Kealing teacher a hero to students, parents

							Kealing teacher a hero to students,
parents
Austin district Teacher of the Year Michael
Perkins dedicated to seeing students achieve.
                                                                                                 Click-2-Listen


By Laura Heinauer
AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF
Sunday, July 08, 2007


Like a speeding bullet, Michael Perkins flies down Interstate 35 in a beat-up 1995 Cutlass, interrupting a
conference in Dallas to get to Austin to support a bunch of kids he barely knows who are taking a state
reading exam.


Like a locomotive, the Kealing Middle School teacher is unstoppable after he arrives, offering
encouragement as he moves through the cafeteria where the students ready themselves for a grueling day
with a breakfast of Cap'n Crunch cereal and buttered toast. "Be confident. Be sure of yourself," he bellows.
"We believe in you. So believe in yourself, too."


Perkins, 30, may not be the real Superman, but by all accounts, the 2007 Austin school district Teacher of
the Year is special, not just because he is the first African American to receive the award, but because of the
unwavering dedication he has for his students and the amount of love they show in return.


Perkins, who grew up in East Austin not knowing his biological father, has become a father to many
students, as evidenced by the high-fives, secret handshakes and shy smiles that he draws out of even the
saddest of students.


"He's pigeon-toed, not very tall. You wouldn't imagine him to do such things, but he works very hard," said
his wife, Leslie Perkins. "He's from the 'hood. He is a person that embraces his people. Nothing means more
to him than to see the people in his community succeed."


When Michael Perkins was born, his mother, Wanda McDowell, was 16 years old and on welfare. Her son's
likable personality and high intelligence were evident by age 2, she said.


The family was involved in the Rosewood Avenue Baptist Church, and Perkins was blessed in that he had
many teachers who kept on him. Those things helped him stay on the right track.


"My teachers were very motherlike; they would not let me do anything substandard," he said.


But there was always an emptiness that Perkins couldn't shake.
Although his mother and stepfather were very supportive, attending all his games and plays, it bothered
Perkins that his real father never showed up for any of them.


Perkins remembers talking to his dad once a few days before a talent show at Pearce Middle School in
eighth grade. It was one of the few times they had ever spoken.


"He told me when I was born, how he wasn't ready to be a father and how he didn't think he could offer
anything or wasn't mature enough," Perkins said. "He was just not willing. He got caught up in the wrong
things, drugs and stuff like that."


The oldest of three siblings, Perkins said he looked up to his cousins, until they started dropping out of
school. He realized that finishing high school was something his mother and other relatives had done but
that his generation was faltering.


"I wanted to set changes, and I wanted there to be a ripple effect throughout my family," he said.


A 'nerd' gives back


Growing up, Jessie Lara and his best friend Michael Perkins had a secret.


The boys went to the movies and played a lot of baseball and basketball, just like all the other kids in the
neighborhood. But they were also very into school projects, especially science.


"He's a closet nerd," Lara said. "It was something we kind of hid from the world, but we were really into
geeky kind of stuff."


In college, his love of science and math made a major in engineering seem like the perfect fit.


Then one day during his sophomore year at what is now Texas State University, he went to an orientation
meeting for AmeriCorps, then a fairly new service program that allowed participants to earn money to help
pay for college.


During the meeting, he saw a video about giving back to one's community.


"It was about regular people being powerful because they were serving, and it just struck something in me,"
Perkins said. "After it was over, I said, 'Sign me up, too.' "


Perkins was still in college when he found out that he was going to be an unwed father.


The thought made him work extra hard, taking odd jobs for money, including washing cars and picking up
trash. He had switched majors to sociology and was working at his old high school, LBJ in Austin, to provide
social services to students form his old neighborhood.


Then, one weekend when he was at his mother's house, he received some life-changing news: His
biological father had died, his mother told him.
"I felt sorry for him, and there was a great sense of loss," Perkins said. "I had all these feelings of sadness.
But then again, I didn't know this person."


He thought of his daughter, who was due to be born any day.


"Then and there, I was so determined that I would be the opposite of what he was," Perkins said.


Two days later, Mikaela was born.


Closing the 'gap'


Perkins was back at LBJ, working as a social worker, when he was introduced to what his fellow social
service workers called the achievement gap between white and minority students in the district.


He realized that to have a real impact, he'd have to get his own classroom.


"I've often thought, because of his own father not being there, he never wants anybody to feel the way he
felt," Leslie Perkins said.


Perkins went back to Texas State to get his master's in education.


He teaches at Kealing, which houses both a magnet program for some of the highest-achieving students in
the district and a neighborhood school that consistently produces some of the lowest state achievement test
scores in the district.


Now, Perkins spends every day working on getting students from the neighborhood on the same track as
those in the magnet program.


"I hate the (achievement) gap so much, it literally consumes me. I truly feel that my purpose in life is to help
kill it."


Parents say Perkins helps them feel connected to the school, like a family.


He calls them on Mother's Day and sends text messages on Christmas. He hosts potluck dinners every six
weeks at which the parents learn about the gap and about the study and test-taking techniques he's using to
combat it.


When Carole Carter was out of town and having problems with her 14-year-old son, Xavier, she called
Perkins. "He told me, 'If you don't mind, I'll handle it.' "


The students, meanwhile, say they feel Perkins truly cares.


"If the class is kind of rowdy, he can get serious in a heartbeat. But if all your work is done for the day, we
can sit back and crack jokes," Xavier said.
"He even helps you decide what you want to be. If you say you're interested in something, he'll go do
research about the best colleges for that kind of thing."


Leslie Perkins said her husband often goes without, whether it's spending his nights planning lessons or
coaching basketball or driving down from Dallas in the rain to be there when a bunch of kids take a test.


She recently threw him a birthday party. The theme — what else? — Superman.


lheinauer@statesman.com; 445-3694


Michael Perkins




                                                                                               Ricardo B. Brazziell
                                                                                          AMERICAN-STATESMAN

                                                (enlarge photo)
'Be confident. Be sure of yourself,' Kealing Middle School teacher Michael Perkins tells his students. After
growing up without his biological father, Perkins, 30, has become a parental figure to many of the children,
and parents say he helps them feel connected to the Rosewood neighborhood school, like a family.




                                                                                                    Larry Kolvoord
                                                                                          AMERICAN-STATESMAN

                                                (enlarge photo)
Kealing Middle School students and educators were excited for Michael Perkins when he was nominated for
Austin district Teacher of the Year in April. He got a hug from fellow teacher Laurie Pena.