Alliance for Progress Charter School, a North Philadelphia charter roiled by turmoil, has a new leader.
Emmanuel George is now interim chief executive officer, the school’s board of directors chair said in an “important leadership update” recently sent to families. He replaces Stacey Scott, who served as Alliance’s CEO for several years.
George hails from New York City,where he spent 16 years as an educator and administrator in the charter sector. He describes himself as a consultant and school turnaround specialist.
It was not clear whether Scott was fired or voluntarily left. Larry Griffin, the board chair, did not address the circumstances surrounding Scott’s departure in his letter; he did say that Scott “will work with Mr. George to ensure a smooth and orderly transition.”
Alliance for Progress’ charter is up for renewal by the Philadelphia school board this school year.
Alliance, on Cecil B. Moore Avenue, has churned through staff in recent years. Paraprofessionals without college degrees or educational licenses are providing instruction, according to multiple people inside the school. Alliance also kept students on its rolls who did not attend, leading to state payments for children it did not educate, according to people inside the school.
Scott had been working remotely after an Aug. 25 incident in which she stormed into a meeting at the schooland began cursing at Eric Langston, the new principal.
George began his job on Sept. 26. It’s not clear exactly when Scott left her CEO role.
“You can’t trust this snake! Motherf—!” Scott allegedly said when she interrupted Langston’s meeting, according to people with firsthand knowledge. She then walked out of the room, shouting “F— this school,” and left the building.
Langston, who started working at Alliance this summer, had sent an August email to the board outlining concerns about the school, and Scott’s leadership in particular.
Langston spelled out issues around “Scott’s leadership and decision-making, including questions about whether decisions are consistently being made in the best interest of the school,” according to the email, which was obtained by The Inquirer.
Langston said his concerns “have reached a level that gives me significant pause regarding leadership practices, organizational culture, transparency, and the long-term health of Alliance.”
Griffin, in a statementThursday, said, “Alliance continues our review of matters identified by” the Inquirer story. “Given that, we still have no comment at this time.”
Continued worries
An Alliance staff member said the year is still concerningly chaotic.
On one recent day, a lockdown was called around lunchtime because a student could not be located, said the staffer, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of reprisal.
Ten minutes into the lockdown, it was discovered that the student didn’t actually attend Alliance.
“You aren’t aware that you may be missing a student until noon, and someone didn’t even know that student wasn’t in their class,” the staffer said.
“The staff are all great, but we’re all in the same mode of frustration, where we don’t know what’s going on. There’s a lack of communication from higher up. We’re frustrated and worried for the kids.”
Administration seems most focused on the school’s charter renewal, the staffer said.
The staffer said some Alliance students, especially the older ones at the600-studentK-8 school, have picked up on the problems.
“The kids know there’s such a turnover rate, and they can push teachers out. And there’s no consequences for them. They understand the dysfunction, they see teachers leaving all the time. They see their test scores — they’re aware that they’re really behind in reading. Not one grade, the entire school.”
Griffin, in his letter to families, said he knew transitions brought questions, and vowed the board would “remain actively engaged in supporting Mr. George, our faculty and staff and the school community. Our responsibility is to provide the leadership, oversight and stability Alliance needs to continue moving forward.”
The school’s direction must remain clear, Griffin wrote.
“Alliance for Progress exists to create opportunity for our students and help every child learn, grow and succeed,” Griffin said. “That means keeping students at the center of our decisions, supporting the people who serve them every day and strengthening the systems and practices that allow our school to deliver on its mission.”
After being dupedby Hannah Gann, one organization closely affiliated with the Philadelphia School District teacher and activist is dissolving, and another is on a two-month hiatus pending a decision about its future.
The moves come after Gann admitted she lied for years about her identity, claiming at times to be Palestinian, Tunisian, and Black — devastating both groups and drawing national attention to her deception. Gann recently admitted to being a white, Jewish woman, with relatives who she said were Israeli settlers.
“After much reflection, Philly Educators for Palestine has made the decision to dissolve,” a statement read. “We are deeply grateful to everyone who participated, supported, organized, learned, taught, and stood alongside us. We are proud of what we accomplished together and of the community that was built through this work.”
The group, which was not affiliated with the Philadelphia School District but whose members taught in the district, began in early 2024, after charter members, including Gann, organized a “teach-in” about Palestinian history and the conflict in Gaza.
The Racial Justice Organizing Committee,established as an independent group in 2020, is “taking a two-month hiatus to rest, process, and decompress,” the joint statement said.“A decision regarding its future and next steps will be shared by the end of the year.”
Gann’s deception was publicized by both groups earlier this month. The organizations’ members were “stunned, saddened, and angered by this betrayal,” they said at the time.
Gann, in a 10-minute video released after the groups revealed her yearslong hoax, said that she “allowed half-truths and obfuscations to grow into outright lies,” but that she “genuinely wanted to commit to the work I was doing in spite of those lies.”
She has said in a social media post that she was “so, so sorry. It’s so far from being enough, but I don’t know what else to say.”
‘Cosplaying Black’
Most of the teachers and activists who organized with Gann have asked for privacy as they sort through the complicated “why” around her deception.
But one organizer, furious at the damage done by Gann, shared details around Gann’s deception with The Inquirer. The activist asked that her name not be used because she feared reprisal from the community.
Gann sought her out, deliberately befriending her, the organizer said.
At times, the organizer said, Gann was “a little ambiguous” about her background.
