ABOUT THE COLUMNIST

Gracie Bonds Staples is an award-winning journalist who has been writing for daily newspapers since 1979, when she graduated from the University of Southern Mississippi. She joined The Atlanta Journal-Constitution in 2000 after stints at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, the Sacramento Bee, Raleigh Times and two Mississippi dailies. Staples was recently promoted to Senior Features Enterprise Writer. Look for her columns Thursdays and Saturdays in Living and alternating Sundays in Metro.

If you’re still looking for something good to come out of the convictions of 11 former Atlanta public school teachers and administrators, Shani Robinson’s newborn may be it.

Robinson and 10 other defendants in the case were convicted last week for violating the Racketeer Influence and Corrupt Organization Act and other felonies. Her co-defendants were handcuffed and hauled off to jail immediately following the verdicts.

On Tuesday, Tamara Cotman, Sharon Davis-Williams and Michael Pitts were given the maximum 20-year sentence, with seven years to be served in prison and 13 on probation, and fines of $25,000 to be paid by each.

Judge Jerry Baxter delivered on his promise to dole out stiff punishment should the three former top administrators not heed his warning and admit guilt.

“Everyone starts crying about these educators,” Baxter said. There were thousands of children harmed in this thing. This is not a victimless crime.”

Teachers, principals and testing coordinators received sentences of up to five years with at least one-year in prison and fines ranging from $1,000 to $5,000. All the defendants were granted first-offender status, meaning their record would be wiped clean after they served their time.

Only two of the 10 convicted educators, Donald Bullock and Pamela Cleveland, chose to admit guilt and waive the right to appeal. They did not receive prison time.

Shani Robinson, who gave birth to a 7-pound, 13-ounce baby boy Saturday, is scheduled to be sentenced in August. How much time she will get to spend with her newborn, Amari, is anyone’s guess.

Beverly Robinson, Shani’s mother, said the proceedings left her speechless.

“My mind was just racing the entire time,” she said.

As she had days earlier, she spoke in measured tones that belie what amounts to a tornado ripping through her family. Her main concern now is her new grandson.

“He shouldn’t have to grow up without his mother,” she said.

Robinson, who taught 37 years in DeKalb schools, understands the magnitude of the APS case. She realizes that the real victims are the children who didn't gain the knowledge they deserved. But it's hard for her to forget that when Shani decided to go into teaching, she wasn't simply following in her mother's footsteps.

“Shani wanted to be a teacher to make a difference in the world,” she said.

Shani Robinson graduated in 2006 from Tennessee State University with degrees in psychology and African studies. In 2008, she landed a position at APS as part of the Teach for America program. When she wasn’t in the classroom, she was an assistant Girl Scouts leader, planned her school’s mother-daughter teas and prepared food for her students to take home on weekends because she knew some of them wouldn’t eat if she didn’t. She also co-founded a non-profit called Street Skillz to teach job readiness to high schoolers.

“She loved teaching,” her mother said.

Shani’s story is the kind you’d expect. But it’s also why I think it’s so hard to explain how this case ever came to be.

Among the many disheartening things I found about the APS case is what supporters of Shani and the others convicted keep telling me, that teachers cheating is nothing new, as if that alone is reason enough to give them a pass.

Educators by profession are to be respected, even admired. So it is befuddling to their supporters that people look upon Shani and the others with contempt. As Judge Jerry Baxter said during the sentencing hearing, there are those who believe he should “throw the book” at them.

Susan Washington has spent the past 26 years as a classroom teacher. She was among the hundreds who turned out for a rally in support of the convicted educators.

“This could have happened to any of us,” Washington said. “They have been punished already. When you take their license, what will they do? We’re sending children to college who can’t read. What do we do about that?”

It’s one of the questions, Denise Freeman of Lincolnton would like answered, too.

“I’m still trying to figure out how it was racketeering,” said Freeman, who drove to the rally with her husband.

Not even the law professors I talked to could answer that one. They say its very unusual for teachers or people in education to be prosecuted on RICO violations.

“In general, it doesn’t come close to the broader application of the law over the last 30 years,” said James Cohen, an associate professor in the Fordham University School of Law. “And it doesn’t fit the crime. As serious as cheating is, it’s not an offense that has a value close to 20 years.”

Until No Child Left Behind and Race To the Top, standardized tests were used primarily to evaluate students. Even then, they were controversial, said Mark Naison, a professor of African American History at Fordham University who has spent years fighting against the overuse of standardized testing.

Many believe such tests are biased against low income students and students of color, Naison said. Once test results began being used to evaluate teachers and schools, a truly toxic environment was created in many urban districts, he said. Low student performance can now result in teachers and administrators being fired and schools being closed.

“With educators’ livelihoods and reputations at stake, the pressure to raise test scores from students who were already under great stress became overwhelming,” Naison said. “It is understandable to see how some educators, in this immoral and untenable position, chose to manipulate test scores rather than put their students under even greater stress. The big scandal is how these tests are being used by policy makers, not how some principals and teachers fudged the tests to protect their students and preserve their own careers.”

That’s the thing that has been weighing so heavily on Beverly Robinson.

“It’s been a nightmare,” she said. “The only thing that has kept us going is our faith. If God wanted to use my baby to expose the injustice in our schools and the judicial system, I accept it. I just don’t know how this is a criminal case.”

The hardest part, Robinson said, has been hearing Shani’s name being lumped with the scandal.

“I feel like I sent her to make a difference with children and this is how it turned out,” she said. “Shani said to me recently, ‘I just want my good name back.’ And I told her everybody who knows you knows your good name.”