The New Juan Crow in Education

Zero-Tolerance and Exclusionary Discipline

Simon (2007) argues that, beginning in the Johnson administration, U.S. leaders began to exploit the fear of crime. The actions subsequently facilitated the implementation of federal zero-tolerance policies, such as the 1994 Federal Gun-Free Schools Act, whichrequired a mandated 1-year expulsion for students who brought a firearm to school (Cauchon, 1999). At the local level, zero-tolerance policies soon expanded to include non–weapon-related and non–violence-related discipline issues (Gorman & Pauken, 2003; Henault, 2001). Although advocates of zero-tolerance policies claim that they address student misbehavior, two reports conducted by Children’s Defense Fund (1974, 1975) conclude that exclusionary discipline practices are associated with lower academic success and higher juvenile delinquency.

Nevertheless, schools have adopted punishment as a means of maintaining order, hidden behind the guise of student safety (Welch & Payne, 2010). These forms of discipline disproportionately target students of color (Advancement Project, 2010; Kim, Losen, & Hewitt, 2010; Skiba et al., 2011; Skiba, Michael, Nardo, & Peterson, 2002). In participlar, Skiba and colleagues (2011), find that in middle school, African American and Latina/o students are more likely to receive office discipline referrals, when compared with White students. In addition, students of color are more likely to receive harsher consequences (Skiba et al., 2011). Similarly, Welch and Payne (2012) found that schools that have higher proportions of African American students report to more often automatically expelling or suspending students. Various studies establish a connection between exclusionary punishments and negative academic outcomes, which include failing classes, grade retention, negative feelings about school, and not completing high school (Fabelo et al., 2011; Nichols, 2004; Schiraldi & Zeidenberg, 2001). These outcomes reduce the opportunities a student has to pursue higher education and increase student chances to serve prison time (Krueger-Henney, 2010).

High-Security School Environments

The argument for implementing a high-security school environment is to improve school safety through zero-tolerance punitive policies and practices (Brady et al., 2007; Casella, 2001; Schreck, Miller, & Gibson, 2003). Even though national rates of school violence have declined (Dinkes, Cataldi, & Lin-Kelly, 2007), high-security school environments continue to increase, which entail a growing presence of police officers, surveillance cameras, and metal detectors in high schools (Dinkes, Kemp, & Baum, 2009). In particular, the growing presence of police officers in schools has stemmed from governmental grant incentives informed by a tough-on-crime position (Kipper, 1996; Stefkovich & Miller, 1999). When examining New York schools that implemented a school–police partnership, researchers find that the partnership schools are overcrowded, suspend students at higher rates, have lower student attendance rates, have larger percentages of students of color, and receive less local funding (Brady et al., 2007). Moreover, the schools that implemented the police partnerships also experienced a decrease in attendance, an increase in suspension rates, and an increase in reported noncriminal incidents. Research finds that increased security measures result in negative school atmospheres that result in students feeling alienated and hopeless due to inconsistent enforcement of rules, a lack of due process in punishment, and overly harsh punishments (Bracy, 2011). Combined, these findings suggest that high-security environments can drive students to disengage from school.

The authors contend that although low-income and middle-class schools may experience a high-security environment, low-income schools run the risk of becoming militarized. Although, militarization of public schools has been conceptualized as military recruitmentand the aim to develop strong positive feelings about military activities and services in poor working class youth (Galaviz, Palafox, Meiners, & Quinn, 2011), the present study builds on Giroux (2006) analysis of a shift from viewing student bodies as social investments to threats of security. In particular, the authors contend that a militarized school environment engages in practices of overpolicing that frame students as potential criminals. The Department of Defense 1033 Program allows for the transfer of military weapons for use in K-12 public schools (Fowler & George, 2014). In California, more than one dozen school districts allow campus officers to carry high-powered rifles. The Los Angeles Unified School District alone received 61 assault rifles and three grenade launchers from the Department of Defense in 2014 (Fowler & George, 2014). In these settings, a tough-on-crime position not only justifies these practices but also makes it more likely that students will be suspended or expelled (DeVoe et al., 2005; Gottfredson et al., 2000; Kupchik & Monahan, 2006). Within the present study, three school sites were in a district that participated in the program.

