Pictured, left to right, are Board Member Tamar Galatzan, Superintendent John Deasy, Cleveland Humanities Magnet Creator Neil Anstead, Cleveland Humanities Coordinator Jennifer Macon, Los Angeles Deputy Mayor of Education Joan Sullivan, Cleveland High School Principal Herman Clay. Photo by Paola Prato, Photography and Art History Teacher Cleveland Magnet Program
On Thursday morning hundreds of students, faculty, parents and local officials gathered in a grassy courtyard to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the nationally esteemed Cleveland Humanities Magnet, and to honor the man who created it.
Three decades ago a teacher named Neil Anstead had a vision: he wanted to start a high school that would take a group of dedicated teachers and allow them to teach to their passions.
The school has an interdisciplinary, thematic, team-based approach that was created to serve two purposes: to promote teachers professional growth, and to improve humanities education for the full range of students.
The school’s core curriculum has changed with the times, but today the Cleveland Humanities Magnet lives on, as one of the most successful and high-performing programs in all of Los Angeles.
“When I think of the kind of student I want to see graduate from LAUSD, I think of a student like a Cleveland Humanities Graduate: a young person who can think critically, and who is a life-long learner,” said Tamar. “In a world changing as fast as ours, is there anything more valuable?”
Today, Cleveland Humanities Magnet is the model curriculum for over 31 humanities programs throughout LAUSD. In collaboration with the Los Angeles Education Partnership, hundreds of teachers have participated in seminars and institutes led by the Cleveland Magnet teachers.
Anstead taught at the school from 1959 to 2004, when he retired. He taught English, art history, government and economics. After retirement he continued to come back and substitute. Many of today’s students, though, had never met him.
But as they baked under the hot sun, colleagues and friends paid tribute to the man who dreamed up an educational curriculum that demanded that every teacher be a student first, and required that all students learn to write well, debate eloquently, and think critically.
Tamar addresses Cleveland students and faculty at Cleveland Humanities Magnet 30th Anniversary Celebration. Photo by Paola Prato.
Dressed in a rainbow shirt, rainbow shoes and a wacky hat that made him look like a living relic of the Sixties, 12th Grade Coordinator and Philosophy teacher Ray Linn dazzled students with his speech cum performance.
One of the original core members, Linn told how Anstead regarded any teacher that used a textbook as a “herd animal,” and how Anstead deeply distrusted any centralized players, or experts, especially in education. He said Anstead had five core beliefs: 1) teachers should be forced to come up with their own materials 2) teachers should be asked to reach for the top, to bring their students difficult materials and difficult books. 3) Teachers should use essay exams to evaluate student performance rather than multiple choice and 4) students should be exposed to a diversity of viewpoints and 5) rather than focusing just on basic skills, teachers should work on language themselves to allow students to discuss the most complex concepts. He highlighted the importance of collaborative teaching.
“It is easy to get tenure and shut your door,” Linn said. “When you are face to face with other teachers, you have to think much more critically about what you are doing.”
Colleagues praised Anstead as a Renaissance man comfortable discussing Karl Marx and Adam Smith, philosophy or art, red wine, African masks, or Greek history. He loved Shakespeare. He could fill a class on opera with high school students at 7 a.m. or 3 p.m..
Anstead demanded that his staff generate new ideas, and then that they go out and share them at workshops and seminars.
“He would say, ‘I’m going to make you famous,’” said teacher Donna Hill, who will retire this year. “He pushed us to be more than we thought we could be. He fed my intellect and my soul.”
Anstead himself took the podium and greeted the students, apologizing for not knowing each of their names—as he once did.
“You have had the best there is of education,” he said. “Don’t sell yourself short. One of the great tragedies of education is that we sell students short. Students can do anything.”
The school named the “Core” building after Anstead, and put up a plaque with the following inscription:
In honor of his visionary leadership and commitment to the humanities and education, with profound respect and gratitude for inspiring educators and students to teach and learn to their passions and for expecting greatness in others while modeling greatness in himself.
After the ceremony students swarmed Anstead like he was a rock star, and guests repaired to the refreshment tables to partake in Anstead’s trademark snack—Hot Flaming Cheetos.