Academies Give Troubled Young Students Hope

The boxy classroom resembles any other--rules posted on the wall and children’s sketches displayed prominently--until you read the students’ goals for the year.

Written in wobbly print and hung for all to see, the aspirations sound nothing like regular elementary school fodder; no dreams of becoming a fireman or wishes to own a puppy here.

Instead, they express heartbreakingly earnest pledges that hint at why the students have come to this school and what they must accomplish to leave it: I will not cuss in class anymore. . . . I will learn to accept no for an answer. . . . I will not fight in class. . . . I will not kick anyone in school.

Behavior problems in ever-younger children, combined with more stringent rules about student misconduct, have given birth to a whole new class of public schools: alternative academies for expelled elementary school students and those with chronic behavior and truancy problems.

They contrast with the old ways of dealing with troubled and troublemaking elementary students: quietly sending them to another district, enrolling them in private schools or expelling them.

Within the past several years, the Orange County Department of Education, which runs the schools of last resort for teenagers, has opened two mini-campuses for children 8 through 12 years old who may pose threats to their peers in conventional schools:

The preteen who tired of his classmates’ taunts and brought a knife to school. The fourth-grader who swiped neighbors’ bills from their mailboxes and tried to cash them like checks. The tiny boy who set fire to his desk while trying to light a firecracker. The Fullerton Academy is their school.

“It’s always a shock to find out young kids get expelled, but they do,” said Dan Sackheim, a consultant with the state Education Department. “They still need to be academically challenged and supported socially.”

The number of schools for the younger troublemakers soared after a 1995 state “zero tolerance” law mandated expulsion for students caught with weapons or drugs or who tried to commit a sexual assault. A companion bill gave school districts the authority to open their own alternative schools, called community day schools, rather than rely on county education departments.

About 175 school districts statewide operated community day schools this school year, compared with 15 three years ago. The number of these academies educating elementary students, who by law cannot be housed with older children, has jumped from 26 schools serving 134 students two years ago to 84 schools educating almost 1,300 children this past year.

The county and district alternative schools have small classes, serve students who have been expelled and offer psychological help such as anger management to families that want it.

Backers of the alternative programs call them a breather for students headed down the wrong path--a chance to start fresh, learn better habits and return to regular school.

But a critic of zero tolerance sees the potential for misusing the schools. Tustin education lawyer Veronica Norris, who has handled zero-tolerance cases, wonders if traditional schools are too quick to send away their behavior problems. The children might have learning disabilities or emotional problems or need special education that calls for different responses, she said.

“I think removing a child, especially [an elementary student], from his community is one of the most severe forms of punishment that a school can hand out,” said Norris, also a registered nurse. “And it should be reserved for only the most serious offenders after exhausting the special education system and counseling and some of the other things schools can employ.”

Educators at the special schools deny Norris’ allegations.

Rather than isolating children, the Fullerton Academy helps struggling students get their behavior under control so they can grasp academic material, said Helen Moore, the principal. School districts, reluctant to lose funding tied to student attendance, make many attempts to help students close to home, she said.

“I don’t recall any situations where a kid was just dumped because a teacher doesn’t want to deal with him,” she said.

At the Fullerton Academy, now in summer session, students come from Fullerton, La Habra, Anaheim and Brea. Some are painfully poor, their clothing tattered and ill-fitting. Others sport cargo pants and designer tennis shoes. They come from varied ethnic backgrounds.

Sitting still seems to be a universal problem. The boys wiggle in their seats. A boy so small that his feet don’t reach the floor swings his legs back and forth. For others, the only outlet for their energy is repeatedly asking to use the bathroom--just so they can move around.

Energetic as they seem, the boys (very few girls are referred to the academy) are subdued compared with how they behaved at other schools. There, frustration over a math concept might have led to a toppled desk or a flung pencil.

Here, teacher Alfredo Torres said, they are learning “how to play the school game.”