Family affair: Siblings run similar Philly schools

DURING THE COURSE of the day, Marilyn Carrion-Mejia deals with a laundry list of issues as principal of William McKinley Elementary. There are the complex needs of nearly 500 kids, concerns from parents and meetings with faculty and staff.

She also gets a daily stream of texts, emails and calls from a principal of a nearby school.

"A thousand times a day," the veteran educator laughed. "Every day, every day."

That principal just happens to be her younger brother, Jason Carrion, a first-year principal at Cayuga Elementary in Hunting Park.

Their close-knit relationship goes back to their childhood growing up on Wingohocking Street, a stone's throw from Cayuga - at the time St. Henry's Roman Catholic School - and attending McClure Elementary just down the street. Their parents, Puerto Rican immigrants, were both hard-working Spanish teachers in the Philadelphia School District who would often talk about work at home.

"I remember going to back-to-school nights or report-card conferences when [my dad] was at Ben Franklin [High]," said Jason. "So, yeah, they would talk about it, talk about the kids and all that, so you would hear the stories. It was pretty interesting. It was good stuff."

Surprisingly, neither Marilyn, 45, nor Jason, 44, initially wanted to teach. After they graduated from Engineering and Science High, both went to Temple - Marilyn to become a lawyer and Jason to major in electrical engineering.

It wasn't until Marilyn's junior year in college that she decided to pursue education. Her father took her to the district recruiter, she said. Upon graduation, she began teaching at Julia de Burgos Elementary in Fairhill.

"Before I knew it, I was in administration," she said.

Jason's path was even more long and winding. After getting his degree, he went to work for the Social Security Administration, but was strongly considering the ministry. When he was about 22, he served as interim pastor of two churches in Camden for about six months. But one day he went to his sister's school to drop off her keys and was hooked.

"It's just like something hits you and you know that this is something you would like to do," the longtime Sunday-school teacher said. "I just felt like I should be in a building working with kids."

A few years later, Jason finally decided to make the switch to teaching full time.

"I like helping people, I like teaching, I like working with people, I like working with kids," he explained. "I think that's kind of weird. Sometimes you hear people saying you know what you [want] to do and you feel it, but until you really experience it . . . I don't know how to explain it sometimes."

After 12 years at de Burgos, Marilyn moved into administration, becoming an assistant principal for two years. By the time she took over as principal at McKinley, a K-8 school in North Philly, Jason was a newly minted math teacher at Edison High.

In 2012, Jason received the Lindback Award, which recognizes the city's top high school teachers. Around the same time, he also got the itch to go into administration. He applied for the Cayuga position this past summer and when he got the email offering him the job, who was the first person he called? His sister.

"She's always been the smartest one," Jason said of his sister, whom he eyes with a wry smile inside his second-floor office. "She was always into reading, she had tons of books.

"I was more into comic books and playing video games," he added, noting that he also tried his hand at sports like his older brother, Malvin, who is now an athletic trainer.

How does Marilyn remember Jason as a kid? "He was a pain," she said playfully.

As brother and sister, the pair has always been close, according to their mother, Virginia Montanez. She recalls them both being active in church - Jason in Sunday school and Marilyn in the choir and youth ministry.

"As a mother, I have been blessed with them because I never [had] trouble with them, so that's why I'm so happy," she said.

The siblings communicate constantly throughout the day, mainly about work and most of it initiated by Jason. Sometimes it's a question about how to deal with a parent or a student or what to expect in a new situation. Regardless of the reason, Jason, the more talkative sibling, doesn't hesitate to reach out.

"Even during the summer when she was on vacation, I was texting her," Jason admitted.

"And I would try to give him hints: 'You know some of us are on vacation, we don't want email,' " Marilyn replied. "And then he would send it to the personal email."

Despite her wisdom as a more experienced principal and the older sister, every now and then Marilyn is the one asking the question. "Sometimes I'm thinking, 'He's going to think I'm dumb for asking the question,' but I do," she said. "There are other veteran folks I could call, but I do ask him."

The two also compete in everything, including meeting deadlines.

"He'll text me, 'I have such and such things completed.' I'm like, 'Well, I have more than you,' " Marilyn joked. "We usually meet deadlines ahead of time."

Jason said he has learned how to be more organized on the job thanks to his sister, who has folders, labels and binders for just about everything. The first time he saw her in action as a principal, he called their mom and said, "Mom, I'm impressed."

"She is so organized, and everything is running and procedures are in place," Jason said, sounding awestruck. "Of course, being a new principal, I'm not there yet."

If their desire to teach is a product of their upbringing, then so is their commitment to give back to their community. Both Marilyn and Jason have made conscious decisions to work in tough, gritty North Philly neighborhoods like the one they grew up in, working in schools some educators would bypass.

That is something their mother said was instilled in them early on.

"A lot of people, when they reach whatever they accomplish in life, they forget about the neighborhood and the people that help them when they were little," the soft-spoken woman said. "I told them to always be faithful [to] the community and try to do the best for them and the community.

"Whatever you do in life, please God and then please yourself," she added.

In spite of high teacher turnover, Marilyn stayed at de Burgos because she said she felt like she was making an impact. And when a principal spot opened up at McKinley, offering the chance to work with a very similar student population, she jumped at the chance.

Likewise for Jason, who cherishes the eight years he spent at Edison before ultimately taking over at Cayuga, a school recently under fire for adults fudging answers on standardized tests.

"I felt like it was an opportunity for me to - I know it sounds weird or cliche or whatever - but to give back, help," Jason said of becoming an administrator.

He said his sister cautioned him before making the choice, in light of the district's financial crisis.

"I said, 'Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?' " Marilyn recalled.

"She did say that, yes," he acknowledged.

"Once you make the commitment, it's about the kids," Marilyn continued. "I just wanted to make sure that he was sure and ready to take this on, because I didn't want him to make a decision and then slack off."

"She was honest. She said it's rough, it's not easy," noted Jason, who keeps two classroom chairs in his office to remind him to keep the focus on the kids.

Running a public school, especially in high-poverty areas, comes with a litany of challenges. Like all public schools in the city, Cayuga and McKinley struggle to provide basic resources administrators once took for granted. They also lack the parent support or valuable community partnerships of a magnet school to fundraise around the shortfall. McKinley does not have a school police officer and the nurse is there just two days a week. On the other hand, Cayuga is fortunate to have a full-time nurse and offer music and art.

The lack of funding has been surreal for the siblings, who fondly recall their public-school education.

"I remember having a full-time librarian and going into the library at least once, twice a week," Marilyn said. "We don't even have funding for those types of extracurricular activities" such as cheerleading and track and field.

Jason, too, has had to tell eager pupils that there is no money in the budget for after-school clubs. He tries to remain positive and points out that when he began teaching a decade ago, his father told him to keep his own box of paper.

"The resources have never been all there," Jason said, "so you just learn to do with what you have, and complaining doesn't do anything."

Beneath the optimism, however, is a very real concern for both administrators that further budget cuts next year could make their jobs go from difficult to backbreaking.

"We've been cut every single year," Marilyn said, "and we're fortunate enough at our school that we do have the staff that steps up to the plate and they take on more responsibility, but you know it can wear you down some time."

"You can only ask them for so much," Jason quickly added.

They know the road ahead will continue to be bumpy, but perhaps their bond as colleagues and as brother and sister will make things a little smoother.

"I do have mentors, but just feeling so comfortable she is my sister, it's just easier for me to reach out to her," Jason said. "I do reach out to other people, but the first person to come to mind is Marilyn."

In typical big-sister fashion, she smiled and added the final word. "I do feel like he's my mentee."