Given the high-security and militarized school environments experienced by Mexican American students, Pinnow (2013) concludes that administrators construct a gang problem. As a result, teachers and administrators engage in surveillance practices where they expect Mexican students to commit criminal acts. Thus, top-down surveillance policies can result in criminalizing practices. Beyond in-school criminalization, Rios (2011) coins the concept of the youth control complex (YCC), which refers to a web of institutions that utilize punitive policies and practices to monitor, stigmatize, and control Black and Latino youth. In the present study, the authors engage with the YCC by examining how school policies and practices result in a culture of control and implications for educational pathways.

Inequitable School Resources

In addition to punitive measures, Latina/o students experience inequitable access to resources in schools. In particular, California is plagued with school segregation, which results in 89% of all Latina/o high school students enrolling in schools within six out of 58 counties (Orfield, Kucsera, Siegel-Hawley, 2012; Rogers, Oakes, Medina, Valladares & Terriquez, 2007). Moreover, 51% of Latina/o high school students attend high-poverty schools (Rogers et al., 2007). Similarly, 35% of Latinas/os attend overcrowded high schools, which is more than twice the proportion of White students (Rogers et al., 2007). Latinas/os are also more likely than Whites to attend Program Improvement schools and experience a shortage of qualified teachers (Rogers et al., 2007). Finally, 65% of Latina/o students attend high schools that do not have enough courses for students to participate in a college preparatory curriculum (Rogers et al., 2007). Overall, California Latina/o students experience inequitable access to institutionalized resources, which limits the opportunities to prepare academically for college. Instead, as noted above, Latinas/os primarily access high schools that criminalize and do not prepare students for a postsecondary education.

Critical Race Theory in Education (CRTE)

CRTE is an interdisciplinary framework that challenges dominant ideologies found in educational theories, policies, and practices (Solórzano, 1998). Solórzano (1997) identifies five tenets of CRTE. The first tenet centralizes race and racism as permanent and endemic but acknowledges the intersection of race(ism) with other forms of oppression. As such, the authors include the critical perspective of Alexander’s (2012) NJC within their study. The second tenet challenges dominant ideologies and aims to disrupt race-neutral notions that dominate educational systems. By engaging with the second tenet, the authors include a focus on the inequitable distribution of financial and human resources between and within schools, as it relates to Latina/o student access to educational opportunities (Oakes, 2004; Rogers et al., 2007).

The third tenet entails a commitment to social justice, to work against racism and other forms of subordination. Thus, the authors co-construct the research process with participants by using critical race grounded theory and photovoice while being reflective about reciprocity (Malagón, Pérez Huber, & Velez, 2009). The fourth tenet values experiential knowledge and recognizes the experiences of people of color as critical to understand subordination. Tenet four informs the methods, which centralize the educational experiences of Latina/o students and teachers. The fifth tenet calls for researchers to use an interdisciplinary perspective, to include the “historical and contemporary context” when considering racism and other forms of subordination (Solórzano, 1998). Therefore, within their study, the authors consider the historical implications of Jim Crow and the relationship with current inequitable schooling contexts.

School Culture

School culture guided this study to account for school contexts. As a relationship exists between school culture and climate (Miner, 1995), the authors utilize the conceptualization of Acevedo-Gil (2015) who merges Schein (1985, 1996), Steele and Jenks (1977), and Rodríguez and Brown (2009) to define school culture as “a set of actions informed by the intersections of school structures, climates, and individual agency” (p. 39). As such, the authors define school structures to include the history and policies of both the school and the local community. However, school culture intersects with school climate represented by the widespread standards, attitudes, and practices enacted by educators within the school and classrooms. Finally, they define individual agency to include the “ideologies, perceptions, experiences, and actions” of individuals within the school (Acevedo-Gil, 2015). By utilizing school culture and climate, the authors examine the simultaneous efforts of educators to establish college-going and school-to-prison pathways.