“She has moments when she tries to act extra Black, like cosplaying Black,” the organizer said. Gann often wore African print clothing and large earrings, and used African American Vernacular English. “She told people she was mixed. She told someone she was Lebanese.”
But Gann seemed to act differently around different people, slipping on different identities as they suited her.
Gann once talked about having attended an international school in Virginia, the organizer recalled. When the organizer asked Gann how her family, who Gann said had few resources, managed that, “she said, ‘I just used my grandmother’s address; you know how we do.’”
And though it was not a secret that Gann attended the University of Pennsylvania, “she never ever talked about that stuff with me,” the organizer said. “She would always gloss over the Ivy League.”
In some ways, Gann “was such a good friend; she’d do anything for you,” the organizer said — cook a dish, do a favor, show up when you needed her.
But Gann also did things that, in hindsight, give the organizer pause.
“She is intricately involved in teenagers’ lives, and that is very, very concerning to me,” the organizer said. “I’ve seen kids stay at her house because they got kicked out. I’ve seen her going to kids’ parties as a chaperone.”
Members of the Racial Justice Organizing Coalition and the former Philly Educators for Palestine said in a statement they believed Gann, who teaches at the Workshop School, a project-based district high school, deserved consequences from her employer for her actions.
A school district spokesperson said that the district cannot comment on personnel matters, but that support is being provided for any Workshop student or adult who needs it.
The organizer agrees with the call from the Racial Justice Organizing Coalition and former Philly Educators for Palestine group for consequences.
“I think Hannah should get fired,” the organizer said. “This has got to be so traumatizing for those kids. This is a group of kids that don’t trust adults anyway, living in Philly at this time. And they had an adult they thought they could trust, and she was lying about something so fundamental.”
The organizer feels deeply personally duped, too.
“She was trying to get my perspective as a Black woman, and she was white that whole time,” the organizer said. “It was disgusting. The emotional labor that she has utilized from me is so unbelievable — I can never get that time back, I can never get that trust back. I will never speak to her again in my life.”
Further questions
Gann’s actions had troubled some Jewish families in the district long before her deception came to light.
Jason Holtzman, chief of the Jewish Community Relations Council of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia, said families in the district began raising concerns about Gann to the organization three years ago.
“The communities whose identities and experiences she misrepresented were wronged by that deception and deserve honesty and respect,” Holtzman said in a statement.
Gann’s admission that she lied about her identity “also raises serious questions about her conduct as a teacher,” Holtzman said.
“Ms. Gann taught and spoke publicly about Israel and Palestinians while invoking a personal identity and lived experience she now acknowledges were not her own. She testified before the Board of Education as a Palestinian teacher, speaking about ‘our homeland’ and ‘my family living in a war zone.’”
Black, Palestinian, and Tunisian communities “deserve to have their identities and experiences treated with honesty and respect,” Holtzman said. “Jewish students also deserve a classroom where they can be fully themselves, without feeling singled out or ashamed of their Jewish identity or their personal or familial connection to Israel.”
The Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia in 2024 filed a complaint against Keziah Ridgeway, another Philadelphia teacher, accusing Ridgeway of injecting antisemitism into the curriculum and using her personal social media posts to threaten some Jewish parents.
Ridgeway was ultimately kept out of the classroom for a year before she was reassigned to a new school. She has sued the district, alleging anti-Islamic bias. The suit is still pending.
Gann was a staunch defender of Ridgeway, who posted on social media that she confronted Gann when her lies came to light.
“I can no longer be in community with someone who caused so much harm,” Ridgeway wrote. “I hope that she gets the help that she needs.”
This article has been updated to include the name of Jewish Community Relations Council chief Jason Holtzman.
A group of state representatives asked Pennsylvania Attorney General Dave Sunday to investigate whether a “systemic pattern of discrimination” against Jewish students occurs in the Philadelphia School District.
Citing a congressional investigation into Philadelphia and other districts, and reports of antisemitic incidents against city students, members of the Pennsylvania House Republican leadership and Martina White, a Republican representing Philadelphia, wrote to the attorney general urging a probe.
“The Office of Attorney General must ensure that Jewish students have a safe learning environment that is free from discrimination within the SDP,” the representatives wrote in the letter, which was sent Monday. “We ask you to investigate this matter to determine if any criminal activity occurred and take the appropriate action your office deems necessary.”
Monique Braxton, district spokesperson, said the school system “strives to create welcoming and inclusive environments that allow our students to feel safe and heard” and has “taken steps to protect and educate students and staff against antisemitism and other forms of hate and remains committed to fostering learning environments where all students and staff feel safe and supported.”
Sunday’s office did not immediately respond to a request for comment.
The state representatives, in their letter, brought up allegations that some district educators “promote antisemitic content in their classrooms.”
The incidents that prompted that settlement included a swastika drawn on a door, antisemitic slurs, and allegations of social media-based harassment by district teachers and administrators after Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attack on Israel, and Israel’s subsequent military operation in Gaza.
“Local parents have repeatedly indicated that these behaviors and this antisemitic atmosphere continue to persist throughout the SDP,” the representatives wrote. “Jewish students, like all students, should be able to learn in an environment that is free from discrimination.”
The Philadelphia School District is thousands of students under its enrollment projections this school year — and with an important funding deadline looming, Superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr. is sending officials knocking on doors to drum up business.
Central office staff and school workers have been asked to fast-track “Enrollment Acceleration,” a new, district-specific programdirectly engaging families that have left the Philadelphia school system, The Inquirer has learned.
