Why Do Students Quit? : Unlocking the Riddle of Dropouts

Audie Chatman is the question for which a nation is trying to find an answer.

In government offices, in corporate board rooms, at colleges and universities, research centers and think tanks, in prisons, jails and courtrooms and in home after home, Americans are struggling to unlock the mystery of Audie, and many believe that the country’s future depends on it.

Audie does not sell crack or government secrets. He has never been arrested, has no deadly communicable disease. He is a quiet, unassuming, at times painfully shy New Orleans teen-ager wrestling with adolescence and acne like so many others.

The problem is that, at 17, Audie is still in the ninth grade. In all probability, he will never finish high school and will be one of the 1 million youngsters--nearly one of every three students--who each year leave school and face an uncertain future in a society that increasingly has no place for them.

Studies conducted by the U.S. Department of Education and others have found that these lost students will be three times more likely to be unemployed than those who finish high school, and three times more likely to need government assistance. As a group, dropouts will earn a third less than graduates and will be twice as likely to run afoul of the law and go to jail or prison.

A question that adults ask is: Why, in this new technology-driven society--where rust belt follows rust belt and once-thriving industries vanish--would Audie and hundreds of thousands of other youngsters quit before they have mastered the most fundamental educational steps?

Weak Foundation

In Audie’s world, education officials say, the answers come in a dismal array. Schools fail to teach children the basic skills during their early years. Consequently, they stumble in later grades and repeated failures put student after student so far behind that they give up on what seems a distant, unattainable goal. Early pregnancy sends many girls home with babies and eventually to the welfare rolls; the drug culture too often makes peddling crack more attractive than cracking a book, and parents--often themselves dropouts--are unable or unwilling to provide their children with the guidance and motivation it takes to succeed.

In many cases, education officials said, all of these conditions are present along with grinding poverty, which can force teen-agers as young as 14 or 15 to take on the financial and emotional burdens of helping to keep the family afloat.

In some ways, Audie, New Orleans and Louisiana are bits of a larger picture that can be seen in city after city, state after state. The dropout rate here hovers around 32%, just a few points above the national average. (California schools have a dropout rate of 31%; the Los Angeles Unified School District claims a rate of 16.3%.)

The New Orleans dropout rate was higher--42%--just five years ago, but there was less concern then because there were many jobs that required only muscle.

“The problem now is we have a greater need for graduates than we ever had before,” said Sally Hayes, director of the Business Task Force on Education, a Chamber of Commerce-sponsored organization that has been working for 11 years on the dropout problem. “It used to be if you had a strong back and strong hands and willing heart, you could make a productive life for yourself by working in the oil fields, the factory or the plant. Those kinds of jobs are shrinking (in number).”

Now, this city’s leaders are finding, as have their colleagues across the country, that they must reach the Audie Chatmans if they are to attract high-tech industries.

Falling Enrollment

Audie attends George Washington Carver High School, the school from which his mother, Bobby Chatman, was graduated 26 years ago. It is an aging structure that, along with Carver Middle School, serves the residents of two housing projects and a working-class neighborhood in the Ninth Ward. Carver once had 1,200 students, but enrollment has fallen to 700 in recent years as “magnet” schools have siphoned off the best and the brightest students.

For as long as Audie can remember, he has lived with his mother and grandmother in a small, neat, white frame house on Metropolitan Street just five blocks from Carver. A younger brother, 10, lives with them. His 19-year-old sister has moved out. His mother and father have long been divorced.

His mother is on welfare and hasn’t worked for 11 years. Her last employment, at Charity Hospital, was a one-year stint--the longest she ever held a job. She lacks skills but she also admits: “I’ve got this lazy thing. I got frustrated and started doing what I wanted to do--nothing.”

Like the vast majority of American children, Audie made it through elementary school without a hitch.

Audie: I liked elementary school. I was young and I was well known. I enjoyed my elementary school.

Question: When did you start having problems?

Audie: I started having real problems when I got to Carver Senior High.

Q: But Audie, you failed in the seventh grade (in middle school).

Audie: I was young, that didn’t bother me. I don’t know how I got kept back in the seventh grade . . . . It wasn’t hard. I don’t know what it was. That’s like five years ago. I was 12 years old. I can’t recall everything.