Panopticon

Finally, Foucault’s (1995) notion of power as embedded in everyday interactions and relationships informs the authors’ understanding of control, punitive policies, and practices that exist in schools. Foucault (1995) argues that mechanisms of control, such as the panopticon transmit power to bodies of subordinate people. The panopticon refers to an all-seeing model of power and the perfect technique for discipline, given that it allows for permanent surveillance and internalization of control. Samuel Bentham designed the architecture of the panopticon prison in the 18th century and allowed a single guard to observe all prisoners at the same time, while the prisoners could not see themselves or the guard who stood watch (Dobson & Fisher, 2007). Central to these notions of power and control is punishment, given that it is a way to exercise power through “deprivation of liberty” (p. 232). Thus, power, control, and punishment provide an avenue for a multilevel analysis to examine how institutions such as schools and prisons are working together to reproduce a capitalist system that privileges a group of people by making others subordinate.

Research Sites

Once institutional review board (IRB) approval was obtained, the authors implemented purposeful sampling (Patton, 2002), where the purpose is to discover, understand, and gain insight. Thus, the authors chose a sample from whom the most can be learned and selected five research sites, which included one charter high school, one alternative high school, and three comprehensive high schools within California. Alas High School (Alas HS), the charter school, had a student population of roughly 240 students where 67% were Latina/o. The alternative school, Fields High School (FHS), enrolled 120 students, 60% of which were Latina/o. The three comprehensive schools included United, Academies, and Miller. United High School (UHS) had more than 700 students, where 50% were Latina/o. Academies High School (AHS) had a student population of about 1,600 students, 83% of whom were Latina/o. Miller High School (MHS) enrolled close to 2,100 students, where 18% were Latina/o. The school sites were situated in three separate school districts, one of which included two of the comprehensive high schools (UHS and MHS) and the charter school. The authors selected a range of sites to understand the various experiences within different school settings. In addition, the authors included MHS due to its lower percentage of Latina/o population and of students receiving free/reduced lunch. The goal was to understand if different schools, within similar settings, had access to different resources.

Participants

This qualitative study used interviews and photovoice as methods for data collection. In total, the researchers interviewed 15 students, six teachers, and one administrator. Recruitment of student and educator participants involved a network sampling method (Delgado Bernal, 1997, 1998; Gándara, 1995) to identify eligible participants. Professional networks allowed us to contact potential participants who work as high school teachers and administrators in urban settings in California. To recruit students, the authors identified and contacted directors of school programs or nonprofit organizations in urban setting in California who worked in the school sites to obtain permission to recruit students.

Procedure: Interviews

The researchers conducted two rounds of interviews with 15 Latina/o 12th grade students. The first round entailed semistructured interviews (Wengraf, 2001). Questions emphasized how students understood the culture and climate present at the school by examining how school discipline is managed (e.g., What are some of the things that get students in trouble?), how students perceived the academics at their school (e.g., Does your school offer the classes you need to meet your goals?), and the school resources available to support students (e.g., What are some of the resources your school has that supports students with learning?). Moreover, the first interview sought to understand the goals and aspirations of students (e.g., What do you think you will be doing in five years?). At the end of the first interview, the authors provided participants with a digital camera and asked them to document the school culture that they experienced during their schooling. In the second round of semistructured interviews, they used photovoice (Wang & Burris, 1994) and asked students to consider school culture and climate to explain the meaning of the photos they collected (e.g., Please describe what you see in the image you captured.). Photovoice allows participants from marginalized communities to reflect about the concerns and/or strengths of their community but moves beyond reflection and toward action to attempt to affect change (Wang & Burris, 1994). Thus, participants chose images that represented the culture and climate present at their school as well as their schooling experiences.

