Moises Hernandez sits at his desk in his dorm room of Ripley Hall at the Naval Academy Preparatory.
A stack of books lines the shelf behind him. To their left, a black-and-white service hat. His uniform has been folded and retired for the day in a drawer beneath his bed.
In four months, Hernandez will be finishing his Plebe Summer, a seven-week program designed as an introduction to the military, where civilians are turned into midshipmen. He will have learned the importance of self-discipline, reached top physical condition and married the basics of boat handling and seamanship.
By then, he will be four months closer to becoming a U.S. Marine.
Hernandez, 18, knows what the next 25 years look like: he will go from Plebe, to Youngster, to declaring his major, computer engineering, before entering the summer of service selections. He then plans to serve for 20 years, before “possibly becoming an astronaut.”
Hernandez – the first in his family to serve, go to college or be born in the United States – has not always been so concrete about his future. When he first started at University Prep Value High School in Los Angeles in 2016, he didn’t plan on going to college. He thought, hazily, he would enlist in the military instead.
Yet the high school, one of four public charters born from the Value Schools organization in L.A., saw something more for Hernandez, an honors student and active member of the school’s Leadership Council. Founded upon five core values and a mission to provide high-quality education for historically underserved communities, the school would hardly let Hernandez forget its second value:
Each student can develop to his or her fullest potential.
One day during Hernandez’s sophomore year, he and his English teacher, Mr. Pacis, also the school’s vice principal, met to talk about his “path” and “what would be best for him.”
“Being the first is the most difficult thing, because you’re the stepping stone for future people to emulate,” Hernandez said. “Knowing you’re capable of doing something, or you’re capable of going to a prestigious school is definitely something that not a lot of people believe they can do.”
That was when Pacis, who Hernandez calls “lolo,” grandpa in Filipino, told him he could go to college and serve in the military. Both.
“He said, like, if anything, you’re going to be a leader,” said Hernandez. “You’re going to this school, we’re preparing you for a leadership role, and you’re the best fit for being an officer.
“After that I was like, ‘You know what, I agree with you. I’m going to apply to the Naval Academy. And I’m going to go.’”
Three years later and 3,000 miles away, he can remember the fourth floor of 700 Wilshire Blvd., and the spot where his biological grandfather dropped off him and his brother each morning. He thinks of his baseball team celebrating a win at Chick-Fil-A, or the community events and annual toy drive for which he always enjoyed volunteering.
He also remembers the five core values as they relate to the three he now holds.
“Honor, I can relate that to value No. 1. Courage. Have the courage to develop yourself. That’s value No. 2,” Hernandez said. “Always push yourself to do better, never settle for less and respect yourself. It’s value No. 3.”
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Dr. Jerome Porath was superintendent of schools for the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles when the Charter Schools Act of 1992 was signed into California law.
The Milwaukee native had spent the majority of his career educating at-risk youth in L.A.’s inner-city neighborhoods. As multiple downtown Catholic schools prepared to close, he saw that the new legislation and charter school movement presented an opportunity – to create a school centered on values.
Things that “would stay with you for life,” said Grant Cambridge, Value Schools Board chair and Foundation Board chair.
In the late 90s, Porath and a small team of educators began sketching their plans for Downtown Value School, a K-8 elementary charter that would offer values-based education to 480 low-income students.
The school, on the border between Pico Union and South L.A., was running at full capacity when Cambridge joined the board in 2007. One year later, Value Schools’ second permanent facility opened, this time a high school located in Koreatown in Central L.A.
The schools, with an academic year longer than most starting in early August and ending in June, focus on small classroom sizes.
Casey Frye moved from Catholic to public school during her early elementary years. She wasn’t sure her teachers knew her name.
When Frye came to Downtown Value School as a fourth grader in 2003, she suddenly felt seen.
Value School’s fourth value belongs to building “a safe, nurturing community.” In order to learn, it says, students must “genuinely care for each other and seek good for each other” so that they “feel secure and supported in efforts to grow in every way.”
“It was almost like the flip of a switch,” Frye said. “When I went to school… It was a home. These are my people. These are my teachers. These are my friends. This is my family.”
Every morning before school, Frye and her mother would drive 60 miles west from San Bernandino, where her mother worked a minimum-wage job while raising Frye and her three siblings.
For some students, it’s not as simple.
In 2016, Edgar Ballesteros was in his second year of teaching at Central City Value High School. He spent the majority of his time assisting English-language learners, some of whom he knew were undocumented.
Ballesteros created a classroom lesson centered around “who you are” and “where you come from.” He brought his DACA permits – which he had only gotten in college – to school, and told his story about coming to the U.S. and learning English.
“I think that just the fact that I was honest with them. This is who I am, this is what I do every two years, this is what can happen if things don’t go well,” Ballesteros said. “I think that brought us closer than I think anything else that I could have done.”
Frye was Valedictorian her senior year. She got in at every college she applied to, including her dream school, UCLA.
But knowing the financial burden it would have on her mom, Frye decided she wouldn’t go. Instead, she would take classes at the local community college, get a job and help her younger brother through school.
On the day of graduation, Cambridge walked on stage to give his first keynote speech as the school’s new Board Chair. The church was packed. He had heard of Frye’s decision just days before.
Cambridge invited Frye and her mother to the stage, where he presented Frye with a scholarship to UCLA.
“When I think about that day,” said Frye, “what I remember most is the pressure of my mom’s hand over mine.”
After graduating from UCLA in 2015, Frye became a mentor at Value Schools, which have since expanded to four schools across the city. She remembers their fifth value, perhaps most:
Service to others and the community is a responsibility of an educated person.
“There’s just something to say about a sense of belonging and feeling like you can be part of something,” said Frye, adding a moment later, “And, really, it boils down to that sense of community.”