It is at this critical juncture that many pupils begin to approach the category of “at-risk children,” those most likely to drop out of school. According to New Orleans officials, while most youngsters drop out in the ninth grade or later, the highest rate of failure is in seventh grade, where the ability to read well and other fundamental skills become essential to continued success. Nearly two of every 10 pupils fail in that year. Audie failed the seventh grade twice.

“It’s in the seventh grade that most kids actually start dropping out of school,” said Dwight McKenna, president of the New Orleans school board. “They may not leave school until later, but they have actually quit around the seventh grade.”

Elementary Schools Hit

“The No. 1 culprit is the elementary schools,” said Carver Principal Lindsey Moore, a Carver graduate. “(Young pupils) don’t receive the foundation that will allow them to be successful as they progress through the levels.”

“Kids don’t teach themselves,” McKenna added. “It’s the responsibility of the school system. What we’re dealing with is primarily a failure of the schools, then parents, and, ultimately, the entire community.”

Audie’s elementary school report cards gave little hint of the problems he would encounter. Most of his classes were graded only pass or fail.

“I never had any problems with Audie until he got to the middle school,’ his mother said. “All through first through sixth grade I never had any problems with him. I don’t know what the problem was with him then.”

Audie’s critical year was the same year his sister, Athania, dropped out. She was 14, in the ninth grade and pregnant.

Teen Pregnancy Cited

Athania was typical of girls who leave school. Teen-age pregnancy is wreaking havoc with the nation’s ability to graduate its students, education officials say. Across the country, officials estimate that nine out of 10 girls who drop out do so because of pregnancy. Every day, according to one study, 40 teen-agers in this country give birth to their third children.

At Carver, pregnancy is so prevalent that teachers have identified 200 girls--the equivalent of more than 25% of the school’s enrollment--who are at home tending babies.

“And that’s not even counting the middle school,” said Danielle Foley, a Carver health and physical education instructor. Foley and other teachers said that these days, by the time girls come from junior high school to Carver, many already have children.

To allow teen-age mothers to come to class, Carver has won approval to have a child-care center, which is due to open in August.

Foley, like many teachers at Carver, never seems to run out of stories about girls dropping out because of pregnancy.

‘It’s Just Too Hard’

“I have a student right now; she’s on her own,” she said. “She had to drop out. Her mother put her out. She’s only 16. And she’s a nice, nice girl who could really go places if given an opportunity. She came in a couple of days ago to talk to me about it. She said it’s just too hard.

“I have another one. She has to go clear across town to drop her baby off with a sitter and then come all the way back down here to school. And I’m her first period, so she’s always late for class.”

Many teen-age mothers find it difficult to make it back into school. Athania, for instance, has made a few failed stabs at earning a G.E.D.--a General Equivalency Diploma--but she is not working or attending school now and probably won’t any time soon. She is pregnant with her second child.

As students like Audie fail grades and fall further and further behind, officials say, the prospect of dropping out looms larger and larger.

“When a child is 17 in the ninth grade, if they’ve gotten behind that much, it’s rare that they actually graduate,” said Carver counselor Carla Stanfill. “You can almost be sure if a child is 17 in the ninth grade, they’re not going much further.”

Pattern of Absence

For such youngsters, skipping classes and tardiness become a pattern.

“Kids get frustrated,” Principal Moore said. “Things that are painful to them they avoid. If they are constantly failing, they will avoid this.”

Audie certainly has avoided class. In the first 90 days of this school year, he missed 58 days of algebra, 52 days of Spanish, 49 days of biology, 50 days of American history. His mother insists that he go to school, but he cuts class. Teachers and administrators said that he is not disruptive, he just doesn’t attend.

Question: Last year, you failed English, made a D in math, failed social studies, failed physical education, made a D in science. What happened last year?

Audie: I’m going to be frank. I used to cut school a lot with my friends. I knew everybody from my neighborhood. I was glad to be at Carver. I just got outrageous.

Q: How did you fail P.E.?

Audie: I didn’t like P.E. I just didn’t go.

Q: Doesn’t it bother you that you got an F in P.E.?

Audie: Nope.

Q: Why not?

Audie: It just don’t. I don’t worry about P.E.

Q: But you need it to graduate?

Audie: I had ROTC. I’m getting back in ROTC.

Q: Audie, you’ve been cutting classes and cutting classes. How do you expect to pass? In one class, you missed 60 days out of 113.