They also conducted one round of semistructured photovoice interviews with six teachers and one administrator at four of the sites. Prior to the interview, the authors provided the educators with a digital camera to document the school climate they experienced in their daily routines. Interview questions centered on contextualizing the school culture and student experiences and having the educators elaborate on their photos (e.g., In what ways do you believe this image is connected to issues of resources, student discipline patterns, or student academics in your school?). Finally, due to a time restriction from the participants, the authors conducted semistructured interviews with one AHS teacher and one administrator. In the case of the administrator who oversaw school safety, the authors utilized photos taken by student participants to ask questions about the school context. The use of interviews and photovoice allowed the data to provide a rich understanding of the school culture that established both college-going and surveillance contexts.

Data Analysis

Because CRGT was the guiding methodology, the data analysis process entailed working with the participants as coresearchers (Smith, 1999) who documented their lived experiences (Krueger-Henney, 2013), triangulation of the data sources (Cohen & Manion, 1986), and three levels of grounded theory analysis (Corbin & Strauss, 2008). With photovoice, the authors included participants as coresearchers who analyzed photo data. As Smith (1999) explains, coresearcher participants reduce the hierarchical dynamics within the traditional researcher–researched dichotomies. Once participants took photos to represent their experiences within the school, they provided the first level of data analysis by elaborating on the significance of each image. In addition, as the authors had different perspectives in the data, which included interviews with teachers, one administrator, students, along with their meaning making of the photo artifacts through photovoice, the design of the study allowed for triangulation. Triangulation allowed the authors to map out and explain “the richness and complexity (of the context) . . . by studying it from more than one standpoint” (Cohen & Manion, 1986, p. 254).

After completing preliminary data analysis with the participants and gathering all sources of data, the authors conducted three levels of grounded theory data analysis (Corbin & Strauss, 2008). They conducted separate sessions of open and axial coding to select and name categories present when analyzing the data. The authors then met in person for peer debriefing and to refine the axial codes, which entailed making connections between categories, while considering institutional processes. Finally, they met to conduct a collaborative round of selective coding they identified as core categories to answer the research questions.

Educator Ideologies Influencing School Culture

Findings revealed that the individual ideologies of administrators served to shape the messages that students received from the school culture. As a result, the messages stratified the postsecondary possibilities of students. Although all teacher participants focused on the strengths of students, which allowed them to establish college-going climates within classrooms, the larger school culture, shaped by administrators, utilized a deficit perspective of students. Thus, in three of the five school sites that enrolled a majority of Latina/o students, the school culture entailed lowered expectations.

For example, Justin, who attended MHS, took a photo that captured the school “principles” in Figure 1. MHS enrolled the highest proportion of White students (22%) out of the district and only enrolled 18% of students who identified as Latinas/os (contrary to the three school sites in this study that enrolled from 1% to 3% White students). As such, MHS expected students to learn and succeed. The principlesconsisted of the following expectations: (a) positive expression: by using words to express themselves and encourage each other because all deserve to be heard and respected; (b) honor: the voices, beliefs, and personal space of each other because what is play or affection to one person can be harassment to another; (c) focus: commitment to keep each other focused because excelling in education cannot happen if students are disengaged or distracted by noise and side conversations; and (d) community: collaborate to build a supportive community because a culture of connection and support makes all stronger. Collectively, the principles aimed to encourage respect, understanding, commitment, and a sense of community. The message offered by the MHS principles was positive and conveyed goals of both community and excelling academically.

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Figure 1.

Guidelines that detail students and staff expectations at MHS.

Justin and Sergio made the case that MHS was a better school with more structural resources (a recently built field with track and a swimming pool) and opportunities compared to other schools in their community, like UHS and Alas HS. MHS was not the designated school closest to home for Sergio or Justin, but their parents knew that MHS was the best school in the district and requested a transfer.