District staff — up to and including chiefs and assistant superintendents — are fanning out across the city, pounding the pavement to try to connect with reluctant families face-to-face. The door knocking began in the last two weeks.
The effort is driven by a shrinking student body in district schools and an Oct. 1 deadline to report enrollment — which drives district funding — to the Pennsylvania Department of Education.
District schools were 4,236 students under their projected enrollment as of Sept. 17, according to internal documents obtained by The Inquirer. District-run alternative programs had 1,051 fewer students than planned.
The school system had projected 116,898 in district schools by Sept. 17, and 2,757 in alternative schools. Instead, its enrollment was 112,662 in district schools and 1,706 in alternative schools.
Asked to comment on the enrollment decline, a district spokesperson said it was too early to estimate annual enrollment because the state’s verification process does not conclude until Oct. 30. But, Monique Braxton said, it’s part of a nationwide trend of dwindling public school enrollment.
“The district’s goal is to get district operated schools as close as possible to that of last year’s number of approximately 116,898 students, such that we can grow our enrollment next school year,” Braxton said in a statement.
Enrollment is down virtually everywhere in the city.
Just two of 15 networks did not lose students, according to the Sept. 17 figures — Learning Network 9, a geographic network of elementary and middle schools in Kensington, Bridesburg, Port Richmond, and Frankford, and Learning Network 15, a network of magnet schools across the city.
Voting with their feet
Once the 2026-27 school year began Aug. 24, it became quickly clear that there were fewer district students in seats than expected.
Many factors likely play into the enrollment decline.
Though academics have generally been improving in the school system — Philadelphia was tops in the nation in its learning rate post-pandemic, according to research out of Harvard and Stanford — the district still struggles, with most students unable to read (33%) or do math (25%) at grade level.
(Philadelphia charter schools’ performance is slightly worse in reading, 31%, and slightly worse in math, 20%.)
Also a likely factor is the effect of the school board voting recently to close 17 schools in the next several years. Officials have said they are doing so to improve academic outcomes for all students, amid 70,000 empty seats citywide, a stock of aging buildings and decades of underfunding, and emphasized that in addition to the closings, they plan to spend billions on renovating 169 of the buildings they’re keeping open — though most of that plan is unfunded.
There are other reasons, too: Some staff say the current political climate has fears of ICE keeping some students out of school. And cyber charter enrollment is growing, with some Philadelphia families choosing the virtual option because of safety fears for their children as the city grapples with a gun violence epidemic.
“The district is a hard sell for some families,” said one central-office employee who was not authorized to speak about the enrollment decline. “You have a lot of families who have just unfortunately lost faith in a lot of the offerings that we have, and they’re voting with their feet.”
A full-court press
Since the surprise decline became apparent when school started, “we’ve been working hard to close the gap,” the employee said.
At first, schools were directed to reach out themselves via calls and emails to students they expected to enroll but who never showed up. Soon, almost-daily briefings on closing the enrollment gap began, and have continued.
Next, the administration moved to canvassing events, asking central office employees and school staff to volunteer to go out in pairs into neighborhoods to reach families. Canvassing also includes trips to neighborhood barbershops, laundromats, and corner stores “trying to convince students to return back to the district, rather than remain in whatever other option they decided on.”
About 75 employees volunteered for the effort, the employee said. It is still ongoing.
Some schools and departments pushed back against the call to directly appeal to students, with officials they didn’t feel comfortable sending staff into neighborhoods. Others are going out, the employee said.
The campaign is an extraordinary step, said the employee.
“I’ve never known an assistant superintendent or anyone going so far as this, being part of canvassing,” said the employee source.
Much is at stake.
“Our funding is based on numbers,” the employee said. (Both state and federal funding are tied to enrollment.)
And the district has generally been shrinking for decades.
In 1999, just after the first charter schools opened in Pennsylvania, the district enrolled 205,199 students in its schools. By 2025, that number was 113,735. (An additional 64,469 students were enrolled in charters.)
The district’s enrollment rose once in the last decade: in 2024-25, jumping by 1,841 students to 117,956. Watlington said he believed the next year’s drop happened because of large-scale SEPTA bus route changes at the start of the school year.
‘Warm conversations’
A second employee involved in the recent recruitment efforts said the call to canvass came with surprising urgency.
“They said, ‘It needs to be done in the next two weeks, because our numbers have to go to the state Oct. 1,’” said the employee, who also asked to not be identified because they were not authorized to speak about the enrollment push.
The second employee was paired with another volunteer. They received a several-page handout with instructions about how to conduct the visits, and a suggested script.
“We’re reaching out because we want to make sure your child has a clear plan for school and see how we can support you,”the second employee said.
Canvassers were told to ask if the family planned to return their children to the district, to begin a “warm conversation” and to help families with information about how to register for district schools. They were told to help address any barriers to registration.
Teams were told their safety is paramount, asked to not enter homes, and reminded to end a visit if either team member feels unsafe.
“Remember,” one handout said, “you are there to understand, inform, support and connect — not to convince.”
The second employee wasn’t especially enthusiastic about canvassing, but felt pressure to do so.
“What can I say on somebody’s doorstep to get them registered in the school district? Nothing,” the employee said.
The first employee said they were not having success with families.
“The houses I’ve been to haven’t been very responsive,” the employee said. “But I’ve been having very cool conversations with neighbors.”
Many families aren’t home or don’t answer the door, and the employee doesn’t blame them. They could be mistrustful of authorities or people they don’t know or worry about their safety.
Four people involved in the “come-back-to-the-district” effort said they were skeptical it would help the school system reach its projections.
