Time bomb in the classroom
- By Marny Lombard and Chester Allen
- The Spokesman-Review and The Olympian
Somewhere in a Washington classroom is a child raised on violence, isolated
from other kids, overlooked by educators and forgotten by lawmakers. This
is the student who terrifies teachers.
National statistics show schools are the safest place in children's lives,
but those figures also ignore the kid in the shadows.
In Washington, there's no way to know how safe schools are. School officials
don't track statewide numbers on violence. Counselors are overloaded. Schools
struggle with dangerous students - some of whom who can't be expelled under
federal law - angry parents and other intruders.
The state spends so little for safety programs, many school districts
fall back on local levy dollars to pay security officers to patrol their
high schools.
Educators found more than 2,000 weapons stashed by students in lockers,
backpacks and pockets in the 1996-97 school year, according to the state's
latest figures.
Nearly three years after Barry Loukaitis killed two students and a teacher
in Moses Lake, Gov. Gary Locke gathered a panel of citizens for statewide
talks about school safety. He was prompted by a bloody year in the nation's
schools: Mississippi, Arkansas and Oregon staggered from school-ground killings
in 1998. Yet Locke all but ignored the issue in his ambitious proposal for
school funding this legislative session.
There is no consensus on the depth of the problem. But for every educator
who adopts an optimistic attitude, another worries the next shooting will
be in their schoolyard.
"I'd like to think we could head off any violence," said Annette
Barca, a 31-year-old teacher in Everett. "But I'm a math teacher, and
I know enough about statistics and probability to know that we can't get
to all the kids."
Resources shrinking, not growing
Washington has no statewide violence-prevention plan and does not collect
overall statistics on school violence. Superintendent Terry Bergeson has
no idea how many children were threatened or in fights during the past year.
That means no one in the state Office of Superintendent of Public Instruction
- or anywhere else - has a clear picture of school violence statewide.
The state does track how many guns, knives and other weapons were seized
in schools each year, said Denise Fitch, director of the state-run Safe
and Drug-Free School program.
So, why aren't the number of fights and threats tracked in the same way?
"Just collecting data that is sent in is not a high priority,"
Bergeson said. "Our priority is getting schools the tools they need
to keep kids safe."
How can educators know whether anti-violence programs are working if
they don't track violence?
"We do need a baseline," Bergeson acknowledged. "But there
is not a statewide program on school violence - we've never had the money
for it."
Bergeson said she wants to create a foundation for a statewide school
violence prevention program this year. She is asking the Legislature for
$1.9 million to create a Center for Safe Schools.
Center experts would collect information and help districts use proven
anti-violence programs, Bergeson said.
The proposal didn't show up in Locke's budget. Neither did a Bergeson
request of $2 million for school conflict-resolution training.
Locke is asking the Legislature to add almost $2 million to the state's
alternative schools program, but there just isn't enough money in the budget
for the safe schools center, said Keith Love, Locke's spokesman.
Bergeson has Locke's blessing to lobby legislators for the safe schools
center, Love added.
"The Legislature might want to do it," he said. "We are
concerned about school safety, but we didn't have the money. It was a hard
choice."
The state spent about $4 billion on K-12 education during the 1997-'98
school year. Locke's new 1999-2001 budget would increase education spending
by $500 million. Of that $500 million, the alternative schools budget jump
of $1.9 million is the only safety-related program increase.
This means less than 1 percent of Locke's education budget increase will
go to school safety programs.
Locke's budget also calls for keeping more than $500 million in surplus
funds.
SPI does have these safety-related programs in place:
-- The annual $5 million federal program called Safe and Drug-Free Schools.
It supports anti-drug programs and trains teachers to handle hard-core students.
-- State security grants of $5.9 million a year to 40 school districts
for 1997-98 and 1998-99. These are competitive grants, however, so a program
started one year may lose funding the next.
-- A $9.8 million annual intervention program for students with drug
and alcohol problems.