Audie: I don’t know whose class I could have missed 60 days in.

Q: Biology class.

Audie: I know I missed 23 days.

Q: Why?

Audie: I had the flu. . . . I know I’m supposed to put more effort in it than I do, but I don’t. It’s not like I’m disinterested. I’m not disinterested. I work at my pace.

Q: But if you don’t go to class, you can’t graduate.

Audie: I know, but see, me and Mr. Moore (the principal) made an agreement. Me and my mom had a conference. I agreed with Mr. Moore that I wouldn’t cut my classes no more. I’ve been trying to go to my classes the way I should.

Q: But you cut classes yesterday and you didn’t go to school today.

Audie: I woke up late.

Q: Why didn’t you just go to school late?

Audie: I wasn’t going to go to school late. I woke up at 10:30.

Q: So instead of missing some classes, you just missed them all?

Audie: I wasn’t going to school at all because I was tired anyway.

Q: Why were you tired?

Audie: I don’t know.

Q: Did you stay up late last night?

Audie: Yeah. I had company. . . . I guess I went to bed about 1 a.m.

As Audie slipped under the covers that night, one of his schoolmates, a senior, still had an hour to go on his job at a downtown hotel. At 2 a.m., he finished his shift and walked home. The buses had stopped running. With no father at home, he works to help his mother, who was recently injured on her job. The next day he straggled to school, where he is chronically tardy and doing poorly. School officials said “it will take a miracle” for him to graduate.

Earlier that night, another Carver senior finished work at 7 and, as usual, went home to fix dinner for her younger brothers and sisters. Her mother is ill.

Jobs Cut Into Time

Earlier in the year, a third senior missed taking a college entrance exam because the restaurant where she works 40 hours a week as an assistant manager was taking inventory that day.

Most Carver students have jobs. As early as they can get their hands on a work permit, usually age 16, they head for the hotels, the restaurants, fast-food places and supermarkets for jobs that pay minimum wage. They want things: clothes, new shoes, jewelry, radios and money for entertainment.

Audie has been talking recently to his mother about getting a job.

In many cases, students work “because they have to work,” Stanfill said. “Many of them support their other family members.

“It’s a strange contradiction. The parents want the child to complete his or her education, but they depend on them for support, which is hindering their education.”

Immediate Gratification

Aside from the simple problem of taking away time from school work, the idea of earning money lures students away.

“The guys who get the jobs, there’s some immediate gratification,” Stanfill said. “. . . they don’t think about five years from now. For kids, $40 to $50 a week is big money.”

Then there are the youngsters who make really big money--$300 to $400 a night--by selling crack. They come to school carrying more money than some teachers make in a week.

“It’s easy to make money for a young man because the level of saturation of drugs in his community is pretty high,” Stanfill said. “They see people who (did) graduate and they’re not making that kind of money. Many kids, they just don’t find any value in going to school.”

Aside from jobs, students often have other responsibilities that make finishing school difficult. Often, school officials said, the eldest child in a family has the responsibility of tending younger siblings, getting them off to school, preparing dinner, staying home with a brother or sister who is sick.

Adult Problems

“It’s a major problem,” Stanfill said with a sigh. “They have adult problems. Being responsible to other siblings, making sure they get to and from school, is an adult problem. Having to contribute to financial support is an adult problem.”

And for children, facing adult problems can be unbearable.

“I had two students, both seniors, who were walking around the school crying on two different days,” Stanfill said. “The girl was just crying on the steps. The other one, a boy, was standing in the hallway crying. When they talked to me about the responsibilities they had--I don’t know how they make it.”

As a student struggles to attend to such responsibilities and to a job, or is just overcome with indifference, school and its attendant chores--studying, reports, tests--tend to slip further and further into the distance.

Question: Did you study yesterday?

Audie: No.

Q: Why not?

Audie: I didn’t have time to study.

Q: What do you mean?

Audie: I didn’t have time.

Q: What did you have to do that you didn’t have time to study?

Audie: I just wasn’t thinking about studying.

Q: Do you dislike studying?

Audie: No. I don’t like to, but if it’s necessary that I have to, I will. But I don’t just go pick up a book and study. I’m not going to say I like the idea of studying.

Q: Does your mother get on you about studying sometimes?