“It’s going to yield something, but it’s not going to yield enough to cover up the fact that we’re several thousand away from meeting our projection of 116,000,” the employee said.
In the past, principal Shauneille Taylor had no way of knowing when one of the children at Edward Gideon Elementary School had witnessed a shooting, or an incidence of domestic violence, or seen a parent arrested.
The child might walk into the North Philadelphia school the next day and act aggressively, or appear withdrawn, or shut down, and adults would wonder why — sometimes, they might even assign disciplinary consequences for acting out.
That changed with an initiative piloted at Gideon and 14 other city schools, now going districtwide, Philadelphia Police Commissioner Kevin Bethel and Superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr. announced Monday.
The “Handle With Care” program allows officers to make referrals to schools attended by child witnesses to crimes. Schools are then alerted that one of their children may need extra attention, with staff trained in trauma-informed practices and poised to offer more support.
“Having that heads up has made a profound difference for our school,” Taylor said at a news conference in a Gideon hallway Monday.
The program is the brainchild of Bethel, a former district safety chief and longtime city officer, who dreamed for years about figuring out a way to better care for kids who witnessed traumatic events.
In 2024, the district used a $1 million federal grant to launch a “Handle With Care” pilot in 15 schools in North Philadelphia. That money paid for training and a dedicated staffer.
A $200,000 state grant will fund the staffer’s work going forward, officials said.
Officials “didn’t want to assume that everyone understands trauma, how to identify the warning signs, and how to provide that support,” Bethel said. “So we had the opportunity to provide training to Philadelphia police officers and school-based staff, not only on how to understand trauma, but on how to provide meaningful support. Through this pilot, we were able to provide that support to more than 70 students who may otherwise have walked into school carrying the weight of what they experienced without anyone knowing that they just needed a little extra care.”
It’s certainly a shift from years ago, Bethel said, when “the word trauma wasn’t really part of our vocabulary in policing or frankly, much of the conversations around children and their experiences.”
“But we understand today more than we do ever what young people experience and how those experiences affect their behavior, their ability to learn, their relationships, and their development. Our young people are exposed to significant levels of trauma,” he said.
When children witness traumatic events, officers have the ability to trigger Handle With Care alerts. A point person at the child’s school will then be alerted — not with the details of the incident, just that this student needs extra support because of an event.
It “gives the school an opportunity to intervene … rather than waiting until a child’s trauma manifests its way into a disciplinary action or academic, emotional problems,” Bethel said. “Early recognition creates an opportunity for early intervention.”
Rene Garner cried even before the doors swung open Sunday to admit visitors to the last-ever day of operation for the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University.
“I feel so sad,” said Garner, a retired educator who brought classes to the museum for years and credits her son’s love of science to summers spent learning at the academy’s summer camp. “This was such a great big part of our lives.”
Garner, a West Philadelphia resident, came with her son, Addison Garner, and her granddaughter, Sage Young, 7, to see the academy one last time.
Garner was far from alone.
About 8,000 fans streamed through the museum on Saturday, with some flying in from across the country to squeeze in one last visit, a museum leader said.
Rene Garner (in red) is among the first in line before the doors opened Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026, outside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open. She came with her son, Addison Garner (right), and her granddaughter, Sage Young, 7.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerA display of the Hadrosaurus foulkii fossils – the world’s first relatively complete set of dinosaur bones ever discovered. The bones, found in 1838 in New Jersey, were also the first mounted dinosaur skeleton ever to go on public display, at the Academy in 1868.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerScience educator Buddy Muhler shows visitors the eyeball of a cow, during his talk at the Academy.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerDinosaur Hall with more than 30 species, headlined by a 42-foot, 7.5-ton T. rex, plus fossils, dinosaur eggs, and footprints. Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerArtist Thomas LaPine sketches the T-rex.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerSean White holds Camon, 2, while his wife Michelle White records them on the video screen “interacting” with a T-Rex inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University Sunday, Sept. 27 on the last day that the museum is scheduled to be open. They were in another room room with a “green screen” that the computer combined into a single scene. Daughter Whenonah, 3, was also with the family from Abington. They had never been to the museum before and Michelle said “we heard it was closing, so we just had to come before it’s too late.”Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerScience educator Jake Cook lets visitors feel the skin of a pangolin — a scaly anteater.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerThere are 37 dioramas at the Academy, the majority of which were created between the 1930s and 1960s. Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerSusan Parker poses by the teeth of a T-rex as she and husband John Parker visit with their two grown children, their spouses and grandchildren. They are long-time visitors and supporters, Susan noting, “the kids were even here for sleepovers.”Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerOne of the North American dioramas at the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University just before the museum closed to the public at 5 p.m. on Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerVisitors crowd past the exhibits inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026 on the last day that the museum is scheduled to be open.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerA dinosaur-costumed visitor passes behind the T-rex in Dinosaur Hall at the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026 on the last day the museum is open to the public.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerVisitors leave notes inside the Academy.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerPete Innes pauses near one of the North American dioramas just before the museum closed to the public, He came to see his son, Tim Innes, who works as a science educator, interacting with visitors.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerVisitors leave the the museum at closing time at 5.p.m. Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerVisitors inside the Academy watch protesters from Save The Academy hold a vigil outside the museum just before its closing.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerMuseum staff pause in Dinosaur Hall after it closed the doors to the public.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerJerry Atwood vacuums after the last visitors have left.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerMembers of the museum staff pose for a photo in the lobby after the closing.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerGlenn McElroy carries dinosaur balloons as he marches behind his wife Beth and daughter Parker, 15, to protest at City Hall after attending a vigil following the closing.Tom Gralish / Staff PhotographerCity Councilmember Jeffery Young Jr. speaks to protesters outside City Hall Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026 after the group marched there following a vigil at the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University after it closed to the public at 5 p.m.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
On Sunday, a steady stream of visitors inside the museum took photos, touched the hard but smooth skin of a pangolin — a scaly anteater — being circulated by museum educators, and guided toddlers in dinosaur costumes through exhibits.
