted unanimously to let Principal Schwertz carry on.
Children's Chance. Last week, though school was closed for the summer, Principal Schwertz was still busy in his office, working on his latest scheme. He wanted Beauregard to be the first U.S. grammar school to have its own radio station, to give the children a chance to broadcast their own historical dramas, music, and student forums.
After watching wide-eyed for five years, the New Orleans school board had decided to chip in $2,000 toward a broadcasting studio. The dads had promised the rest: a 10-watt transmitter, a tape recorder, two turntables and a record library. They figured $3,000 was not much to raise for the man they call "the best damn principal in town."
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