This article is part of Bright Spots, a series highlighting schools where every child learns to read, no matter their zip code. Explore the Bright Spots map to find out which schools are beating the odds in terms of literacy versus poverty rates.
For years, many teachers at Frederick Douglass Elementary School didn’t know the names of all their students.
Those were dark years before principal Carol Leveilee arrived at the Seaford, Delaware school.
Kids were never greeted by staff when they entered the building. It was a familiar sight to see school aides in the back of classrooms on their cellphones and children fighting or running out of the building. There was no art on the hallway walls, decorated instead with mold and paint that looked like it was original to the school’s opening in 1922.
The school felt like a “prison,” multiple teachers said — dark, dreary with overwhelming behavior problems amounting to over 300 suspensions in one year. The school was like the district’s “stepchild,” veteran staff said — a school no one wanted to send their kids to, ranked last in test scores; and on the edge of a state takeover 12 years ago.
“I really thought about quitting teaching. I didn’t want to teach anymore because it was that bad here,” said fourth-grade teacher Mike Hurlock. “In my second year I was feeling like, ‘I’m gonna go be a corrections officer because I’m already [one] here.’ ”
Hurlock filled out an application for a nearby prison and decided to wait one more year before submitting it.
His wait paid off. Leveilee arrived in September 2014, bringing with her a dramatic overhaul.
“It saved my career,” Hurlock said, now a 15-year veteran teacher at the school. “There was never a sense of pride — until Carol got here.”

Armed with more than 30 years of experience, 11 as an elementary teacher and the rest in administration in schools across Charles County, Maryland, Leveilee had been on the brink of retirement before she took the job at Frederick Douglass.
She felt her work wasn’t finished.
“I didn’t feel like I’d done enough or helped enough kids yet,” she said. “I saw [Frederick Douglass] was high needs and I knew I wanted a challenge. I didn’t know quite how big of a challenge I was getting myself into … [but] I just felt like I was meant to be here.”
It may have felt like an overwhelming transition at first, but Leveilee has made all the difference at the school an hour south of Dover, the state capital.

The veteran educator not only saved Hurlock’s career, but also thousands of kids along the way, providing them a school where they would be educated and emotionally supported.
Now, at 8 a.m. every morning, hundreds of students flood out from a row of yellow school buses. Outside the school’s front door stand Leveilee and other staff who are swarmed with high-fives, hugs and laughing children racing to get inside.
As the children enter the building, they’re also greeted with banners recognizing the school as a 2020 National Blue Ribbon School and a 2024 Delaware Department of Education Recognition School alongside blue bulletin boards highlighting kids of character and upcoming birthdays — all a testament to the school’s transformation under Leveilee.
Throughout her time at Frederick Douglass, Leveilee has created spaces that are warm and celebrate students.
She got rid of staff that didn’t see her vision or fully commit to the idea that everything done at the school is what’s best for kids. And most importantly, she fought for her school, several staff members said, whether it was pushing back against layoffs, advocating for renovations or paying for supplies out of her pocket.
“You see Carol and you don’t see her as a fighter. She looks like she’s somebody’s grandmother, just sweet — but no, she’s a fighter,” Hurlock said. “She came in and fought for us, and the difference in the students [and staff dynamics], just in one year, was tremendous.”
Frederick Douglass Elementary School enrolls about 500 students in grades 3-5, a majority of whom are children of color and from low-income backgrounds. Expected to have a reading proficiency of 32.8%, according to a data project focused on Bright Spot schools launched by , it’s defying the odds at 60.5% and is among Delaware’s top five exceptional schools.
For educators who have stuck out the journey, they say the school’s transformation feels “unreal” and “something that you dream of.” They credited Leveilee as the sole factor in the school’s success, but she argues it was the relationships that were built.
“Some people say you start with instruction, but in my opinion, in this building, I could have had the best curriculum possible, state-of-the-art smart boards and everything, and we would have been taken over by the state,” Leveilee said, “because it’s all about people.”
Soon to be 12 years, the principal’s commitment to the school continues to pay off in strong staff retention, low disciplinary referrals and growing student achievement.
Cleaning house
When most people hear B.C., they think of dinosaurs or other prehistoric periods, but Jen Covington thinks of it as “Before Carol.”
Covington, a former third and fifth grade teacher who recently became the school’s special education coordinator, taught at Frederick Douglass Elementary School for 15 years before Leveilee’s arrival. Off the top of her head, she could rattle off at least six principals and 12 assistant principals that were part of a leadership revolving door.
“It was pretty much a free-for-all,” Covington said. “There weren’t set guidelines. There weren’t expectations. … Nobody was on the same page.”
Shannon Rolph, another veteran staff member who joined the school in 2004, said Frederick Douglass had hit rock bottom and remained there for several years before Leveilee.
“There was no consistency. There was no leader,” Rolph said, a former third and fourth grade teacher turned reading coach. “It just was not a great place to work. The behaviors were crazy, … but I lived here in Seaford. My kids went here. I was invested.”
So, when Leveilee came to the lower Delaware city in 2015, it took time to gain trust, both teachers said.
“For those of us that had been here, it was like, ‘OK, here comes another one. How long are they gonna stay? How invested are they gonna be?’ ” Covington said.
Just like the teachers at the school, Leveilee had no idea what was in store when she signed her first three-year contract.