Contrary to the principles of excellence at MHS, Susie, a student at UHS, captured the rulesof respect in Figure 2. The UHS rules of respect consisted of the following five themes: (a) safe: that includes walk, don’t run in all areas, be sober, use appropriate, nonoppressive language, keep hands, feet, and objects to self, use materials and equipment appropriately, report unidentified visitors, get adult help when necessary; (b) proud: participate in class/extracurricular activities, wear school-appropriate attire, respect others property/space, encourage others, clean up, responsible/relevant use of technology; (c) equitable: offer help to those who need it, give and receive feedback, ask for help when in need, allow others to learn, negotiate challenges and resolve conflicts, understand needs of others, work with those different from you, encourage others; (d) communicators: speak your truth, one mic: listen carefully, step up and step back, use media/technology to communicate, ask good questions, report necessary issues/problems, resolve conflicts through communication; and (e) team players: be engaged and participate, be on time, follow through with word, resolve conflicts through communication, plan and prioritize to reach goals. Although the rules of respect encouraged respect, understanding, commitment, and community the skills used to convey these points included “be sober,” “use appropriate nonoppressive language,” and “wear school-appropriate attire,” among others. Thus, the message assumed that students would not be sober, would use oppressive language, and wear inappropriate clothes, unless otherwise reminded by the expectations. Whereas MHS educators used the principles to uplift the students to work together, the rules of respect at UHS framed students from a deficit perspective.

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Figure 2.

Rules of respect that details students and staff expectations at UHS.

Establishing New Juan Crow in Education: Inequitable Resources and Culture of Control

Within schools, inequitable resources and a culture of control emerged as two key elements of the New Juan Crow in Education. Inequitable resources entailed a lack of both financial and human resources that resulted in schools not providing foundational educational opportunities. The findings also revealed a culture of control that educators enacted through policies and practices, which aimed to keep students under surveillance and control student actions. The combination of inequitable resources and a culture of control influenced students’ academic achievement and led to student safety issues.

Inequitable resources

To exemplify the inequitable distribution of resources, the authors focus on UHS. Ms. Lopez, a history teacher at UHS, explained that the new superintendent in her district framed underresourced schools in a deficit perspective. She explained, “They are calling us ‘failing’ but the reality is we are struggling because of the population we have and the lack of resources.” Schools that struggled academically were assumed to be failing; however, Ms. Lopez reframed this misconception and explained that her school needed more support. She continued,

We’ve been asking for a new building for a long time. We finally got Measure F passed and we started working with architects three years ago. Now they are saying, “No, we are going to do a call for intense support and it’s open to charters so everybody will turn in their proposals.” It’s like, “Now that we have the money you’re interested in us? We have been asking for support you have never given it to us.” Now all of a sudden we are a failing school and we have to compete with a charter? Our biggest worry is that charters don’t have to take our kids.

Initially, the district had agreed to provide support to UHS, and district officials created a taskforce that made plans with architects about the design for a new building. Once the money was obtained through an approved city measure, the district changed its position, and obtaining funding became a competitive process between all of the schools in the district—including charters. Figure 3, taken by Francisco, a student at UHS, shows a historic arc that in the past was the entrance to the school. However, the arc was enclosed by a bar fence because it was not seismically safe. Despite the efforts to keep students from being under the structure, if an earthquake were to occur, the structure could topple over the short fence and injure nearby students. The examples by Ms. Lopez and Francisco reveal the inequitable distribution of financial resources, given that all schools would have the same opportunity to pursue the funding. However, charter schools did not serve all student populations, including newcomer1 students, which would lead these schools to submit more competitive applications.

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Figure 3.

Historic school arc fenced in due to being seismically unsafe.

As seen in Figure 4, Ramon, a student at UHS, shared a photograph of the school football field. Ms. Salazar, the coach for the cheerleading squad, explainedduring an informal conversation that the football field was too short for regulation games; this meant that several home games were forfeited. In addition, Ms. Lopez shared that UHS did not have a track or baseball field. This meant that students in the track team ran laps on the street. Ms. Lopez provided more context on the safety implications of the inequitable resources, “Last year a student was shot as he was running track. He was going around the school. A 4.0 students—really great kid—got shot in the leg because there was a drive-by shooting.” Thus, the absence of a track field also resulted in a safety issue when a student was shot because he was running laps in the street. Regardless, the inequitable funding policies would not address such safety issues.