“I can’t believe this,” one woman cried, peering over a second-floor balcony at a packed room full of visitors examining dinosaur bones.
Drexel and the academy announced this month the museum was closing amid declining attendance and economic pressures. The academy has been open to the public since 1828, and is considered the birthplace of American paleontology.
Drexel has not specifically said it declined the offer, but a spokesperson said that the university doesn’t have a viable proposal for a “permanent, sustainable path forward for the academy’s museum.”
Sean White holds Camon, 2, while his wife, Michelle White, records them on the video screen “interacting” with a T. Rex inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on Sunday, Sept. 27, the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open. They were in another room room with a “green screen” that the computer combined into a single scene. Daughter Whenonah, 3, was also with the family from Abington. They had never been to the museum before and Michelle said, “We heard it was closing, so we just had to come before it’s too late.”Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
The foundation’s offer was on the minds of many on Sunday. Canvassers from a group attempting to save the academy chatted up visitors as they walked into the museum. They relayed their message from a billboard truck parked outside.
“200 years of natural history can’t end on our watch,” the billboard said.
Erin Kelly agreed.
“My 11-year-old grew up coming here,” said Kelly, who lives in Kensington and brought her son, Phoenix Johnson, to the museum for one more lesson Sunday. “I’ve taught him about our city, and country, and cultural treasures just by coming here.”
Visitors crowd past the exhibits inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026, the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
In some ways, it felt like an ordinary Sunday at the museum — kids digging for fossils in the sand, parents pushing strollers, people fake-climbing into dinosaur mouths for photos.
But there were definite signs of the end: the crowds, the activists handing out flyers, the picked-over gift shop, where signs told patrons that there was no stock left. A smiling, teal, stuffed dino purse seemed incongruous, a burst of cheer amid so much regret.
Artist Thomas LaPine traveled to Philadelphia to witness the museum’s last moments. He set up his easel, unpacked his paper and pencils and oil pastels, and sketched.
There was something magical in seeing people from all walks of life absorb the exhibits, LaPine said — watching children gain a sense of magic, a perspective on where the world has been, to perhaps think of where it’s going.
Artist Thomas LaPine sketches a T. Rex inside the main dinosaur hall in the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on Sunday, Sept. 27, the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
“It’s a pretty big tragedy to me, a big deal; that’s why I’m here,” LaPine said. “I’m paying my respects.”
LaPine said he planned to turn his sketches into a painting.
“Hopefully, it’s a little time capsule of a time when people decided to cut off this resource,” he said.
In Outside In, a hands-on exhibit designed for young children that featured animals to meet and exhibits to climb on, the walls were papered with notes on colorful paper — messages about what the museum meant to families, pleas to save it.
Visitors leave notes inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026, the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
“Stay Open!” a child wrote on a pale yellow page, with a frowny face. “Love Henry.”
“This has been a place of solace, fun and learning for me since childhood,” someone else wrote. “I was here before COVID, I was there after, and I’m here now. I hope this isn’t the last time.”
A place of ‘incalculable value’
Multiple politicians have urged Drexel to accept the William Penn Foundation’s offer.
State Sen. Nikil Saval (D., Philadelphia) said in a statement that “the museum is of incalculable value to both our region and to international scientific and cultural fields,” and said the academy must remain on Benjamin Franklin Parkway.
Visitors take selfies at a North American diorama inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University on Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026, the last day that the museum was scheduled to be open.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
City Councilmembers Nina Ahmad and Jeffery Young Jr. said in a statement that the foundation’s offer comes at a crucial time and allows officials the time “to take a breath and better understand how we got here and what we can do to keep the Academy open for hundreds of more years to come. All parties must be willing to explore every option to save this precious institution.”
Mourning a friend
The museum spent its final hours with those who loved it most: thousands of visitors, who basked in its wonders, staring starry-eyed at collections of dinosaur bones, taxidermy, and petrified bugs.
Members of the museum staff pose for a photo in the lobby of the the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University just after it closed at 5 p.m. Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
At the minutes ticked toward 5 p.m. — closing time — hundreds processed out of the old Victorian building one last time and protesters chanted in the rain, holding aloft plastic candles for a planned vigil at Philadelphia City Hall.
Suzanne Ryan, a retired teacher and grandmother who has volunteered at the academy since June, held a sign reading, “The Academy is a treasure and must be saved.”
Emotion caught in her voice as she implored each departing guest to sign a petition to save the endangered museum (which by Sunday had well over 100,000 signatures.)
She’s been livid about the closing. She became a docent because of her granddaughter’s love for the dinosaurs. And as an educator, she said: “You close museums, you close minds.”
Visitors inside the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University watch protesters from Save The Academy hold a vigil outside the museum just before it closes at 5 p.m. Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
In the steady rain Sunday evening, many protesters shouted angrily about Drexel University’s seeming coolness. They hoped and urged for a miraculous resurrection.