School districts are pleading for more security officers and more counselors.
Yet most existing state education programs that could reduce school violence
face cutbacks in Locke's proposed budget, including:
-- The state's Readiness to Learn program, which is slated to drop to
$3.6 million from the current $7.2 million.
- State school security grants, which would drop from $5.9 million to
$4.8 million.
-- The state substance abuse intervention program, which would be cut
from $9.8 million to $7.7 million.
The governor said school districts can tap into money that his budget
designated to reduce class sizes. Locke proposed matching $40 million with
federal money to hire 1,000 new teachers.
"If security officers or counselors are an issue, schools can move
those dollars into those areas," Locke said. "If violence is not
a concern, they can spend those dollars on teachers or teacher assistants."
Guns, knives and more
Controlling violence costs schools millions of dollars and takes away
untold hours from the fundamental business of schools: teaching.
School officials in Bremerton estimated they would pay $80,000 for substitute
teachers so all regular teachers could go to a day of anti-violence training
last week.
In December, about 25 teachers from Eastern Washington took time out
of their classrooms for a training session on handling hard-core students.
The class included advice on how to handle a student with a gun.
"In many classrooms, the only thing solid enough to stop a medium-caliber
bullet is a steel filing cabinet filled with students' papers," said
William Bender of Teacher's Workshop, in a teleconference aired at Educational
Service District 101 in Spokane.
The conference room grew silent as Ron Faust, another speaker, advised
teachers to turn slightly away from a gunman.
"To position myself for safety, I put these big bones in my body
so they are protecting my vital organs," he said.
During the 1996-97 school year, officials seized 111 handguns, 32 rifles
or shotguns and 1,411 knives from students at Washington's public schools.
Also, 748 other weapons - such as martial arts stars, tear gas canisters
and other dangerous objects - were taken from kids at school.
In 1993-94 - the first year state law required school districts to report
weapons seizures - 488 firearms, 1,604 knives and 926 other weapons were
found in Washington's schools.
Most of the decrease in weapons took place after the first year such
information was collected. Since then, overall weapons incidents show a
slight increase.
Not every gun is found in time.
Seattle teacher Karen Tanberg was shot by a former student with a pellet
gun in October 1991. Tanberg was leaving her classroom after school when
the youth stepped in and shot her three times in the wrist and stomach.
Tanberg, a special education teacher, flunked the boy in world history
the previous term, and the student was kicked off the football team. He
was convicted of third-degree assault. He came back to school after three
months in juvenile custody.
"I almost had him as a student again, which was just unbelievable,"
she said.
While most kids are well behaved, most teachers know students who utter
veiled threats. Fear is part of teaching, Tanberg said.
"I know kids like that in my classroom right now," she said.
"I go back every day because teachers (know) that if they are going
to stay in teaching, they have to accept this."
The kid in the shadows
In Seattle schools, one top safety issue is spotting the student who
is prone to violence.
Seattle schools get nationwide inquiries on its new "lethality assessment,"
said safety coordinator Peggy McEvoy. Still under development, this tool
is designed to assess a student's combined risk of homicide and suicide.
"When do we want the mental health team, and when do we want the
police?" McEvoy said. "Those are the issues we're dealing with."
Sometimes, that hard-to-spot, violence-prone student is characterized
as a loner.
"They really are shadow kids, who don't have enough connections
with other kids or with responsible adults," said Bill Womack, a professor
of child psychiatry at the University of Washington.
Intruders on campus are another major safety issue. Some come to sell
drugs, others to pick fights. Increasingly, the intruders are angry parents.
In Bremerton, an on-campus police officer handcuffed a mother who lost
control after her child was suspended, said Carol Whitehead, Bremerton schools
superintendent.
Last year in Seattle schools, at least seven major security incidents
involved potentially violent family members or neighbors, said Larry Farrar,
security director for Seattle schools.
