No alternative
When troubled students wreak havoc in the schools, kicking them out is just a
temporary solution. If they don't get help, their classmates can suffer.
Cityscape by Sarah McNaught
For kids like Billy Niedzwiecki, who has been pushing the puck since childhood,
making the varsity hockey team should have been a cherished moment. But
Niedzwiecki's biggest memory will be that he couldn't play.
On December 22, the Southie High student was attacked in a school bathroom by
four classmates who stabbed him five times and stole a gold chain left to him
by his late grandfather. Niedzwiecki underwent emergency surgery at Boston
Medical Center; his injuries weren't life-threatening, but they'll keep him off
the ice.
What makes the incident especially disturbing is that two of the alleged
attackers have a history of causing trouble. Just a month before the attack,
one of the suspects was released from a Department of Youth Services (DYS)
correctional facility, where he'd served seven and a half months after being
convicted in an armed robbery at Dorchester High on Septem-ber 25, 1997.
Another suspect had been transferred to Southie High from Charlestown for
disciplinary reasons.
During the 1996-'97 school year, the most recent for which figures are
available, 1500 students were removed from Massachusetts public schools
in connection with incidents involving assaults, drug deals, or weapons.
Suspending or expelling such youths makes the schools safer, but in too many
cases, the offenders have nowhere else to go. Instead of receiving the type of
alternative education or counseling that could help them change their behavior,
they are left unsupervised to wander the streets, often getting into more
trouble. When they return to school they are behind in their education and, as
in the South Boston case, may continue to threaten their fellow students.
According to the Department of Education's 1996-'97 annual report, the number
of students expelled or suspended from the state's public schools has
increased 52 percent since the 92-'93 school year (the first year the
Department of Education began keeping such records). A little more than a third
of students removed from classrooms did not receive alternative education.
State attorney general Tom Reilly predicts that the problem will only get
worse as the school population increases over the next decade. In the past,
what amounts to token attempts to counsel and educate students with
disciplinary problems have been only marginally successful. In the wake of the
South Boston stabbing, the school department, DYS, the AG's Office, and youth
groups are again working to put together a solution. But their efforts may not
be enough.
One problem with the existing system is the treatment of kids who've been in
trouble with the law. Juveniles convicted of a crime and ordered to DYS
detention are routinely released back into the mainstream school system without
any transitional period in an alternative educational environment, complains
Eliot Feldman, executive director of Boston's alternative-education programs.
If violent kids aren't counseled one on one, he says, everyone suffers.
Young offenders don't learn from their crimes, and their classmates may be
endangered.
"After kids serve time at a DYS center, they are sent back to school, where
they boast that DYS isn't a big thing," says Billy Stuart, a Dorchester
District Court probation officer who's worked with juveniles for the past 20
years. "Just because the kid's been locked down doesn't mean he has corrected
his habits. The current system has no bite and no rehabilitation set up for
these kids."
To make matters worse, school officials are often in the dark about their
students' histories. Administrators at Dorchester and Charlestown high schools
have dealt with highly publicized disciplinary cases during the past few years.
All say they were shocked to find out that some of their students had criminal
records or histories of discipline problems.
That was the case with Walter Rack, a 17-year-old Dorchester High student
convicted of raping a 15-year-old classmate in December 1997. At the time of
the attack, Rack was out on bail from Dorchester court on a pending assault and
battery charge, but the school was unaware of his history. That same year, Rack
had been transferred to Dorchester from St. Sebastian's school, in
Needham, for disciplinary reasons.
Others say undetected criminal records are just part of the problem. In
noncriminal cases, troublemakers are merely transferred from school to school
in what critics see as an attempt to avoid rather than fix the students'
problems. Last year, according to the Department of Education, 200 students
were transferred for safety or disciplinary reasons. Often, as in the case of
the transfer student who attacked Niedzwiecki, officials at the new school are
unaware that the student has caused trouble in the past. Boston schools
superintendent Thomas Payzant says that schools are notified about disciplinary
transfers, but many school officials say they aren't receiving the information.