“We’re trying to protect this place from Drexel University,” shouted museum member Corey Miller, of South Philadelphia. “They’re trying to shut down a 200-year-old institution with 30 days’ notice. It’s a public embarrassment.”
“Don’t let Drexel off,” others chanted. “Tell Drexel to get out of the way.”
Longtime visitors Christina Stone and her daughter, Tais Millan, a student at the University of Pennsylvania, spoke through tears.
“Philly loves this museum and they can save it,” said Millan. “I don’t know why Drexel isn’t trying to save it.”
Some parents said they belatedly brought their children to the museum on the final day just so they could share their childhood experiences.
Glenn McElroy (right) carries dinosaur balloons as he marches behind his wife Beth and daughter Parker, 15, to City Hall after attending a vigil for the Academy of Natural Sciences of Drexel University after it closed at 5 p.m. Sunday, Sept. 27, 2026. The Parkers are from Huntingdon Valley, Montgomery County.Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
Others, like Mary Fetter, said the day was an especially sad one for her daughters, Maeve, 10, and Margaret, 9, who are devoted visitors.
“We’ve been going here four years,” said Maeve, holding her mother’s hand outside the shuttered museum. The museum is important to the identity of the city — and her family, Mary Fetter said as protesters began to march toward City Hall in the rain.
The little girl is taking it hard, her mother said. She and her sister loved visiting the dinosaurs, the dioramas, and the live animals in the children’s rooms.
Now it all may be gone. For good.
“It’s really special to us,” said the little girl. “It’s hard to say goodbye.”
Staff writers Peter Dobrin, Susan Snyder, and Mike Newall contributed to this article.
When Martha Glasco was growing up in North Philadelphia, she said, her opportunities were limited.
So when a teacher told Glasco — now an adult with a bright child of her own — about a new program that aimed to give promising Philadelphia kids six years of medical-school education with an eye toward careers in healthcare, Glasco was thrilled.
This month, Glasco’s daughter Madison Miller slipped a white coat over her shoulders, one of 32 Philadelphia seventh graders chosen for the initial class of Temple University’s Lang Medical Scholars Program. The 12-year-old, a student at E.W. Rhodes Elementary at 22nd and Clearfield Streets, will spend weekends and summers learning about systems of the body, completing internships, and engaging in rigorous college prep.
Seventh graders in Temple University Medical School’s Lang Scholars program prepare to get their white coats. The new program identifies promising students and gives them six years of pre-medical school education.Courtesy of Temple University
“This is a big deal,” said Glasco, who dreams of buying Madison scrubs and a stethoscope, tangible evidence of her place in Lang Scholars and the doors it could open.
“The passion around this, the mission is just — talent abounds and opportunity does not, right?” said Barbara Klock, the program director and its architect. Lang, she said, aims to change that for its students.
A long-held vision
Klock carried the idea of the Lang Scholars around for years, through a career as a Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia pediatrician and the Philadelphia School District’s chief medical officer.
Melvin Poulson IV, a student at Hope Partnership School, and his mother, Allison Agee, pose with Barbara Klock, director of the Lang Scholars program.Courtesy of Temple University
Lang and Klock kept in touch after her Swarthmore graduation, and on one chance encounter at 30th Street Station in the 1990s, Lang mentioned to Klock that he was launching something he was really excited about.
“He said, ‘I have this idea for a program, but the kids start really young.’ He was always, ‘If you’re going to do something, it’s got to be the best,’ and for him, the best would be going to medical school,” Klock said.
That program, the Lang Youth Medical Program, has been thriving in New York for decades. Klock admired it from afar, and, sometimes, up close.
“I would go on Saturdays and see the program with the dream of bringing it to Philadelphia,” she said.
Klock decided it was time to go for her own version of that program in 2024. She reached out to Mitchell Morgan, chair of Temple’s board of trustees, via e-mail.
“I said, ‘I have this program. I would love to bring it to Temple,’” Klock said. “I wanted to do this with Temple because of where Temple is located, Temple’s mission and vision, and they really do what they say they do.”
Temple University Lang Scholars white coat ceremony.Courtesy of Temple University
She expected she might hear from Morgan within three weeks. Instead, she had a response, and a connection to Lewis Katz School of Medicine dean Amy Goldberg, by the end of that day.
In short order, the program was off and running, with Temple’s backing and philanthropic support, including some funding from Lang’s private foundation.
Klock pounded the pavement in the 2025-26 school year, reaching out to every Philadelphia school she could connect with — district, charter, private — to ask: Can I come talk to your sixth graders about an idea? Thirty-five schools opened the door for Klock to make presentations.
She didn’t ask counselors to recommend kids; she feared she would get only straight-A students and student council presidents. Those were fine, but she also wanted the bright-but-bored kids, the ones who were curious about science and life but maybe had hit a few bumps along the way.
Klock hoped to bring in 20 Lang scholars for the inaugural class. Nearly 14 times that number applied, and those who made it to the interview round flat-out wowed her, Klock said. She ended up getting permission to build a class of 32 — 22 girls and 10 boys — and will grow a grade every year.
The program’s aim is not to produce a class full of doctors. It is to produce a class full of curious and confident learners grounded in an academic medical setting. If some enter the medical field, Klock would be delighted, but that is not the main objective.
“These are kids who are so eager to learn,” Klock said. “They want to be with other students who are eager to learn. They are incredibly curious. They ask, ‘why?’ and ‘what if?’ What I want to do is give them the chance to continue to ask, ‘why?’ and ‘what if?,’ no matter what.”
‘This is serious’
Glasco was tipped off about the program by a teacher friend.
