Gainous, Phil

"No way, honey; he's booked solid for two weeks," insists Cherrie Avery, secretary of Principal Phillip Gainous, shaking her head at the back-to-back appointments covering her computer screen. He's got staff members to greet and students to prevent from disrupting his school, says Avery, finally penciling in a tentative interview slot.

Despite persistent rumors of retirement, it's clear that the 6'2" principal's 19th year at Blair is going to be as hectic as ever. Having recently secured the record for longest-tenured Blair principal, Gainous is determined to remain in charge at least for a few more years, until new programs are securely in place.

Just doing his job

Gainous has continued to support students this year, he says, referring to the inclination that has garnered him many of the awards stacked in his bottom desk drawer.

Perhaps the award that means the most to him, says Gainous, was the first-ever "Courage in Student Journalism" award, given by the Newseum. When the student-produced TV show Shades of Gray was censored by MCPS' superintendent, Gainous publicly backed his students, resulting in his receipt of the award as well as an invitation to speak at an American Association of School Administrators (AASA) conference.

Disbelief moves across Gainous' face when he describes his interactions with other principals at the conference and their inability to stand by their students. "It just amazed me how terrified these people were of their kids!" he exclaims.

His shock at the administrators' reactions reminds him of how others were shocked at his behavior earlier in his career. Gainous remembers a conversation with the superintendent when Gainous asked for increased resources to support Blair.

"‘Gainous,' he said to me. 'You're not looking at the big picture,'" Gainous recalls. "But that's not my job, see? That's his job. All I care about is my kids; they're all I'm fighting for, and that's the way it should be."
Carlos Hamlin, principal of Parkland High School, says that's the lesson Gainous teaches to everyone around him. Says Hamlin, "I don't know anyone who would do as much for his students as Gainous would."
Hamlin met Gainous in 1967, during tryouts for the Coolidge High School football team, which Gainous then coached. "I never thought we'd wind up both principals, just across the way from each other," he says.

Dr. Gainous, M.D.?

Truth be told, says Gainous, neither did he. It was around a lab-coat-wearing, scalpel-wielding future that Gainous first spun his dreams. He didn't consider a non-medical career until his high-school teachers showed him how transformative educators can be.

A vow Gainous made to himself as a student, however, became most influential in determining the path of his life. Growing up, Gainous was completely ignorant of his family finances.

But one evening, Gainous stumbled upon a basket a church gave to the family. "I just remember thinking, ‘God, that means we're poor! Only poor people get those,'" he says, wincing.

The right motivation

Buoyed by his determination to make things easier on his mother, who was already overwhelmed by the family's financial circumstances, Gainous entered high school with the tenacity he used to reserve only for sports.

At this point, being a bad student was not an option. Even without a formal education, Gainous' father knew how to keep his son on the straight and narrow.

"I remember this one time," says Gainous, picking up a flyer to demonstrate. "He came down into our basement, and he was holding my report card up, just like this." Gainous leans back. "‘Son,' says my dad, ‘I don't know what this means, but your momma said it ain't right. The next one better be.'"

That was all Gainous' father needed to say. Between that rhetoric and the knowledge that he'd need good grades need to impress a group of girls, Gainous had all the motivation he needed to succeed. Combined with his high school football prowess, Gainous' grades and assiduousness yielded a full scholarship to Morgan State University.

Today, after stints as a coach, biology teacher and assistant principal, Gainous' degree from Morgan State has led him to become the leader of the largest, most diverse school in Maryland. As Avery screens entrants to his office, Gainous is wistfully glancing around his room. "See all the boating pictures?" he asks. "That's where I want to retire––just boat and fish all day, maybe volunteer at local schools."

But then he remembers that he has the greatest job in the entire world, that he's in exactly the right place. "Bottom line is this: Everyone's got a boss," he says, swiveling around to indicate the set of shelves sagging under the weight of binders full of directives from county superiors. "But right now, I've got enough power to take risks, to do the best I can for my students, and I can still make them my number-one priority. "