Attucks principal called one of a kind
Longtime IPS educator is planning to retire in 2 years, but teachers
and officials hope that she will reconsider.
By Linda Graham Caleca
Indianapolis Star/News
November 9, 1998
INDIANAPOLIS (Nov. 9, 1998) -- Duncan "Pat" Pritchett doesn't
like to beg.
But the Indianapolis Public Schools superintendent says he'll do it to keep
Attucks Middle School Principal Annie Mayes from retiring.
He's already tried wheedling, and flattery.
"No, Annie, you can't go," Pritchett told Mayes.
Then he said, "You're just a young gal, so full of energy."
Mayes laughs at the protestations of her boss and longtime friend, but her
mind is made up. She'll step down in two years.
By then, the esteemed educator who once was honored as the nation's top
administrator will be nearly 55 years old and have worked as a teacher,
math consultant and principal for 33 years.
It's time to worry less and watch her favorite team, the Green Bay Packers,
more. Her second son -- her "baby" -- is Packers wide receiver
Derrick Mayes.
"I'll go to all the football games I want," she says, fingering
a diamond-studded replica of his Super Bowl ring that he presented her on
a glittering necklace.
When retired, she won't have to rush back to town to be in her office by
6:15 a.m., as is her custom.
"We are devastated," said reading teacher Emily Anderson. "When
Mrs. Mayes leaves, some of the teachers are going to leave, too."
Strict rules, no excuses
In the orderly, sparkling-clean halls of the school on Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. Street, students know Mayes' rules.
There is no running, loitering, littering or swearing. An elaborate dress
code forbids hats, spaghetti straps, short skirts, sagging pants, loose
belts, dog chains and flip-flops.
Fighting means immediate suspension. The same for anyone caught with drugs
or weapons -- "they're gone," Mayes says. "I don't apologize
to anyone about that."
She brooks no excuses and makes none herself, even though hers is a difficult
job. The middle school years are the most turbulent, and nearly 60 percent
of her students live in poverty.
Mayes is at Attucks 11 hours a day, working the hallways, listening and
sometimes scolding. Last year, she missed only three days.
After dinner and on Saturdays, she's back at Attucks, cheering students
on at tryouts or games. "They appreciate it," she says. "And
I get to see the child in another light."
Mayes worries about her students -- like the few sixth-graders who suck
their thumbs -- but insists they do their best. Last year, Attucks' sixth-graders
were among IPS' top scorers on the ISTEP exam. In addition, cash bonuses
were awarded to Attucks staff members for helping the school achieve high
test scores and attendance levels.
The key, says Mayes, is hiring talented teachers, then staying out of their
way. They respond with loyalty.
Science teacher Lon Amstutz says if it weren't for Mayes, "I probably
would be at another school."
Adds Anderson, the reading teacher, "What's good about Mrs. Mayes is,
she allows us to be in charge."
Searching the fine print
Born one of nine children in Mississippi, Mayes says she could afford college
only after her father, a railroad worker, was killed in an accident. Insurance
benefits paid college tuition costs for Mayes and four siblings; four of
the five became teachers.
Though Mayes was honored by middle school educators in 1994 as the nation's
top administrator, she says she never wanted to be superintendent.
"I always needed to stay close to the children," Mayes said. She
knows she'll miss the way they crowd into her office to see pictures of
her famous son. She already plans to spend part of her retirement tutoring
youngsters struggling with math.
That sentiment gives Pritchett slight hope.
He says Mayes is too valuable to lose: she is fair with her teachers and
parents, and inspires even the most troubled students.
"I'm searching the fine print in the contract," he says, looking
for a way to make her stay.
"You can't replace an Annie Mayes."
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