Audie: Sometimes.

Q: Basically, she leaves it up to you?

Audie: Yeah, because I’m not a baby.

Q: So you make the decision on when you’re going to study and when you’re not going to study?

Audie: No, it’s not that. I obey my mama, but she just don’t be on me about studying. She figures I’m 17, I know what to do and when to do it. She’ll mention it, but she’s not going to keep nagging and nagging . . . .

Q: When you were held back, what did your mother say?

Audie: I was punished. But by me being young, she didn’t take the matter as harsh. I came to Mama and showed her my report card.

In Carver Principal Moore’s office, there are stacks and stacks of student report cards, more than 300 of them, that parents have never seen.

As part of an effort to keep mothers and father abreast of their children’s progress, officials require that parents come to the school six times a year and pick up their report cards.

At Carver High, about half the parents never show up, Moore said. After about 10 days, school officials mail the report cards home.

“In many cases, the report cards are returned because we have incorrect addresses,” Moore said. “The parents never see them and never inquire about them.”

Like others around the country, Carver teachers and administrators said the most frustrating part of their job is dealing with parents. They tell story after story about parents who are either ill-equipped to aid their child’s education or just too indifferent.

Lack of Parental Interest

Sometimes, they say, parents curse them when they telephone to talk about a child’s progress. Moore said that sometimes, he has to suspend a child before a parent will come in for a conference.

Audie’s mother insists that her son’s education is a high priority with her. But, when asked about Audie’s current grade level, she wasn’t sure what it was.

“I think he’s in the ninth grade,” she said.

Homework is another subject on which she was on a shaky footing.

“He gets his paper out, he gets his books and he does a lot of writing,” she said, “but I don’t know what he’s writing because he won’t let me see it.”

Moore, who was graduated from Carver in 1965, said that family life has changed since she was in school.

Pushed Their Children

“You had more parental support back in those days,” he said. “You had a large number of parents who felt the most important part of a family life was education. They really pushed their kids to complete their education.”

With lack of strong parental motivation, a weak educational foundation and many outside pressures, students such as Audie continue to flounder. With a few weeks left in the school year, Audie is failing every course except Spanish and reading. In those he is making Ds. If he maintains that grade, he will squeak by, into the 10th grade.

Question: If you get held back this year, you’ll be 18 in the 9th grade. Wouldn’t that bother you?

Audie: Yeah, but not to the point I would drop out. I would probably go to another school. Like a p.m. school.

Q: What’s a p.m. school?

Audie: It’s where there are older people, where you get a G.E.D.

Charles Kilbert, director of the adult education program for New Orleans, has noticed an influx of youths like Audie into his General Equivalency Diploma program.

“They think they are coming to G.E.D. classes to get a diploma without doing any work,” Kilbert said. “When they find out that it’s more difficult, they drop out.”

But it is not new dropouts who have expanded the program’s enrollment to 3,000 in the last few years, Kilbert said. It is unemployed adults who have been hit hard by economic changes in the New Orleans area.

“The people who lost their jobs have been going through training programs, and the training programs have said you have to go back and work toward your G.E.D.”

Irvin Joseph, president of the local longshoremen’s union, has watched with dismay as containerized shipping dramatically reduced demand for unskilled labor in New Orleans and else where in Louisiana. “At one time we were begging for employees,” Joseph said. “But now we have too many. We have guys out there--I feel sorry for them. There’s no jobs on the docks, but they don’t have that education to do anything else but manual labor. All we can give them is our sympathy.”

Struggling to Curb Tide

New Orleans is trying to come to grips with dropouts, as are other cities. Members of its Chamber of Commerce are struggling to put together programs that will stem the tide. They are studying a RAND Corp. report on how to mobilize to improve their schools.

“We’re no different from any other urban city,” said Hayes of the Business Task Force on Education. “We have to do a better job to get the young people educated so they can function in the new world. Our future progress depends on our ability to do that.”

Question: Audie, what would you like to do?

Audie: I don’t know.

There is a lengthy pause. Audie purses his lips and stares blankly at the houses across the street. He pulls up his collar against the afternoon chill. He will be leaving shortly to meet a group of friends, to spend the evening “just hanging out” in the mall. He will not study today.

Question: Audie, what’s going to happen to you?

Audie: I don’t know. I pray a lot.