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St. Martin de Porres defies the chronic failure of inner-city education

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But the most avant-garde aspect of the school is its curriculum. Clark and company have erased and redrawn every age-old convention that goes unquestioned in most schools. Classes are based on "backwards design," where teachers are taught to structure curriculum not from the beginning of a semester, but from the targeted end — to ensure that students are ready by the end of the year.

The curriculum also varies for each student. Though some kids enroll at St. Martin as many as four grades behind, custom teaching helps them get caught up by the end of four years.

Even homework, forever considered the staple of a serious education, is diminished. "We want to respect the students and that some of them have to work a second job to put a family's food on the table," says biology teacher Marty Coggin. "And in general, there are a lot of studies that are questioning the validity of homework at all."

If there is one unquestioned principle, it's that everything they do must be research-supported. "That's something I hear all the time," says English teacher Faith Hurley. "If I want to do something different, they say, 'Look it up; find me some kind of research.'"

The intensive instruction naturally takes time. Coggin estimates that teachers work 50-70 hours a week. To ensure they stay motivated, Clark based pay — ranging from $35,000 to $60,000 — on student performance.

He understands the pitfalls of compensating them like car salesmen. When he worked at Illinois' Loyola Academy, the school experimented with merit pay. Teachers naturally did their best to appear committed. "It was a disaster," he says. "A teacher would go to a game and tap an administrator on the shoulder to say, 'I'm at the game.'"

But St. Martin teachers are handpicked for their ambition — which is only reinforced by the performance-based pay. "It has no effect on teaching," says Coggin. "Because of the hiring process, every teacher in this school is essentially a perfectionist. If they're not, then they quickly figure out that they don't want to be here."

Students, however, see more of an upside. "Sometimes I see them put a little extra into their classes," says Capeles. "It's like, 'We really need this money.'"

But the school is forced to accept the status quo in one aspect: standardized testing. It's the bane of teachers everywhere, but it plays a major role in how St. Martin teachers are paid.

"As faulty as it is," says Foley, "standardized testing is the one thing that we can consistently assess our students with and use to compare our schools."

For his part, Clark believes standardized testing is overly villainized. "The typical argument is that you're teaching the test, not the student," he says. "But the test is based on what you need to know to succeed in that field."

Either way, it's hard to argue against the Cristo Rey Network's success. According to Foley, 99 percent of its seniors have gone on to college.

Hurley has the task of teaching a sophomore English class after the 22-minute lunch break, and the students seem groggy, unenthused.

But the difference between this class and what you might find in the Cleveland schools is that none of these kids withdraw or give up. They don't act out, and they fall silent when it's time to dig into a worksheet. The assignment is designed by Hurley to engage them, combining drawing, writing, public speaking, and old-fashioned multiple-choice. This is the unglamorous grind that makes St. Martin work.

But to Clark, the ultimate test will come when these students age, and their children never come through St. Martin's doors because they don't meet the low-income requirement.

"The last thing we want," he says, "is a legacy."

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