Magnet
School at Top of the Charts Locally, and Nationally
By Bill Beggs Jr.
It might take another generation for it to render moot the timeworn
St. Louis question—“Where’d you go to high school?”—but for
at least the last decade, Metro High has already been shaking
up the perception of public education in the City, from both
inside and out.
In 2005, Newsweek magazine ranked Metro, officially Metro
Academic & Classical High School, No. 48 among the nation’s
1,000 best high schools*. Gentlemen, start your calculators…heck;
just ask one of the 324 kids to do the math in his or her head:
that’s in the top five percent, which is an A+ practically anywhere
in the country.
Metro became a bona fide academic powerhouse in 2001, when it
adopted the International Baccalaureate program. This two-year
curriculum—I.B., in the vernacular—culminates with a secondary
school diploma based upon international standards, critical
thinking skills, and reflective evaluation. (Established in
1967 in Geneva, the program was designed to ensure children
of career diplomats and international corporation employees
equal access to an integrated education that would be recognized
by colleges and universities worldwide.)
Is this a source of pride? The glee in Brionna Phillips’ voice
when she answers the question after picking up the telephone
at Metro is palpable. Upon meeting the 15-year-old young lady
from the Class of 2009 in person, one might have expected enthusiastic
back flips from her.
Brionna was at the switchboard to help satisfy one of her graduation
requirements: 300 service hours. Wilfred D. “Doug” Moore, principal
since 2003, says these may be accumulated by fulfilling various
duties at school, or by dealing with societal issues off campus,
whether interacting with nursing-home residents or staffing
a suicide and crisis line. Some students may elect to write
an in-depth, 4,000-word paper, perhaps a detailed evaluation
of a particular sociological problem.
The service requirement, coupled with the spirit embodied by
students like Brionna, underscores Metro’s mission: “To provide
a challenging and quality education that will focus on high
standards and expectations, in an atmosphere of unity, enthusiasm,
caring, and respect for self, others and the community.”
The kids didn’t get here because someone pulled strings for
them; they’re here because of their talent, their promise. They
have to test in. The student body is the classic American melting
pot: roughly 50 percent African-American, the other half Caucasian,
Hispanic, Asian. There are kids from Bosnia and Vietnam. Some
arrive speaking little or no English. Others may speak as many
as three languages.
“Income ranges from families who have swimming pools and horses
out back, to people who are living out of a box,” Moore says.
An alum whose family was among the “100 Neediest Cases” published
during the holiday season by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch
graduated from Harvard a few years ago.
Keeping grades up is not only important to college preparedness,
but to freedom in the here-and-now. One consequence of a failing
grade is to lose the privilege of leaving campus during a free
period. Students can’t use cell phones at school. And the cafeteria
food is, well, let’s just say that it’s not McDonald’s, which
is just a block or so away.
The end of one period and the beginning of another is marked
by the halls suddenly becoming more crowded, not a jarring buzz
or loud ring: “We don’t have bells,” Moore points out. “They
have to be good time managers.”
Metro has been in its new building at 4015 McPherson for 10
years, on the site formerly occupied by Marquette Elementary
School. But the school was established three decades ago, once
occupying a quonset hut at Chouteau and Wisconsin, as “an alternative
school for kids who were bored stiff.”
“This is the ‘nerd’ school,” he says. That’s not a term of derision
any more than “geek” would be an insult to a computer whiz.
There’s actually a nerd club at Metro. Most students are accustomed
to the high academic expectations, having come from gifted programs.
Bookishness is not universally respected by high schoolers,
of course. If bullies don’t taunt the kid with white tape holding
his busted black glasses together at school, they might on his
way home. “If you live in a neighborhood where carrying books
could get you into a fight, we give you a second set of books,”
says Moore. “One for school, one for home.”
Athletics doesn’t get short shrift at Metro, although the school
doesn’t have the critical mass to field a football team or boys’
basketball team. With girls outnumbering boys two to one, an
admitted challenge for Moore is to attract more African-American
males. Students do have the opportunity to play ball on other
high-school teams. Another is to get fully behind one of the
girls’ statewide championship teams: The basketball team won
state in 2005.
One of the team’s biggest fans is Dr. Stohr, a retired neurosurgeon
and beloved volunteer who has helped students with math and
science and brought in a human brain to study and dissect.
What’s more, says Moore: “He doesn’t miss a game.”
Oh, and just one last thing: To answer the St. Louis question,
Wilfred D. Moore graduated from Roosevelt High School in 1968.
* The national weekly magazine ranks public schools according
to this ratio: the number of advanced placement or International
Baccalaur-eate tests taken by all students at a school in 2004
divided by the number of graduating seniors.
To learn more about education in the Greater St. Louis area,
click here.