She remembers walking into the school on her first day and no one acknowledged her or offered her the keys to her office. When she toured the campus, she couldn’t figure out why the hallway was so dark, until a teacher told her they had the custodian take out all the center lights because they didn’t want people looking at walls full of ripped paper, chipping yellow paint and destroyed cork boards.
Just 32% of third graders were proficient in reading and the school was under “a constant magnifying glass” she said with recurring visitors from the state asking questions, doing walkthroughs and scrutinizing student data.
Like the hallways at the school, it was a dark time for Leveilee.
“I’ll never forget my first year was all defeats,” she said. “I got here and I regretted my decision daily. I cried myself to sleep many nights. I worked 16-hour days, seven days a week. … People didn’t like kids. Kids didn’t want to be here. Parents didn’t like the school.”
But, Leveilee knew her students were her saving grace.
“Every single one of those kids needed me,” Leveilee said. “They needed me to hire the best teachers and staff possible. They needed me to wake the para up that was always asleep in the chair. … Needed me to tell the kindergarten teacher in my first year, ‘You know teaching isn’t good for you, you don’t like our kids’ and those hard conversations. Those 383 kids were counting on me and my team.”
Within two months, it was clear to Leveilee it was time to clean house, both among staff and the actual physical space of the school.
She first tasked teachers with cleaning out their rooms, many filled with decades of outdated material.
“We were like ‘Why does she care about what’s in our closet? … Why does she keep telling us to clean out our filing cabinet? … She’s lost her mind,’ ” Covington said, gritting her teeth with an eye roll before laughing at the memory. “But, what [we later realized is], when your space is organized and clean, you become more effective.”

Leveilee was in and out of classrooms, taking notes on a notepad she still wears around her neck and that staff now jokingly call “her brain.” Within three months, seven teachers were put on improvement plans.
By Christmas, two of those educators had left. In her first three years, about half of the staff followed, Leveilee said.
‘We needed a leader’
When Reesie Jones and Monika Kittell arrived at Frederick Douglass Elementary School a year before Leveilee, they were long-time veteran aides.
But in that year, they learned that students ran the school. The kids’ behaviors were out of control, disrespectful and students didn’t care about the consequences, they said. Suspension was a normal occurrence, and anytime one of them was called to be a substitute, they’d ask the other to come for extra support.
“We needed a leader,” Jones said. “We were in desperate need of a leader.”
In Leveilee’s first year, she bought everyone a copy of The Energy Bus for Schools by Jon Gordon. Weekly, she assigned a chapter to read and led discussions. The book stressed the importance of collaboration and how everyone needed to be heading in the same direction, said Kittell, now a third grade teacher.
“If you are a Negative Nelly, you need to get off the bus. [Leveilee] would truly say ‘If you are not part of this bus, you need to get off because you’ll bring all us down,’ ” Kittell said. “That’s how it all started shifting.”
After 11 years, the veteran educators — including Jones, Kittell and Rolph — have kept yellow toy school buses that were gifted after completing the book.
“Some did not give it a chance. … It took a few years to get some people out that just weren’t here for the right reasons. Carol wasn’t going anywhere, so either you needed to change or…” Rolph said, trailing at the end of her sentence with a laugh.
Changing from reactive to proactive
A handful of other changes occurred simultaneously in Leveilee’s early years, including a new piloted reading curriculum, aligned with the science of reading, which has stuck around.
The district also reconfigured the school from a K-3 campus to 3-5, which shifted demographics and created more diversity within the city’s four elementary schools.
Curriculum alignment and reconfiguration in the district were catalysts to some growth, but continuing work on school climate was the biggest challenge — and game changer.
Beyond staffing changes, the actual campus needed an overhaul.
“The decor was probably the same from the time the building was constructed,” Rolph said. “We saw other schools and they looked so nice, and it was just like, why didn’t anyone care to fix our grounds up?”
More than just cleaning closets, Leveilee had the school repainted, cork boards installed to decorate the halls with students’ proudest work, new furniture installed, murals painted and fences and landscaping fixed outside.