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Figure 4.

Football field at UHS that is too short to meet game regulations.

Moreover, UHS lacked other institutional resources. The school had no library, only one counselor to serve more than 700 students, and lacked general education college preparatory classes. Unfortunately, despite institutional shortfalls, school district officials opted to take a meritocratic approach where all schools competed against one another for funding. Thus, the meritocratic approach could exacerbate the inequitable access to educational opportunities. Ultimately, findings established that all four school sites that served a majority of Latina/o students maintained various instances of inequitable educational opportunities.

Culture of control

In addition to inequitable resources, data analysis revealed a culture of control and the multiple layers, which it entailed. Angela, a student at Alas HS, alluded to a culture of control, as she described the late policy. She explained, “If you are late to school they call your parents. If you are late after lunch, they call your parents. If you are late two minutes, they call your parents.” Beyond the schoolwide policies, she shared how rules became instituted in her classes at any moment. She argued, “Another one that is actually a rule right now is that you can only go to the bathroom one time in the entire week because the boys were drawing in the bathroom.” The exemplars above, demonstrated the intersection between control and punishment. Whereas the consequence for students who were late was a phone call to parents, in the classroom, the use of the restroom was controlled and restricted where students were only allowed to use the restroom during class once a week.

Similarly, Ms. Garcia, a teacher at Academies High alluded to the culture of control by examining how surveillance resulted in negative academic implications for students. She explained:

It’s so ironic because the gates essentially lock people in. They try to get all the kids in the school and they don’t want them to leave, which only makes people want to leave. Then they shut the lights and lock the gates . . . Lock-up and lock-down is not an approach that any school should take. I lock you in all day and then I lock you out. Because the kids feel like I’m required to be here and then I’m disposed of . . . “We used you, we got what we needed out of you. Okay we can put this on our records, now leave.” They feel that disposal—they feel that culture.

As depicted in Figure 5, the gates that Ms. Garcia referred to served as a practice within the culture of control both to keep students in and out of school. As seen in Figure 5, during school hours, the gates served to contain students, as if incarcerated, and due to a lack of space, students would eat lunch against the gate.

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Figure 5.

AHS students eating lunch while sitting against the gate.

Ms. Garcia explained that the students felt like they were disposable because the priority was to maintain student attendance. However, once that was achieved, then students were pushed out of the school. As a result, the culture of control resulted in a hostile campus climate where students felt locked-in and cast out from campus through the use of gates, security guards, and police officers. Ms. Garcia noted that due to the culture of control, students did not feel welcome to arrive early or stay after school and participate in college enrichment activities. Instead, the efforts by security guards to push students out of school contradicted college-going preparation. Thus, the foundational aspect in the culture of control was the effort to keep students locked-in and locked-out of school.

Oftentimes, the culture of control intersected with inequitable resources within school sites. For example, Ramon, a student at UHS, took a photo, depicted in Figure 6, of students congregated during lunchtime behind a chainlink fence. Ramon explained that the fence was always closed during lunch because it prevented students from leaving campus. However, an employee from the food truck would outside of the fence to write down orders. Once the food was ready, he would hand it to the students through a gap in the fence. Ramon shared that he was compelled to take a photo of the food truck because it was an important part of what students experienced daily, given that the cafeteria would run out of food. Therefore, if students were hungry, the only alternative option was the food truck.

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Figure 6.

UHS students purchasing lunch from food truck through a closed gate.

New Juan Crow in Education Hindering Postsecondary Preparation

Findings revealed that the New Juan Crow in Education hindered student efforts to prepare for postsecondary educational pathways. The lack of institutional resources influenced the support and guidance received by some student participants. In addition, the culture of control presented obstacles for students when preparing for college. While the culture of control prevented students from engaging in academic and extracurricular preparations, it also limited the skills required to navigate college as an independent first-generation student.

