Charter School Graduates Five Students

By MANDY LOCKE

The five sit around the schoolyard picnic table as naturally as a
family at the dinner table. Such an easy rhythm pulses through their
exchanges that the new addition to their group thinks this handful of
Island teenagers is, in fact, family.

And that, they agree, is exactly the point. It's all part of
the Martha's Vineyard Public Charter School experiment.

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"I can't really say it's a school. It's been
a great family," says Kristian Seney as he pulls apart a muffin
from Biga Bakery, the unofficial lunchroom of charter school students.

These five teenagers - two young women and three young men
- will leave their charter school home this Saturday - more
than doubling the alumni population of the seven-year-old school.

It's Tuesday morning - just four days before they
graduate from their role as the oldest and wisest kids on "Main
street," the official name for the post and beam school's
central hallway. When these seniors - known as
"ultimates" within the charter school community - are
asked if they're ready to move on, they sigh in unison.

"It's a mixture of emotions. It's kind of sad
because I've been here so long," says Abraham Stimson.

But in the final days before these charter school students stand
before the 160 other students to receive their accolades and best
wishes, their thoughts meander through the experiences that made their
time at this funky West Tisbury campus the perfect high school
education.

"It gives you a chance to see what's out there,"
says Kerry Sertl, referring to the mentor program in which each high
schooler must participate.

"I got a little peek at what it's like to teach,"
says Abraham, noting how the new addition of a darkroom in the middle
school wing allows him to teach basic photography to the younger
students.

"The whole point is to learn over time," says Freya
Grunden, explaining that the absence of high-stress testing and a high
volume of project-based work forced her to truly comprehend her
subjects.

"I did a concert right over there," says Xavier Powers,
referring to a portfolio project he completed with his longtime mentor
Maynard Silva perched on another schoolyard picnic table. "I do
better playing for big crowds."

"It's not like you're sitting inside all day with
fluorescent lights and no windows. If you need a break, you can go
outside for five or 10 minutes," Kristian explains.

Their discussions are a sort of dance - each anticipating the
other's moves so as not to step on a speaker's toes. They
anticipate Kerry adding another thought two beats after her sentence
ends. They know Xavier will meander for a moment before hitting an
insightful point. Abe's the most likely to disagree - gently
steering his classmate to consider a new opinion. Kristian's a
soundbite machine - succinct and articulate. Freya gives it raw
- unedited and on-point.

Each is unapologetically different - square pegs for the
world's round holes. But in the charter school, they indisputably
belong.

"I love the smaller groups. It's easier to teach five
kids than 50," Kerry says. "And there are no cliques."

"It's a judgment-free community," Kristian offers.

"It's hard to hate someone you see every day,"
Kerry concludes.

At least three of the five question how they would have survived at
the Martha's Vineyard Regional High School. A few detail personal
limitations, from crowd anxiety to difficulty with writing, that would
have been major stumbling blocks at the regional high school. But in the
charter school, teachers work closely with students, adjusting the
project work to help them sharpen strengths and bolster weaknesses.

But this isn't the kind of school through which students can
coast - an erroneous perception they say that their peers
can't seem to overcome.

"People don't understand the school. They think we slack
off. They don't know that I come in late at night, cramming to get
an assignment done," Kerry says.

"When it first started, I think they all thought we raised
goats and wore Birkenstocks," Freya adds.

The entire school community will celebrate the graduates'
achievement Saturday - each class offering a symbolic gift to the
graduating class. And the graduates, in turn, will offer the school a
gift - the details of which they've managed to keep a secret
for several weeks.

As a group, this batch of graduates is "quiet and
humble," charter school director Bob Moore says Tuesday afternoon,
ticking through tales about each of his seniors.

"They've been important to the life of this
school," says Mr. Moore.

Despite how well they function as a group, the graduates say their
distinct personalities make it hard for them to describe a group
identity. But their identities as individuals couldn't be more
clear.

Freya's the theatrical artist among them - wearing the
statement with strands of hair falling over her eyes, safety pins
dangling from gold hoop earrings and a new tattoo on her left shoulder.
Xavier exudes coolness - wavy hair protruding beneath his Blues
Brothers brown felt hat. He speaks through music - a conversation
he's been carrying on with his mentor Mr. Silva at Island
performances for several years.

Kristian, the only one giving in to the charter school's
crunchy reputation by donning Birkenstocks and a blindingly bright
Hawaiian shirt, is known for his technological talent and dramatic
flair. Kerry, who along with Xavier is a founding member of the Charter
School, seems to be the group's mother hen - encouraging her
classmates to mention their own accolades and experiences. Talking to
Abraham, the group's unofficial ambassador, is like opening a
present, with unexpected gifts just inside the wrapper.

And their post-charter school paths couldn't be more
different.

Freya is headed to Dean College in Franklin, where she will begin
preparing for a career as a stage manager.

Abraham is going to do some traveling in Ireland to study film
before returning to school to become a teacher.

Xavier is headed to Vermont to travel the music and theatre circuit.

Kristian plans to do some traveling as well, starting with
Massachusetts. After a year, he's sure he'll head to
college.

Kerry, a fan of law, crime and the entanglement of the two, is
starting at Cape Cod Community College this fall, where she hopes to
pursue a career in forensic science.

Despite their divergent roadmaps for the coming year, these
graduates are convinced they'll remain a close part of the charter
school family.

After all, says Kristian, "The school grew up as we
did."