"He never should have been hired." --Crisis Team co-leader Ronnie Herndon

by NIGEL JAQUISS
njaquiss@wweek.com

Last Friday morning, Ben Canada emerged from what might have been a routine meeting with Jefferson High School students. But waiting for the Portland Public Schools superintendent were camera crews from five local television stations and reporters from four radio stations. Normally, Canada's visit to a school--even one in turmoil as Jefferson is--would hardly warrant such coverage. But the maxim in broadcast media is "if it bleeds, it leads," and clearly, Ben Canada's blood is in the water.

It could happen by the end of the week. It may not be until the end of the year, but it's increasingly clear that barring a miracle, Canada is gone.

In his two and a half years at the helm of Portland's public schools, the superintendent has won praise for mending relationships with legislators and business leaders. But he has also built a record of disastrous personnel choices and repeated communications failures. By now, it's no secret that Canada has lost the trust of the Portland Association of Teachers. "I think he has outlived his value to the Portland Public Schools," says union president Richard Garrett. "He's burned too many bridges, and I think they are impossible to repair."

As serious as the union's discontent may be, it's not what's fueling the drive to dump Canada. Rather, the push stems from the superintendent's remarkable ability to alienate disparate constituencies more influential than the union and, ultimately, more important to the district's future than Canada himself.

Since its founding in 1996, there has been no bigger local booster of K-12 education than the Portland Public Schools Foundation, which brings together corporate chiefs, top educators and community leaders. The foundation has helped raise $150 million in public funds and generated another $10 million in private grants. Without its support, the $80 million local option voters approved last May would probably have failed.

On Jan. 14, foundation management and board members met with school board members Marc Abrams, Debbie Menashe and Sue Hagmeier. "They were expressing concern about the rate of change in the district," Abrams says.

Based on conversations with foundation sources, Abrams' interpretation of the message the foundation's representatives delivered seems diplomatic, to say the least.

"My perception is that a number of folks in the foundation, including its leadership, don't support Canada," says Tony Hopson, CEO of Self Enhancement Inc., the only member of the foundation board willing to speak on the record about its relationship with the district.

Perhaps the most telling evidence of the foundation's frustration is the news that its director, Cynthia Guyer, has requested a leave of absence.

Guyer declined to comment for this article but colleagues say that she has grown impatient with what she perceives as the district's resistance to change and specifically Canada's lack of leadership.

If Guyer were to depart, it would be a blow to the district's image and jeopardize key funding sources. "She's done an excellent job," says former Secretary of State Phil Keisling, a foundation board member. "She's taken the foundation from zero to being a very prominent player in town and nationally."

Coming on the heels of Canada's blow-up at the teachers' union (see "The Wrath of Ben," WW, Nov. 1, 2000) and the unscheduled departures of principals at Whitaker Middle School and Jefferson High, the timing of Guyer's request couldn't look worse for Canada. Her organization is in the midst of pursuing a $10 million Carnegie Foundation grant and is angling for a larger sum--up to $40 million--from the Gates Foundation.

Part of what rankles foundation types and others is the perceived failure of the Strategic Plan. The plan, funded by a $300,000 grant from the foundation, brought 700 community members into a yearlong effort at rethinking schools. But while participants hoped the plan would provide a road map for change, the missteps that have marked its implementation have left many dismayed.

"The strategic plan was my last hope," says Marianne Fitzgerald, a Lincoln High parent who, as one of the "Three Moms," led the fight for more school funding in the second half of the '90s. But echoing other members of the core planning team, she says Canada seems oblivious to the district's lack of progress. "I saw Ben the other day," Fitzgerald says, "and he said, 'It [the Strategic Plan]'s really taking root,' and I thought, 'Where have you been?'"

If people like Guyer and Fitzgerald represent the organized face of school support, then Dwayne Schultz is the ideal volunteer: a business leader willing to dive into the district's operations.

In the past three years, Schultz has served on the district's Blue-Ribbon Finance Committee, the Bond Oversight Committee, led its Facilities Utilization Task Force and helped shape a massive 1998 audit by the accounting firm KPMG.

Perhaps no private citizen understands the schools' inner workings better than the former Hewlett Packard and Apple Computer executive. But after hundreds of hours of volunteering, Schultz is pessimistic. "The community has really lost faith in the district," he says.

Schultz offers three specific criticisms:

First, although he wasn't involved in the Strategic Plan, he calls the result a fiasco. "It has the right kinds of words and language," he says, "but there are countless examples of the plan being violated." Schultz notes, for instance, that Canada's replacement of Lincoln's principal--without the community involvement the Strategic Plan emphasizes--came just two weeks after the superintendent presented the plan to the school board.

Second, Schultz says, he has grown frustrated with the district's inability to make obvious cost cuts. For example, the 1998 KPMG audit recommended that the schools sell some unused buildings. Since then, two more committees--including one he led--have come to the same conclusion. And still, there's been little action. "Here we are 24 months later and the latest findings make more or less the same points," he says.

Schultz places the blame on the school board as well as Canada and the people he's hand-picked to run the district. He argues that Canada has both increased the centralization of district functions and hired or promoted people who are ineffective. As examples of centralization, he cites the growth of the number of directors of student achievement (principals' bosses) from five to 10.

As for effectiveness, Merced Flores, Canada's first chief of staff, has already been sent packing; Deputy Superintendent Susan Dyer, his top lieutenant, has endured heavy criticism, and Linda Harris, an assistant superintendent, is largely invisible (see "Head of the Class," Sept. 8, 1999).

"At this point," Shultz says, "the performance of everybody on Ben Canada's staff is unacceptable."

Although the alienation of the Portland Public Schools Foundation and volunteers such as Schultz is costly, the attacks of a third group may ultimately provide the starkest example of Canada's failure to connect with key constituencies, giving the school board the political cover to push him out the door.

In June 1999, longtime school activists from Portland's minority community formed the Crisis Team. Since then, their criticism of Canada's efforts has escalated from polite press conferences to hostile demonstrations.

Their opposition is damaging for a couple of reasons:

First, Canada insists he agrees with them that closing the achievement gap between poor, minority students and middle-class whites must be the district's highest priority. Yet, despite that common goal, Crisis Team representatives say they have completely lost faith in the superintendent.

The second reason that the Crisis Team's criticism cuts so deeply involves race. The sight of African-American activists attacking an African-American superintendent raises some awkward issues in a city as white as Portland.

Some, including an African-American principal interviewed by WW, say the black community has placed excessive demands on Canada because of his skin color.

Others, however, say Canada's race protects him. "There may be some white guilt surrounding the achievement gap," says Hopson, a co-leader of the Crisis Team. "It's possible for that same guilt to carry over to the superintendent and his lead staff, who are also people of color."

Aside from the union, the Crisis Team members are the only school activists willing to say publicly what many others say privately about Canada. "He never should have been hired," Crisis Team co-leader Ronnie Herndon told WW last week. "He has never reformed a school system or made a significant difference in the performance of low income kids."

Canada acknowledges he's under pressure but insists it's too soon to judge his performance on the Strategic Plan. "If we don't produce based on the plan, they won't have to ask me to leave," he told WW.

But "they"--the school board--have privately demanded that he reorganize his staff and are meeting nearly continuously with each other and community leaders to see whether his job can be salvaged. Another house cleaning may buy Canada some time. But even if he jettisons Dyer, he may have passed the tipping point.