Still, a reporter suggests to Smith, there comes a point when you'll have to do something new.
"And that point is coming up very soon," Smith replies.
Even so, he's relentless in insisting the cup is half-full: "Most of our Hispanic students are not Mexican, they're from South or Central America," he says. "The stories these kids can tell -- having to walk across countries and mountains to get here. One day they're in a war-torn country, the next they're here. So even if things aren't perfect here, they're a lot better than where they were before, for a lot of these kids."
The trickle of students that begins an Anderson school day in the predawn hours ends in a tidal wave of kids at 3 p.m. No good way has been developed yet for getting so many children easily through dismissal time.
Cars fill up Landsdowne Street in front of the school, vying for space with vans from after-school daycare centers. Although staffers try to encourage parents to pick up kids from other doors, most cars still go to the front entrance.
The long hallways of Anderson fill with kids, who listen with varying degrees of attention to their teachers' entreaties to keep quiet and stay in line. The littlest students are moved out first ("because it can get massive," Smith says), but it's still easy to pick out a small face or two that's overwhelmed by the Grand Central Station near-chaos.
The flood pours out various doors of the school at a breakneck pace, but it still takes 20 minutes or so to discern any ebb in the flow. Once the kids see daylight, of course, their natural instincts take over and the noise level erupts. Papers get strewn everywhere, teachers struggle to keep things moving, and kids who aren't walking home wander around looking for a familiar car. When it rains, things are ten times worse.
Finally, after about a half-hour, it's quiet again. Dozens of children are still hanging around -- and others are inside at after-school programs -- but the frantic atmosphere has died down. Teachers trudge back into the classrooms; Smith and other administrators head for their offices.
They perhaps would like to start working on the bigger problems of implementing new curricula and brainstorming for innovative ways to address the overcrowding. They'd probably love to be able to thoughtfully discuss how to ensure that the crucial first years of a student's academic career, when attitudes toward school can harden, is less like a factory and more like a welcoming, nurturing home.
They'd probably like to do that, but it's much more likely that everyone has more pressing fires to put out.
After all, in only a few more hours, the first kids will once again start lining up outside the front door.
Contact Richard Connelly at Rich_Connelly@houstonpress.com.