Due to the lack of institutional resources, Susie, from UHS, explained the lack of college-going resources that the majority of participants experienced. She argued,

When it comes to college, nobody has come up to me to tell me, “You should go to college.” I go to them ’cause people aren’t coming to me . . . We didn’t really get a lot of help in that.

All student participants revealed how a lack of institutional resources hindered access to a postsecondary education. Regardless of grade point average (GPA), the participants sought information to prepare for college from various sources that provided limited guidance.

Unfortunately, the culture of control hindered students accessing the limited resources.Police officers from the city of Monte Rico patrolled AHS on a daily basis. As a result, every day, at least one police vehicle was parked on campus grounds, in front of the school entrance. Although the majority of participants noted that the police presence increased a sense of imprisonment, the police presence was not physically harmful. However, participants in other school sites recalled that either they or a close friend had an altercation with police officers and/or security guards, which was unaddressed by administration. For example, at AHS, Javier recalled a negative encounter with a police officer after school:

I can’t stand the cops . . . One day I was here for tutoring after school. I went across the street to buy snacks. The cop wouldn’t let me go outside. He said I couldn’t come back in if I left. I told him I was just going to buy a snack and be right back. When I came back in, he wouldn’t let me in! . . . He slammed me into the locker . . . I had meetings with my mom and the principal, my mom wanted to press charges . . . The principal convinced my mom that the cop would apologize to me and that we would not press charges . . . He’s still here! Walking around the school.

Javier, who maintained a 2.93 GPA, explained how his college-going opportunities were affected directly by being reprimanded physically by a police officer. While he tried to benefit from the limited afterschool tutoring, he was unable to walk across the street to buy food. After defying the authority of the police officer, he was physically assaulted. Data sources document similar physical harassments occurring in the other school sites. In particular, Javier’s experience speaks to the “lock-up and lock-down” approach that Ms. Garcia noted when describing the culture of control. Thus, the culture of control permeated and countered the college-going efforts put forth by both teachers and students, which then limited college readiness.

Juan also described his experience at AHS as aligning with feelings of being in jail, but he articulated how the culture would hinder him in college:

Here at Academies, it feels like a jail, they have us locked in here . . . I feel trapped . . . For a long time I thought this was a jail before it was a high school. There’s always structure here and if there is no structure, they think it’s not going to work. In college they give you more freedom so that’s going to be a tough transition. Here they tell you, “You have to do this, you have to do that,” and they give you all these type of rules. The guards they tell you “Do this, do that,” and you have to do it, there’s not much else you can do ’cause they have the authority.

Juan expressed his feelings of entrapment and the resemblance between AHS and jail. Juan connected his experiences of continuous monitoring and a lack of independence with his abilities to navigate college in the future. He argued that AHS students would experience difficulties transitioning into college because they did not gain the skills required to become independent students and manage their own academic futures. He questioned how he and others would know to navigate the freedom that college afforded if the culture of control prevented students from learning to be independent. Juan’s interview data revealed that the AHS culture of control restricted students from taking ownership of their education.

Finally, during her follow-up interview, Anaís, an AHS student, clarified how the restrictive culture of control limited her college readiness:

They want us to grow up but we have to ask permission to go to the bathroom—it’s difficult to do . . . The first two years, we didn’t have the gates but we had no freedom, we didn’t have a say in anything. They controlled us and they wanted us to do certain things. Then, we graduate and have freedom and now it’s hard to do things. In high school, you have to ask permission for everything. Then, when you graduate, you have to do things for yourself. If we had done things differently, I would be more independent in college and know how to do things by myself. It’s harder now. I don’t know how to explain it.

Much like the other participants, Anaís explained that the school implemented more restrictive security measures throughout her high school years. Anaís contrasted the child-like experience of having to ask permission to use the restroom with the expectation of being an adult in college. Anaís compared the constant control that she and other students experienced while at AHS with the complete freedom that a community college provided. Although Anaís could not articulate why the restrictive policies and practices of AHS limited her ability to navigate college successfully, she attributed these policies and practices to her lacking skills necessary to succeed as an independent college student. Thus, Anaís exemplified how the culture of control hindered the transition from high school to community college. Despite the lack of individual college guidance, student participants looked forward to experiencing independence as college students. However, the participants also noted that given the lack of independence as high school students, they would not know how to navigate freedom in college.