Madison first expressed her desire to become a doctor at age 3. Her preschool teacher has a photo of Madison holding a sign stating her career goal.
“She wants to be in the medical field, and I used to be in the medical field, so it’s actually perfect,” said Glasco, who used to work as an EMT and a medical assistant and is now a paraprofessional in a suburban school district.
It’s not far from her North Philadelphia house to Temple’s medical school, Madison said, but walking into the Medical Education and Research Building on North Broad Street felt like a different world in some ways.
Going to the interview was “very exciting,” Madison said, “but I was also very nervous. There were a lot of windows, and I could see everyone.”
When she got the word that she was a Lang Scholar, Madison was thrilled.
“My teacher was really excited, too, because he knew I was going to be in the medical field soon — kind of in medical school, like college,” Madison said. “My friends were really excited because they knew they were going to have a medical friend.”
Madison and the other Lang Scholars received their professional white coats to kick off the program on Sept. 19. They will begin their studies Oct. 3. Klock will teach the biweekly courses on the human body, health equity, public health, and more.
Over the years, the students will take trips, work at paid internships, sit in SAT prep courses, and receive help with college applications — all for free. They will dive into the health issues facing their communities, and have access to the same labs and facilities as Temple medical students.
Glasco cannot wait to drop Madison off for her first day of class as a Lang Scholar.
“I’m going to be on her really hard about this, because this is serious,” Glasco said. “I want her to get all the knowledge she can, and maintain it, so she can go further in whatever medical field she decides to do in the future.”
Leo Stober, an eighth grader at Science Leadership Academy Middle School, is frustrated. He’s thinking about applying to selective Philadelphia School District high schools, but the process is now stymied by what officials said was a delay in the release of state test scores.
So Leo sat in front of the Philadelphia school board Thursday night to air his concerns.
Not having access to scores “is quite frankly disrespectful, not only to the students, but also to the teachers,” Leo said.
Students are anxious to hear how their 2026 PSSA performance will shape the schools open to them, and teachers need the scores “to find which students need extra help on certain assignments,” he said.
A student’s test scores determine which schools they’re eligible to apply to: Central and Masterman require scores in the 80th percentile to apply, for instance.
The Pennsylvania Department of Education sent preliminary scores to districts and schools in the spring, as it always does — one charter school official told the school board she received her early test results on June 10.
Watlington said Thursday night that scores won’t be available when the application window opens in a week and and a half, but said he realizes “that changing the timeline may require families to adjust their plans, and we absolutely appreciate their patience as we work through this.”
Scores will be available by the time the application window closes, on Nov. 24, Watlington said.
Central and Masterman are only two of the 37 schools that require scores.
Scores in the 65th percentile qualify students for Academy at Palumbo, George Washington Carver High School of Engineering and Science, Parkway Center City Middle College, and Northeast High’s International Baccalaureate and magnet programs. Other schools require scores in the 50th percentile or better.
A student board representative asked Watlington if the shift would cause the district to consider going “test optional” — allowing students to decide whether they want to submit standardized test scores, or withhold them.
“We’re not going to test optional,” Watlington said. “We will likely continue with what we’re doing.”
$600,000 for a Kensington High project fix
In other matters, the board voted unanimously to ratify — formally approve a contract that was already awarded — a $600,000 deal with a firm now charged with monitoring construction work at Kensington High.
Hunter Roberts Construction Group is providing independent oversight and monitoring of the work at Kensington, which has been plagued with problems.
The contractor “is expected to comply with applicable federal, state, and local laws and regulations, including, but not limited to, legal requirements for the proper abatement and disposal of asbestos and/or any other hazardous material,” the board resolution approving the contract said. Hunter Roberts began work on the project on Aug. 27, according to the documents.
Last year, the district was criminally charged over its past handling of asbestos at city schools. After a yearslong secret probe, the school board signed off in June 2025 on a deferred prosecution agreement that comes with strict federal scrutiny of its environmental management.
Philadelphia was the first school district in the U.S. that faced criminal charges for environmental violations.
Hunter Roberts’ contract on the Kensington project runs through 2028.
The pact gives 32BJ’s 2,000 members 9.5% raises over three years. They’ll also get $2,350 in bonuses and 25 paid days off after the birth of a child – the first time parental leave was granted to those workers.
Sa’Mya Cook is a bright, eager 10th grader at the storied Philadelphia High School for Girls, but second period is tough for everyone.
Cook is crowded into a classroom with 50 other teenagers. It’s hot, and there are not enough desks, with spillover students grabbing seats in folding chairs lining the classroom.
“It’s too much,” Cook said of her Girls’ High African American history class. “My mom offered to take me out, she said it’s a fire hazard.”
Cook and 150 of her classmates converged on Philadelphia School District headquarters Thursday to protest conditions at their school, a magnet where rising enrollment has not been met with matching resources, students and teachers said.
Girls’ High lost enrollment for several years. But, under Principal KaTiedra Argro, the school has reversed the trend. (The school had nearly 900 students in 2022-23, and nearly 600 last school year.)
As early as April, Girls’ High projected a bumper 9th-grade crop for 2026-27. But the staff allocated by the central office was inadequate, those inside the school said.
“This is not OK,” said Brooklyn Robinson, a Girls’ High 9th grader. “I am saying this because there is one teacher teaching two classrooms worth of students. We cannot hear the teacher over the amount of students that are conversating in a class. We are not fish in a barrel.”
Superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr., addressing the Girls’ High students at a Thursday evening school board meeting, said he would ensure fixes.
“We want more schools to grow their enrollment, and I was not aware of the class size imbalance, but it will get immediate attention,” Watlington said.
Students and teachers said they were not presenting new information — they had begun taking their concerns to Watlington’s team shortly after school began on Aug. 24.
“I hope this can be a teachable moment for us when the enrollment does grow,” said school board president Reginald Streater.
Nowhere for students to sit
Though the Girls’ High students secured promises of relief, they were clearly frustrated that the process had taken this long, and wary of the district’s promises.
“It’s been like this for a month,” 11th grader Jazaiah Smith said. “Nothing has changed.”
Huge classes tax students and teachers, said Smith.
“There’s not even enough room for everyone to sit — we have to sit on the floor,” she said.
Philadelphia School District Deputy Superintendent Brenda Elliott (center, holding megaphone) speaks to Girls’ High students who came to district headquarters to protest overcrowded conditions at the school.Kristen A. Graham / Staff
Prior to the board meeting, Brenda Elliott, Watlington’s deputy superintendent for academics, waded into the crowd of Girls’ High students gathered outside district headquarters to offer assurances.
After getting precise enrollment counts, the district added two teachers to Girls’, Elliott said, but has not been able to change students’ schedules to add classes because a new roster chair was unable to complete the work. Central office support should arrive Friday, Elliott said.
“The report I received was that all of the positions had been added,” Elliott said.
Students holding signs that said “53:1 since 8/24″ and ”Gazelles, Not Sardines,” a nod to the Girls’ High mascot, the gazelle, shook their heads.
“We shouldn’t have to come up here and do this to get answers,” one student shouted at Elliott. “That’s ridiculous!”
Students and teachers said there’s been shifting, inconsistent messaging from the district on how much help is forthcoming, and when it will arrive.
Nyjera Choice, a 10th grader, has Advanced Placement (AP) African American history, a class with 40 students. Under district policy, classes are supposed to be capped at 33 students.
The overcrowding “affects learning,” Choice said. “It affects how you focus. There’s students not receiving the proper attention that they need. We’re the next generation of Philadelphia leaders, and we expect better.”
Christopher Canary, a history teacher who has several oversized classes, including one with 53 students, said luckily, classroom management isn’t a problem for him, even in rooms that have nearly double the number of students they should.
“But the students are being shortchanged,” Canary said. “They have to rely on a 50th of my attention, when they deserve more.”
Canary said he is frustrated that when Girls’ delivered on the district’s challenge to enroll more students, the district failed it — and even, for a time, said it was cutting at least one AP class to fix the issue. (It has since reversed that decision.)
For nearly 180 years, Girls’ High has promised young Philadelphia women an excellent education.
“And now that our new administration has done what they thought impossible, reigniting public enthusiasm for Girls’ High and miraculously raising enrollment to levels not seen in years, the district has refused to provide us with the staff necessary to adequately serve those students,” Canary said, “effectively setting us up to fail.”
The teacher activists who organized alongside Hannah Gann want accountability on behalf of the vulnerable students who believed the Philadelphia School District teacher was someone she was not.
“We hope the district will take the necessary steps to hold Hannah accountable for the harm she caused, prevent any further harm to students, and provide meaningful support to the students and school community as they process what occurred,” the Racial Justice Organizing Committee and Philly Educators for Palestine said in a statement.
Gann, who works at the Workshop School, a project-based high school in West Philadelphia, claimed for years that she was Palestinian and Black. After direct questioning, Gann admitted she is a white, Jewish woman and the relative of Israeli settlers.
Ultimately, Gann acknowledged she is “a white woman of significant privilege and wealth.”
Gann was a key member of both organizing groups — which are made up of district teachers but unaffiliated with the district. She led teach-ins after the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas-led attacks on Israel, decrying “scholasticide” in Gaza and defending Keziah Ridgeway, a Philadelphia teacher who was disciplined by the district over her private, pro-Palestinian social media posts. (Ridgeway has since sued the district, alleging anti-Islamic bias.)
Gann’s deception has earned national attention and comparisons to Rachel Dolezal, the scholar and former NAACP official who had claimed to be Black. Racial Justice Organizing Coalition and Philly Educators for Palestine members, in the statement, said they understood why the matter is receiving attention, “but for us, it is not a spectacle. The emotional harm is real and palpable for the people who knew, trusted and worked alongside, and learned from Hannah.”
Most important, the Philadelphia activists who once claimed Gann as a friend and colleague said, the focus needs to be on her students.
Gann remains employed by the district, teaching students at a majority-Black school who viewed her as a trusted adult, someone who helped them create community and feel protected, the Philly organizers said.
“Finding out that someone who taught them about identity and belonging had been dishonest about her own identity could deeply damage their trust in her and other adults,” the committee said.
The school system has said it does not comment on personnel matters, but noted that it made support available to any Workshop student or employee who needed it.
Blackness, the groups said, “cannot be donned as a costume. Black and Palestinian identities, grief, and genocide are not identities or experiences that anyone has the right to adopt for credibility, access or belonging.”
Gann “could’ve easily been an invaluable ally to these communities without lying about who she was,” the groups said.
Gann has not commented beyond a 10-minute video posted to her Instagram account in which she admitted to the deception.
“I hid my family’s background from everyone in Philly and also hid from the people in my own family what I was doing,” she said, adding that she believed in the causes she fought for despite her deception.
Gann said she “allowed half-truths and obfuscations to grow into outright lies.”
