Even though it’s not in my nature, you have to just, like, take a minute, because it’s a big deal.” We’re in Cami Anderson’s private office. The Newark, New Jersey, school superintendent has just held a joint press conference with the head of the teachers’ union to announce a historic contract. Half of a $100 million donation made by Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg to the Newark Public School system in 2010 will sweeten a new agreement with teachers, who have been working without a contract for two and a half years. There will be a new performance-evaluation system, incorporating peer review, as well as bonuses for teachers who opt out of the old seniority rules–carrots alongside sticks. The agreement is already being hailed nationwide as groundbreaking.
Anderson–41, tall, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed–sits back in her chair, pulling her hair into a ponytail. The cinder-block walls and dead-fish fluorescent lighting contribute to the vibe of a locker room after a big win. The challenge in Newark is intense: Nearly half the students drop out, and 90% of graduates who do go to college need remedial classes. For Anderson, who counts among her supporters Democratic Newark mayor Cory Booker and Republican New Jersey governor Chris Christie, the scrutiny is equally intense; Booker has announced a Senate run, and Christie is widely expected to run for President, with both likely to tout her achievements on the campaign trail. As Joel Klein, Anderson’s boss when he was chancellor of the New York City Department of Education, says, “Nobody gives you $100 million and says, ‘Have a happy life.'”
When Anderson was offered the job as Newark superintendent, she almost turned it down, wary of the national spotlight. “My female CEO friends had to do an intervention,” she says. “They sat me down and said, ‘Don’t be a girl. Take the mike.'” She’s shown little uncertainty since then. “I got into this because I feel like education is an opportunity to make good on the promise of America,” she says, “to stop being a country where race and poverty determine your life outcomes.” Wendy Kopp, who runs Teach for America, where Anderson started her career, says: “I don’t think there’s a more perfect example of someone coming into a situation and operating on the highest of expectations–both for kids and for adults.” Booker calls Anderson “someone I’m in awe of.” Says Klein: “She literally takes your breath away.”
It’s morning, and I climb into the messy backseat of Anderson’s black Escalade, her official city ride. Her driver, Billy Jarrett, hands her a foil-wrapped egg sandwich, another in a long succession of foil-wrapped meals. She reaches back to shake my hand, but quickly; we’re running behind.
