The 25 Best High School Athletic Programs

The engine that drives the school's emphasis on academics is the districtwide magnet program PACE (Program of Additional Curricular Experiences). Every year more than 800 kids from across Long Beach apply for 175 spots in PACE. Entrance standards are so tough that last year an applicant who had a 3.6 GPA and ranked in the 90th percentile in state standardized tests for math and English was not accepted. The kids who get in are as competitive in athletics as they are in academics. PACE coordinator Richard Garretson estimates that in any given year 50%--75% of his students play on one or more teams, and they have a profound effect on the ambitions of the entire student body. Says principal Ashley, "College is all the PACE kids ever talk about, all they ever think about, and that becomes part of the culture of the school. It makes college a tangible goal and a reachable destination for students who might otherwise never have considered it."

A recent Harvard study made headlines with the depressing statistic that the overall graduation rate at California high schools is just 71% and that 43% of African-American and 40% of Latino students in the state drop out. At Poly 90% of incoming freshmen go on to graduate; last year 192 Poly students matriculated to the University of California system. According to Poly that was the most from any high school in the state. This is all the more impressive considering that Poly's 4,750 students--the largest enrollment in the Southern Section--are a multihued snapshot of urban America: 35% Asian, 25% African-American, 15% Latino, 13% white and 12% Pacific Islander.

About the only homogeneity at Poly is on the playing fields. The boys' and the girls' basketball teams are almost entirely black, the golf teams mostly white, the coed badminton squad overwhelmingly Asian, the linemen on the football team traditionally Somoan. But even amidst this apparent sameness there is variety; the badminton team comprises players of Cambodian, Vietnamese, Chinese or Sri Lankan descent, and coach Steve Meckna can shout encouragement in three languages.

Long Beach is California's fifth-largest city, with a population just under 500,000. Like any large metropolitan area, it has its good and bad neighborhoods, but the school's proximity to both extremes makes the differences more jarring. Ten minutes to the east of the Poly campus is the exclusive enclave of Naples Island, which along with other nearby wealthy neighborhoods supplies a surprising number of students, drawn by the PACE program's record of getting its participants into the most exclusive colleges. The shiny examples of German engineering dotting the student parking lot only add to the school's stew.

"We've got everyone from rich kids to the underclass, we've got every race and ethnicity, yet walking down the hallways, it's all love," says senior Pierre Batton, a standout tennis player who carries a business card embossed with the city of Long Beach seal and the spiffy title vice-chair of the commission on youth and children, a position he volunteered for. "We all mingle so well because we truly believe we're all part of one family--Poly."

It hasn't always been that way. In the early '70s Poly was torn apart by a series of race riots, and in the wake of the violence there were discussions about shutting down the school. Instead, a new emphasis was put on creating a magnet program to attract academic overachievers and to foster unity. To eliminate racial prejudice the school began busing sophomores to the San Bernadino mountains every October for a weekend retreat featuring seminars and bonding experiences like evening hikes. These getaways remain an important part of the school's culture of inclusiveness.

Of course Poly is not immune to the realities of the surrounding mean streets. Since 2003 a memorial concert has been held for deceased students, and among the car-crash and drowning victims there has been a handful of kids lost to gang violence. Luckily for the school, that kind of warfare almost never plays out on campus. "This school is the star of the neighborhood. The people here are protective of it because they're so proud of it," says Ashley. "Three blocks away there might be some serious issues, but even the gangbangers respect what we're trying to do here."

Though Snoop Dogg often looks back wistfully in his rhymes about the Crips, the colors that command the most loyalty in central Long Beach are Jackrabbits green and gold, not blue and red. The school ties begin at an early age, with football a beacon for boys who might otherwise be drawn to the sort of violence that doesn't involve shoulder pads. Poly hosts a sprawling Pop Warner program, donating its playing fields and, oftentimes, its coaches. (Snoop regularly pays for equipment and uniforms.) By the time these kids reach high school, they have been indoctrinated in the Poly way, in which winning is important but hardly the only emphasis.

Among the strong father figures in the football program is head coach Raul Lara, Poly class of '84. (Seven of the school's 20 varsity head coaches are alums.) Lara moonlights as a Los Angeles County probation officer, and his football program is run with all the discipline that job title implies. Two avuncular assistants, Herman Davis and Don Norford, are among the most respected men in Long Beach's African-American community. They are close friends, who both graduated from Poly in 1964, and they have been imbued with a deep desire to give back to the school that has given them so much. "Our mission is not to make football players, it's to make men," says Norford, who in 1996 was named the national high school coach of the year by the NFL. "People on the outside think we only care about winning, but to us it's more important to build character, to teach right from wrong, to teach these kids to take responsibility, to teach them to reach out to each other."

In the wake of last December's tsunami, the football team organized a liftathon in which fellow students pledged 25 cents for each weight-room repetition. A check for nearly $200 was subsequently sent to the Red Cross. On a recent Saturday morning several football players were among the numerous Poly athletes who worked as volunteers at a community food drive held on campus.