Schools increasingly are frustrated with the regulations that affect
special education or otherwise handicapped students. Such students can be
suspended no more than 10 days in a school year, unless the school has an
alternative setting for the student for 45 days.
Practically speaking, that means a student who qualifies for special
education in just one subject could carry a weapon to school and be back
in class in just a few weeks. Mainstream students would be expelled for
a year.
"You're just as dead with a special education kid as you are with
a regular education kid," goes the saying among some teachers.
Counselors to the rescue?
In a kinder world, school counselors would be able to help all of today's
troubled children. But there is no state requirement for elementary counselors.
Statewide, it's not unusual for one counselor to be responsible for 700
schoolchildren.
In one extreme case, an elementary counselor in Grandview is responsible
for 1,435 children.
"We want one at the elementary desperately, but it's the money,"
said Richard Johnson, superintendent of Okanogan schools. "The state
won't fund it. They don't seem to understand how important it is."
"Counselors - they're as needed as pencils," said Doug Luiten,
principal of Peninsula Elementary School in Moses Lake and father of a Moses
Lake student who witnessed the shootings.
Kara Twining, a counselor at East Valley Middle School near Spokane,
said many traumatized and angry kids could cause the next tragedy.
"If someone were to call me today and say, 'Make a list of your
kids who you think could potentially do this' - the list would be long,"
Twining said. "There have been days where we've sent kids out of here
and I've told the secretary, 'If that kid comes back in the front doors,
lock the office doors and call the police.' "
In Yakima, two failed levy elections last year gave counselor Jack McKeller
and his colleagues responsibility for 970 kids each.
Programs are slipping away, now that he splits his time between Garfield
Elementary School and Davis High School. He also has made fewer referrals
to Child Protective Services.
"I'm not here to see it, to see the bruises," he said.
The Washington State PTA has made state funding for a counselor in every
elementary school one of its legislative priorities this year. But even
the PTA's lobbyist doesn't sound optimistic.
"I'm thinking that there's a lot of stiff competition this session,"
said Barbara Casey, who handles government relations for the state PTA.
"But if not this year, why not next year? We'll take the long-term
view."
Bloody-pulp syndrome
If the student with the gun is the worst fear, looming under the surface
is the lesser violence. Two-thirds of the districts interviewed said they
believe their numbers of fights, bullying and harassment have increased
or remained steady in the last decade.
In Vancouver, Wash., aggressive behavior is up.
"We see more hard-core kinds of behavior," said David Halstead,
an administrator for Vancouver schools. "It used to be a gentlemanly
fight. Nowadays, you kick 'em when they're down."
He speaks for many educators across the state. Even some districts showing
an overall decrease in violence say the intensity of violent incidents is
higher today than 10 years ago.
In Prosser, school superintendent Ray Tolcacher won't readmit students
who were kicked out for making a threat until they've taken an anger management
course and obtained a letter from a certified professional saying the student
poses no harm.
Some schools report a decrease in fighting. They attribute it to peer
mediation or other safety measures. The smallest districts in the state
say their size gives them an edge. Some aren't sure how to explain their
good news.
"We're intrigued by the reduction of violence we've seen,"
said Ray Reynolds, director of secondary schools in Pasco.
Educators point out that violence in the schools reflects violence in
the community.
"Whatever happens in your city, happens in your schools," said
Spokane Superintendent Gary Livingston.
A few generations ago, schools were a sacred space. That's gone. Now,
no matter how much educators plan, they cannot lay their fears to rest.
"One of the lessons learned from the shootings of 1998 is you cannot
create a school setting that is absolutely foolproof - or should we say
bulletproof - to violence," said Ronald Stephens of the National School
Safety Center.
He said the ultimate solution is much more simple than a metal detector
or camera.
"Despite all the high-tech strategies," Stephens said, "the
single most effective strategy for keeping school safe is a responsible
adult. Particularly an adult who knows the child." |