Teachers can get information from a program called Community Based Justice,
which provides lists of teens in trouble for truancy, drugs, or threatening
behavior. Yet new students aren't put on the lists unless they are immediately
identified as troubled, and transfer students are considered new students.
Charlestown High School headmaster Michael Fung says that though the safety of
students comes second only to their education, schools can't ensure safety when
they don't know their students' histories. "We take in about 10 to 15 transfer
students a year," says Fung. "Sometimes students come to us with complaints
about threats or fights, and we handle it a certain way because we don't know
that the student making the threats may have a history of disciplinary
problems."
Fung adds that students sent to his school as disciplinary transfers are given
a second chance. "We try to ensure that they have the chance at a new school to
start over," explains Fung, "but it is hard for young people to put their best
foot forward if they are just being shuffled around without any
intervention."
Some schools, in particular, get more than their share of troubled teens,
leaving them with a dual challenge: to protect the safety of the general
student population while providing the at-risk youths with the tools they need
to rejoin the mainstream. "We have surveillance cameras inside and outside the
building as well as school police who patrol the school all day until
4 p.m.," says Dorchester High assistant headmaster Karen Carlin, who has
been at the school since 1980. "What we don't have is the means to provide
at-risk students with the one-on-one attention and the counseling they need in
order to return to school. We're a high school with close to 1000 kids, so we
simply can't accommodate those students whose success depends just as much on
personal guidance as on education."
In March of last year, Boston mayor Thomas Menino demanded that DYS stop
sending troubled teens to Dorchester High, and that other schools stop
transferring their disruptive students there. At the time, 15 DYS students
attended the school.
But the resulting reform effort was nothing more than a Band-Aid. Instead of
being sent to Dorchester High, the students were sent elsewhere, with no
attempt to warn teachers or administrators at their new schools. One Brighton
High student was suspended seven times before he was transferred to Charlestown
High this past December. Even though it was labeled a "disciplinary transfer,"
Charlestown officials say they didn't know the specifics of the student's
history. Shortly after he arrived at Charlestown, the student was suspended for
triggering a false fire alarm. After he returned from his suspension, he was
expelled for possessing a gun.
But in many cases, expelled students are allowed to return to the system the
following year. The youth could easily enter a new school without the teachers'
knowing his history, explains Boston alternative-ed director Feldman.
Alternative-education advocates say there is a way to prevent repeat offenders
from disrupting classrooms while providing them with the help they need to
re-engage with the regular school setting -- and both Boston and Springfield
have such programs in place.
In Springfield's 25,000-student public-school system, problem students are
immediately removed from the classroom. According to Dennis Vogel, director of
Springfield's alternative-ed program, about one-fourth of such students are
routed to some kind of alternative-education program after an initial
assessment.
"We currently offer four programs, one of which is for students convicted of
felonies," explains Vogel, who admits that because of lack of space and
funding, not all at-risk students receive alternative education. "We try to
deal with the current problem by working with DYS, the police, and the courts
to identify problem students and supply them with counseling before they get in
trouble."
In Boston, there are 10 off-site programs with 900 seats for students with
disciplinary problems. Unlike the standard Boston classroom, where 30 students
are assigned to each teacher, these alternative settings have a student-teacher
ratio of 15 to 1. Feldman says that in addition to the regular curriculum, the
facilities offer one-on-one counseling and special programs such as
young-fatherhood classes, employment training, anger-management sessions, and
substance-abuse rehabilitation.
But according to Citizens for Juvenile Justice, the state's only organization
that works on dropout/delinquency-prevention programs, other states --
including Connecticut, Florida, Kentucky, Illinois, Virginia, and Louisiana --
are significantly ahead of Massachusetts in providing at-risk youth with
alternative education. Massachusetts provides a budget of only $2 million,
whereas the cost of educating all the students removed from the public schools
would be $6 million, according to Feldman.
