Some Students Laud Ordinance, Others Scoff

Even as President Clinton praised the city of Monrovia’s innovative anti-truancy efforts Monday, students at Monrovia High School debated the effectiveness of the policies.

The city’s anti-truancy law requires police officers to hand out $125 tickets to youths who are caught outside school without a valid excuse. The policy has led to a 42% decrease in truancy this school year, according to officials with the Monrovia Unified School District.

Many students who said they have never ditched school echoed Clinton’s approval of the law.

But according to students who brag about their poor attendance the way some people boast about their children, the policy cannot keep people in school if they don’t want to be there.

Reclining on a patch of grass outside Monrovia High, several marching band members shrugged at the pending arrival of the commander in chief. The only thing less interesting than the fact that the president was scheduled to speak in the school auditorium was what Clinton was scheduled to speak about, said Andrew Feola, a 16-year-old tuba player.

“If you want to ditch, you still can,” Feola said. “The only thing [the truancy law] does is make you better at getting away without getting caught.”

Besides, said Paul Bower, 15, “teachers don’t care if you ditch. If you show up to class and you’re stoned and stuff, like, they don’t like that, but they don’t care if you ditch.”

Teachers would disagree. So would parents. So would Clinton.

“Monrovia is a sterling example . . . that the American people will not have to tolerate schools that are dysfunctional,” he said. “If every community in America woke up tomorrow and decided to organize themselves the way you have here, the difference would be breathtaking.”

Niesha Traylor, 15, hasn’t seen anything breathtaking about Monrovia since she got a ticket for ditching school last November. Unable to pay the fine, Traylor was ordered to complete 27 hours of community service, she said.

“We were at [a diner], for like, two hours, and this lady saw us there and called the police,” Traylor said. “So then some big fat cop and some little skinny cop rode up on their bikes. They called for a police escort, and they took us in the police car back to campus. That’s the dumbest thing. For real.”

Animated and still angry about the experience, Traylor said she has ditched school several times since her ticket, but “now I don’t get caught.”

Now, Traylor said, you have to devise more elaborate plans if you want to leave.

“You don’t walk anymore,” said Melanie Sotelo, 16, a friend of Traylor. “You wait for someone to drive up to the front of the school and wait for you.”

Some students said they were less concerned about the truancy issue than the curfew. A Clinton proposal would force minors inside two hours earlier than the city’s current 10 p.m. curfew.

Said sophomore Laura Contino, 15: “[Clinton’s] thinking about changing it to 8. The Monrovia [Family] Fair closes at 9 p.m. I mean, that sucks.”

Sotelo, though a big fan of Pat Buchanan, said Clinton is one of the few authority figures who can lure her into school.

“It’s kinda cool to meet somebody who’s in charge of everybody,” she said.

Feola was less impressed. Dripping with sweat after performing with the band for the president in sweltering heat, Feola put his tuba down by his side. “This is not worth it,” he said.