While it began with small cosmetic changes, Leveilee was also acutely aware of the needs of students.
“When I first came here, there were 312 suspensions,” Leveilee said. “Not only are [our kids] in high poverty, but they come with huge backpacks filled with trauma. … We had to do something because sending these kids home was not the answer.”
In Leveilee’s first few years, she kept a dozen students with her and out of the classroom because of behavioral issues. She would take children into the cafeteria to try and regulate them, which eventually led to the creation of the Reflection Suite and Positive Path.
The Positive Path extends through two hallways, decorated with Legos, velcro tic-tac-toe and coloring paper walls, where kids can get 10-minute passes to go into the hallway and “reset.”
The Reflection Suite is a series of rooms, some empty to prevent a child from hurting themselves, and others filled with bean bags and motivation quotes on the wall for when students are overwhelmed or need sleep. In the Reflection Suite, students can also meet with counselors.
“Prior to Carol coming in and reworking the whole system, it was very much punishment based,” Covington said.
But now, the relationship has changed. This year, there have been only three suspensions.
“You can tell when their feet hit the pavement … what kind of morning they had had, what kind of night they had — if they needed to just go in the Reflection Suite and sleep the first hour because they were up taking care of a one-year-old little brother or sister,” Covington said. “We have to take care of all their basic things first before we can ever expect them to learn.”
In addition to having designated spaces to regulate student behavior, there’s an incentive model, including positive office referrals, character slips that praise a child’s positive decision-making and other rewards which have changed how kids view school.
Over time, the changes began to come together.
“Once the kids started realizing staff checks on them — whether it’s the reading specialist, whether it’s the nurse, whether it’s the cafeteria — … we turned the behaviors from reactive to proactive,” Rolph said. “They just needed to feel that this is a safe place.”
The behavioral improvements led to a 37 percentage point increase in reading scores between 2014-15 and 2018-19.
Before the COVID-19 pandemic, 70% of third graders at Frederick Douglass Elementary School were reading on grade level.
The school saw a dip after the pandemic, which persists, but reading scores remain higher than the state average, which was . Math scores at Frederick Douglass are also nearly double the state average.
Twelve years later
When Leveilee walks around Frederick Douglass, kids stop her in the hallway for a hug and start telling her about their weekend. When she stands by a classroom door, kids wave. When one student passed on his way to the bathroom, Leveilee knew to ask about the passing of his grandfather and to ask if he was doing OK.
For most students, if you ask about their favorite thing at Frederick Douglass Elementary, they admittedly say recess, but a close second is the staff.
“I really like the playground and the teachers and the stuff that they do in the school,” said David Impert, a fourth grader. “I really love all this.”
Fifth graders said they feel ready and prepared for their next academic journey, but confess it’s a little scary to be leaving a place that’s made them feel heard and accepted for who they are.

“I’ve just had a lot of people who understand me. A lot of people, when I tell them I want to be a bug scientist, basically, they’re like ‘Ew, what? That’s weird.’ But I come here and they’re like ‘Wow that’s cool. How can we help you learn more about this?’ ” said fifth grader Willow Pinkerton.
Those responses are not something that would’ve been heard 10 years ago, Leveilee said.
Teachers see the difference too, especially with some of the highest-need children.

“I’ve had kids that have been through [the Division of Family Services], and have been [emotionally] withdrawn, but as soon as they’re back [to school], they’re so excited to be here because it’s their safe place,” Hurlock said.
For teachers, they say one of their favorite parts of the job is Leveilee. Several educators said she spoils them, and they can’t imagine what the school will look like without her one day.
“I could probably cry,” Covington said. “There are many times that she fights for teachers and teachers don’t even know that she’s fighting for them. I truly think that there is never going to be another like her.”
As for Leveilee, finding a new place to call a second home has been one of her favorite parts of the journey. She doesn’t cry every night anymore, she said, and the challenges were worth it to see the school thrive.
“I’m so glad that I did come, and for the sake of these kids that they’re able to learn and laugh in a much better setting than what they were in,” Leveilee said, “and to me that’s worth all the tears, all the gray hair, all the stress.”
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