The Harlem Children's Zone

How One Man's Vision To Revitalize Harlem Starts With Children

(CBS) 
"I grew up in a very similar condition to a lot of our children," he explains. "Single mom, she had four kids, overwhelmed, doing the best she could do, living in tenements with roaches and mice and rats. That’s something that’s driven me, I think, all of my life."

It is Canada’s passion and commitment that inspired Stanley Druckenmiller to donate tens of millions of dollars to the Harlem Children’s Zone.

"I invest in companies and other things for – for a living. And I can tell a good management and a good leader when I see one," says Druckenmiller, who made his personal fortune, estimated at more than $1 billion, as one of the most successful hedge fund managers on Wall Street.

Druckenmiller admits he initially had reservations about project. "I was sort of terrified by the financial challenge," he recalls.

As chairman of the board of the Children’s Zone, Druckenmiller has enlisted the financial support of other philanthropists. He also helped develop a business plan that demands accountability and results.

"So if they don't produce, you're saying that you'll pull your support from that?" Bradley asked.

"That's a little harsh," Druckenmiller says. "But yeah, let me put it a different way. The intensity and level of the support will be directly related to outcomes that are produced."

To get the outcomes he wants, Canada takes money from his budget and puts it directly into the pockets of his students. He hands out cash every month to the children with perfect attendance at the Promise Academy.

Canada says the notion of bribing students doesn't bother him one bit. "Why?" he asks. "If I know that those kids are gonna fill our penitentiaries, that we're gonna be spending in New York City 45 and $50,000 a year on that child for 20 years, I mean $20? Doesn't bother me one bit."

To reach as many children in the zone as possible, Canada put reading labs in public elementary schools and provided SAT tutoring to high schoolers

He teaches karate to instill discipline and offers medical help for the disproportionate number of children here who suffer from asthma. But in order to save the children, Canada says he has to save their parents first.

And that begins at the Baby College — a nine-week workshop that literally teaches new parents how to raise their kids so that they will enter school ready to learn.

"Middle-class families know education begins at birth. Poor parents don't know that," Canada explains. "We're just trying to tell the parents, 'Look you have to start giving them the kinds of stimulation that’s gonna help those brains develop.'"

Parents also learn good habits — like how to impose discipline without physical force.

That may sound obvious, but it wasn’t to Darlene Anozier, who was orphaned at the age of seven and grew up in state facilities. Before attending the Baby College, she says she didn’t know how to discipline her son without hitting him.

"How do you keep 'em in control, you know, if you don't hit 'em, you know?" Anozier asked. "And they said 'no, it's not good to hit.' And I say, well, what other things can I do?" she asks.

With her husband on disability, providing for her family is often difficult. So the Harlem Children’s Zone has helped Darlene buy provisions when she’s run out of money and also referred her to an adult education class to pursue her GED, so she can try to keep up with her 7-year-old son, Richar.

"I want him to know education is the most important thing," she explains.

Richar started school at this pre-kindergarten run by the Harlem Children’s Zone, which opened a $250 college fund for him and offers one to all pre-kindergarteners, adding to those funds every year.
Richar says "as much as it kills me," he does want to go to college.
"Much as it kills you. Why would it kill you going to college?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah because they got people, words that I don't know," Richar explains.

"But you'll learn new words every year so that by the time you get to college you'll know all those words," Bradley reassured Richar.

"Yeah, but they’re not gonna teach me those words because they’ll think that I’m so smart I know those words," he replied.

Asked if she still worries about her son's future, Darlene says, "No."

That’s because Richar, now in first grade, has exceeded her expectations at the Promise Academy, where the school day is longer, summer vacation lasts only three weeks, and many kids go to school on Saturdays. Canada is able to run the school his way, free from the restrictions of the public education system that he says has been failing Harlem’s children for so long.