"It's not that we don't know what to do with these kids, it's that we don't
have enough resources to work with every one of them," explains Feldman. "And
there is no law mandating alternative education at this time." Of the 1498
students expelled or suspended in '96-'97, 538 did not receive alternative
education, according to the Department of Education's annual report. The report
also found that even among special-education students, who are required to
receive alternative education if they are removed from class for disciplinary
reasons, 10 percent got no such attention.
Lou Gitelman, who has run a Boston alternative-education facility called
University High School for seven years, says he has seen many students enter
the doors with no hope and leave with a bright future.
"These are good kids who need a little direction, and putting them on the
street is not going to help," says Gitelman, who has worked in the school
system for 22 years.
Trucia Cassagnol is one of those kids. Suffering from problems at home, she
stopped showing up for classes at Charlestown High School and started to get in
trouble. Before long, she was failing all her classes.
But instead of letting her slip through the cracks, officials at Charlestown
contacted Gitelman and asked if Cassagnol could attend University High School.
Now, two years later, Cassagnol is excelling in her studies, even taking two
college courses at Bunker Hill Community College. She has also completed a
100-hour internship at Brigham and Women's Hospital.
"I consider my teachers my friends," Cassagnol says. "They work with us one on
one and they talk to us about everything. I've had family problems, boyfriend
problems, and conflicts at work that my teachers here have helped me through. I
wouldn't have gotten that attention at a regular high school."
Cassagnol is glad she was guided in the right direction before her situation
got any worse. "Kids with problems need a place like this to go," she says.
"Many of us act out for attention, not because we are bad kids. They know that
here, and they give us a second chance. I'd be on the street if it wasn't for
University High."
Government and law-enforcement officials have tried before to address the
problem of disruptive and violent students. But alternative education has never
been required for all youths removed from the public schools, and existing
alternative-education programs have not been adequately funded.
Now, because of the recent stabbing at South Boston High School, the
issue of alternative education has again received heightened attention. In the
wake of the Niedzwiecki attack, Citizens for Juvenile Justice has pushed
for legislation demanding alternative-education facilities in every school
district in Massachusetts. The bill, sponsored by House majority whip Barbara
Gardner (D-Holliston), will be heard by the legislature's education committee
this spring, and would establish separate educational programs for violent and
troubled youth statewide.
"The bill will establish a grant program for cities and towns to provide
alternative education for troubled kids," explains Jack Gately, executive
director of the organization. "The overall cost would be modest compared to the
cost of incarceration that will accumulate if these kids are not dealt with
properly now."
In another hopeful development, DYS expects to open a new
transitional-education facility in Dorchester this month that would provide
academic help and counseling to between 10 and 15 kids released from DYS
custody, with the aim of returning them to regular public schools within three
months. According to DYS, 600 Boston children are committed to the system each
year. Of those, 300 are incarcerated and the rest continue to attend school. An
additional 100 juveniles are released from DYS and returned to the mainstream
school system annually.
And, in a "Children's Protection Project" announced last month, Attorney
General Reilly said he plans to expand the Community Based Justice program,
which he established in 1991 when he was Middlesex DA. The program's goal is to
improve the communication between schools and law-enforcement officials so that
administrators are prepared to identify at-risk youth and help integrate them
back into the classroom and the community.
But as the state announces programs to build new schools, develop additional
after-school activities, and increase the number of
early-childhood-education centers, at-risk students currently in the system
are falling through the cracks.
"I'm not a bad kid, I don't think," says 17-year-old Eddie Cardoni as he
stands in front of a corner store on Monument Street in Charlestown. It's a
little after noon and the tall, wiry youth stands alone. All his friends are in
class, but Cardoni has been suspended for bringing a knife to school. It will
be a month before he's allowed back, and he hasn't been offered a place in an
alternative facility.
"I wasn't going to use it," he says of the weapon. "It was just a really cool
hunting knife and I wanted to show my friends." Even as the teen offers up this
explanation, a smirk appears on his face, as if he knows the excuse is
transparent. "This sucks, though," he says. "I got nothing to do. I'd rather be
in school."
Sarah McNaught can be reached at smcnaught[a]phx.com.