Teacher and Student Resistance to the New Juan Crow in Education

Despite the culture of control, teacher and student participants resisted in various forms. Teacher resistance entailed participants creating counterspaces within their classrooms. Thus, students had the opportunity to learn about college and/or critique institutionalized inequitable educational opportunities. Whether it meant purchasing additional supplies with personal funds or structuring the class around college preparation, each teacher participant created and utilized his or her classroom to counter the culture of control.

As indicated by Figure 7, Ms. Garcia shaped her curriculum to build a college-going climate. She explained her decision:

Last year, I stuck to a teacher’s curriculum . . . This year, I was like, “What do I do?” I had a mentor, she was like, “Cover your standards but teach what you feel is important.” I got a spark in me and right off the bat I was like, “I want them to do college kits”—which is not in the standards. That is so ironic and stupid, in my opinion. If that’s where they want to take them, there should be a college class . . . I wish we could just do a college class and you could learn about college and have speakers come, and learn about GPA requirements, that would be beautiful, if we had an advisory period where it was just college stuff—that would get the kids on track . . . I geared the college kit to what the standards were supposed to cover.

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Figure 7.

Ms. Garcia’s college-going class calendar for twelfth grade students.

During her second year as a teacher, Ms. Garcia had the freedom to design her curriculum. Ms. Garcia’s ideology entailed high aspirations and expectations for students, which became evident, given her decision to embed college-going into the curriculum. Ms. Garcia did not question the abilities of students or whether students would be interested in college. Instead, she believed that they would benefit from attending college and invested time and resources into learning college requirements and aligning a college kit with course standards.

As seen in Figure 7, Ms. Garcia began the school year by creating a counterspace to the AHS culture of control. Instead, the first month entailed students preparing resumes, personal statements, and letters of recommendations. In addition, as indicated by Figure 7, Ms. Garcia engaged her students in critical discussions about who attends college and allowed students to reflect on college. Moreover, contrary to the schoolwide culture of control, Ms. Garcia fostered college skills by allowing students to present and lead the class on Fridays.

In addition, findings also revealed various forms of student resistance to the culture of control. Student resistance included preparing for college-going pathways, critiquing practices within the culture of control, and searching for alternatives to restrictive policies, such as the on-campus lunch policy at UHS. One example of resistance included the students actively using the limited resources within the college and career centers, as depicted by Figure 8. Out of the five school sites, four maintained a classroom designated as the college and career center. The fifth site, FHS, opened a college and career center during the 2014-2015 school year, which focused on vocational pathways.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Figure 8.

AHS college and career center where college advisors meet and guide students.

As indicated in Figure 8, students at AHS turned to the college and career center for support. Not visible in the image are the six computers available so that students could use in preparation for college requirements. In addition, one of the college advisors can be seen meeting individually with a student. Behind her, a wall of college banners. Thus, although the school lacked institutionalized resources, nonprofit organizations collaborated with AHS to provide some college guidance. As a result, although student participants navigated on a daily basis a culture of control, they continued to maintain college aspirations.

Limitations

This study has limitations that prevent generalizing the findings, which is not the intent of qualitative methods. These limitations include that the data were derived from five school sites, a small homogeneous sample of students, and the self-selection of the participants. In addition, peers may have influenced participants in determining what to photograph, as well as teacher restrictions not to photograph certain classrooms. Despite these shortcomings, this study presents an in-depth understanding of highly segregated and underresourced high schools, the majority of which Latina/o students attend (Orfield & Lee, 2007; Rogers et al., 2007). In particular, the sites are ideal to examine the schooling of Latinas/os who attend similar inequitable urban schooling contexts. Moreover, the photovoice method fostered a rich description of the culture and climate present in the schools and allowed participants to exemplify their experiences through images.