They’re Trusting, Innocent and ‘Illegal’

“Have you ever interviewed any kick boxers or karate guys?”

“What’s the most favorite story that you ever wrote?”

“What was your most favorite interview?”

“What, um . . oh yeah! What was, uh . . . I forgot my question.”

Everywhere, it seemed, another hand was eagerly raised, another bright-eyed student with a question. More than 160 students, grades 3 through 5, had gathered for a half-hour assembly in the auditorium of John B. Monlux Elementary School in North Hollywood. The woman they know as Mrs. Seligson had told them they had an important visitor, and at this age children don’t just trust authority figures, they crave their approval.

When Mrs. Seligson asked them to quiet down, they quieted down. When it was time for questions, they leaned forward in their seats, raised their hands and gave that anxious look of “Pick me!” A few students forgot their questions, and a couple repeated ones that had been raised moments before. My answers, no doubt, mattered less than a moment of attention from someone Mrs. Seligson said was important--someone who actually has his name and his picture in the newspaper, even if the picture is out of date.

It’s nice to visit an elementary school, and not just to be a big man on campus. It can serve as a kind of reality check, as a reminder of basic values that are often lost in the political shuffle of opinion polls, focus groups and rhetoric. “Save our state!” goes the rally cry of Proposition 187, an initiative that in part seeks to control illegal immigration by tossing more than 300,000 students out of California’s public schools. How many of these kids were sitting in the Monlux auditorium, eager for a different kind of attention?

“I would suspect we have quite a few,” said Diane Seligson, the coordinator of Monlux’s Mathematics, Science and Technology Magnet program.

There are 173 students in the Monlux magnet, and 593 enrolled in the school’s standard curriculum. About 60% of the magnet kids are considered ethnic minorities, meaning Latino, black or Asian, and about 40% are considered white. But these labels are inadequate for describing the diversity. Many of the white kids, for example, are recent immigrants from Armenia, Russia and Israel. Seligson says that about 25% of the magnet students are classified as having limited proficiency in English. Some walk a few blocks to school and some get on buses at 6:30 a.m. in communities as far away as Gardena and Carson.

Seligson, a Northridge resident, has been a member of the Monlux faculty for 31 years, the last 14 as magnet coordinator. She takes a dim view of a law that would expect school officials to look into that auditorium and snitch on kids whose parents are “reasonably suspected” of violating immigration laws.

Let’s say Proposition 187 not only passes, but it somehow survives legal challenges. Never mind that the U.S. Supreme Court has already ruled that denying education to children of illegal immigrants violates equal-protection provisions of the 14th Amendment. Imagine, teachers being asked to do two-faced duty as immigration cops.

“I don’t think we’d make good ones here,” Seligson said. “I think all children should have an education. . . . I think we have to service whoever’s here.”

Lawmen such as Sheriff Sherman Block and Dist. Atty. Gil Garcetti would also be reluctant to crack down on kids. If Proposition 187 becomes law, they warn, thousands of children would be removed from the constructive, supervised atmosphere of school. On the streets they might be more prone to becoming both perpetrators and victims of crime.

Of course, many Proposition 187 fans don’t trust schools anyway. But you’ll have to take my word for it that inside the Monlux auditorium they would see students who were polite and attentive and exhibited only a few signs of what Seligson called “the squirmies.” Math and science aren’t the only subjects taught here.

“We stress manners and we stress following directions,” Seligson said. “We don’t just teach academics. We try to teach them to be good citizens and to care for each other.”

She watched while I was interviewed by the Monlux Magnet newspaper staff. A girl named Marika asked, “Who’s the most famous person that you ever interviewed?”

I thought a moment. “Magic Johnson,” I replied.

The kids oohed and aahed a bit. Mrs. Seligson, speaking their language, promptly suggested that a “famous” person might not be a sports hero or a movie star. She reminded them of a “most favorite” story I’d discussed earlier, about the dangers that firefighters faced during the rioting in 1992. She reminded them that I had said my “most favorite” interviews were with extraordinary people who aren’t well-known--people who might live in their own neighborhoods.

We talked about story ideas for the newspaper and the staff artists had a couple of suggestions for updating my picture.

Yes, it’s nice to be a BMOC. You meet the children and you don’t think about Proposition 187 until later. You don’t think that some of the children might be “illegal.” They’re just kids, innocent and trusting. And you hope that the grown-ups are worthy of their trust.

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.