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In city classrooms, teachers with class

Kathleen Sligh's colleagues at Roxborough High call her "an education angel." At George Washington High, Yvonne Schwiker is a "treasure and an inspiration," her principal said.

Lindback Award winning teachers (from left): Kareem Demitrius Edwards, Parkway West High; Kathleen Sligh, Roxborough High; and Yvonne Schwiker, George Washington High. (Left, center: April Saul; right: Clem Murray / Staff Photographers)
Lindback Award winning teachers (from left): Kareem Demitrius Edwards, Parkway West High; Kathleen Sligh, Roxborough High; and Yvonne Schwiker, George Washington High. (Left, center: April Saul; right: Clem Murray / Staff Photographers)Read more

Kathleen Sligh's colleagues at Roxborough High call her "an education angel."

At George Washington High, Yvonne Schwiker is a "treasure and an inspiration," her principal said.

Kareem Demetrius Edwards "helped me to realize that my potential as a student is more powerful than anything," one of his pupils at Parkway West High said.

They are emblematic of excellent teachers citywide - men and women who spend nights and weekends on schoolwork, who dip into their own pockets for supplies, who take a personal interest in their students' lives.

They are among the 66 winners of the Philadelphia School District's Lindback Distinguished Teaching Prize, given to high school educators. On Tuesday night, each of the winners will receive $3,500 from the Lindback Foundation at an awards ceremony.

It's tough to ace Kathleen Sligh's science class at Roxborough High.

"I tell my students I don't give A's. If you get an A from me, that means you earned it, and you'll pass your PSSAs [student assessments] and your benchmarks," she said.

Sligh is a bundle of energy - always on her feet moving around the classroom, leading hands-on lessons, keeping students on-task with a quiet word and a warm smile.

This wasn't the career path she envisioned. Forty-three years ago, she took a teaching job as a way to earn money for medical school.

But she fell in love with the profession, the way she could reach students and get them as excited about exploring the unknown as she was.

At her request, Sligh teaches all ninth graders - considered by many the toughest high school assignment - and even now, in her last weeks of teaching before retirement, she still gets a charge from her charges, she said.

"They're diamonds in the rough in ninth grade - you think, 'What am I going to do with this kid?' And then you see changes in them, you get them through, and that means a lot," Sligh, 66, said.

She followed her minister husband, taking teaching jobs in Ohio, Minnesota, and finally Philadelphia, in 1980. She's taught at Strawberry Mansion, Martin Luther King, and the Girard Academic Music Program in addition to Roxborough, where she chairs the science department.

A current student marvels at her gifts.

"Whenever you needed someone to talk to, Mrs. Sligh was always there - no matter what the problem was. She never yells. Of course, nobody knows science better than Mrs. Sligh," junior NaKyle Furbert wrote.

Much has changed since she began her career, Sligh said - most notably more standardized tests and more prescriptive curriculum.

"There are too many distractions. You really have to work a lot harder to motivate the. I tell my students the gadgets have stolen their brain," she said and laughed.

A contagious enthusiasm

One of the students in Yvonne Schwiker's life-skills class at Washington High was struggling to come up with the two numbers between seven and 10, and the girl was getting angry with herself.

But Schwiker has deep reserves of patience and a firm belief that even the neediest special-education student has the capacity to shine.

"Look at Miss Yvonne," she coaxed in a cheerful voice. "What comes after seven? You don't remember? OK, let's count."

With her teacher's help, the girl remembered eight and nine. The room erupted in shouts of joy; the girl beamed. That's what she loves most about her job, Schwiker said.

"My students love to come to school, they love to learn," Schwiker, 39, said. "We take so much for granted, but the little things matter to them."

Schwiker is a Washington graduate who still lives in the Northeast. She's one of nine children and got into special education because of her youngest brother, Bobby Effrig, who has Down syndrome.

She grew up close to him and often babysat him and other special-needs children. Effrig is a popular visitor to her classroom, where 19 students focus on academics in the morning and in the afternoon master life skills like counting money, crossing parking lots safely, and cooking.

To Schwiker, who came to Washington five years ago after Rush Middle School closed, an important part of her job is making sure her pupils, ages 13 to 21, feel like they're part of the Washington community.

"I want them to be seen and heard and their talents noticed," she said.

So her students pal around with the football team - they've baked brownies to send players on a trip to Texas, and proudly wash and sort the team's uniforms. She holds fund-raisers so her seniors can attend their prom; her students put on a talent show and hold weekly pretzel sales.

Sophomore Jenny Bendig described Schwiker as "an awesome teacher. She helps me with my reading and math."

Debra Bendig said her daughter was more confident and comfortable in the classroom because of Schwiker.

"Mrs. Schwiker's enthusiasm is contagious," Debra Bendig said. "We would like to thank her from the bottom of our hearts."

Going 'above and beyond'

Kareem Demetrius Edwards grew up in foster care in West Philadelphia. He was smart, especially in math, but he loved to play class clown.

But a principal at Sayre Middle School was a role model, the first real male influence in his life. And his high school math teacher, Schnee Grayson, remembers seeing something special in the boy, who always finished his work early and helped classmates through tough problems.

"I always knew I wanted to be a teacher," Edwards said.

Just two years into his teaching career at his alma mater, Edwards is already a standout, said Grayson, who's now vice principal at the school.

"He goes above and beyond," Grayson said. "He realizes if he doesn't educate the total child, he can't help them academically."

A slim man with glasses and a quiet voice, Edwards, 25, could easily be mistaken for one of his students. But when he stands in front of an Algebra I class, his students listen.

"There are two solutions to every square root. What are they?"

Every student in the room answered: "A negative and a positive!"

Edwards requires a lot from his students, they say. But he always has time to talk about problems, whether it's about troubles at home or quadratic equations. Students know how to reach him via e-mail and phone.

Sophomore Seanna Williams said Edwards had already made a big impression.

"It seems that my teacher has become more than just a person that stands at the top of the classroom, but a father figure," Williams wrote of Edwards.

He's gratified.

"I remember what it was like to be in high school, to grow up in the city," Edwards said. "My students are like me. You have years when you have subs all year, or teachers that don't teach. I tell them, 'To have a teacher that actually cares and wants to help, I would take advantage of that.' "

As much as he loves teaching, Edwards has his sights set elsewhere. He's already on his way to a graduate degree in educational leadership at Arcadia University, and he wants to be a principal and eventually Philadelphia's superintendent.

And though he won't always be in the classroom, he's in urban education for the long haul, he said.

"There's always something to fight for," he said. "There are so many problems, but there's so much to fight for."