Finding a Haven From Cliques and Other Annoyances

Even before the San Diego County school shootings in March, Tina Grossman had been troubled by the eat-or-be-eaten mentality she had observed at her sixth-grade daughter’s Santa Monica middle school.

When Grossman asked her daughter how she coped with being identified as a “scrub”--a sixth-grader new to the school--and a member of the “B crowd,” Emily told a remarkable story.

Every day, Emily lunches with a dozen or more friends, mostly fellow musicians, in the cheery, high-ceilinged music room at John Adams Middle School, where teacher Angela Woo has unwittingly created a sanctuary. Some students practice their violins, saxophones and clarinets, but mostly they chat.

All who enter Woo’s music room gladly abide by the code of conduct she has firmly established: Don’t trash the room. Be respectful of others. Keep conversations to a dull roar.

On average, 30 girls, age 11 or 12, gravitate there daily, perching on the gray-carpeted risers in two or three lively clusters. A few boys come in too, but they tend to stick together and let the girls be.

“We know there’s one place we can come every day and it’s going to be safe,” said Hannah Bernstein, 12, one of the music room regulars. “In here, it’s nice. New people can come in. Everyone is friendly and warm.”

As public middle schools go, John Adams, with 1,100 economically and ethnically diverse students on a large campus just south of Santa Monica College, rates above average, in both academics and appearance. Even so, the same ills that beset schools in less privileged areas--bullying, drug arrests, cliques, rough language--are well in evidence.

At lunchtime, most students sit at metal picnic tables lined up in the asphalt-covered quad areas. Between the low-flying sea gulls and the raucous shouts of schoolmates, the scene can seem chaotic and overwhelming. Throw in the unwanted attention of a few rowdy males and the chatter of the boy-crazy crowd, and it’s enough to drive some kids to distraction.

Although the girls have a number of eighth-grade friends who stick up for them, “sometimes it gets a little intimidating,” said Emily Grossman.

“Outside, there’s too much thinking about boys,” she added.

In contrast with many of their peers, these girls, with their retainers, freckles and pigtails, don’t want to grow up too fast.

“They’re very wholesome and fun,” said Woo, 33. “And they’re all wonderful, dedicated musicians.”

Even the few non-musicians who spend their lunch periods in the room have asked about taking up an instrument, an unexpected bonus for Woo.

A pianist and violinist who earned her music teacher’s credentials at UCLA, Woo said she relates to her young charges.

“Thinking back to my junior high days, the cliques were well-defined and intimidating,” said Woo, who grew up on the Westside and attended Emerson Middle School. “I was in the nerdy, geeky music crowd. I was very shy. Music was my outlet.”

The girls flocking to Woo, who has taught for nine years, prize her caring, respectful attitude and the way she pushes them to excel.

“Ms. Woo is the best. She’s positive, nice and sweet,” said Nita Contreras, 11. “She tries to make everybody succeed.”

Woo’s sanctuary has helped ease the fears of Hayley Etter, 11, and, by extension, her mom. “She was really affected by the [school] shootings, especially the one in Colorado, which was devastating,” said Diana Etter, Hayley’s mother. “For a while, she kept telling me she didn’t want to go to school. She was frightened that something like that would happen.”

Once Hayley started playing clarinet in Woo’s class and hooking up with the music room lunch bunch, her anxiety dissipated.

Psychologists say Woo has inadvertently hit on a key to success with vulnerable preadolescents making the tough transition from elementary to secondary school.

“Kids absolutely desperately need a place where they can belong, where they can talk and feel welcome,” said Dee L. Shepherd-Look, a professor of psychology at Cal State Northridge.

“This is what all kids are looking for,” agreed Howard Adelman, co-director of the National Center for Mental Health in Schools at UCLA.

Without setting out to, Woo serves as a model for what Adelman and his colleagues hope all schools can move toward: providing more opportunities for students to connect with teachers on an emotional level, apart from the pressure-cooker stress of the classroom.

“One of the things we’re trying to figure out is how we can help schools start to structure these kinds of opportunities in more regular ways, so kids start to perceive schools as more caring environments,” Adelman said.

Jerry Kantor, principal of John Adams, said the school has been striving to create a culture where children are respected.

Kantor likes the idea that some teachers keep their doors open after hours. Students, he said, need places where they can relax, away from books, whether it’s an art club, the baseball diamond or a music room.

Woo suspects that her effect on these girls will be fleeting. “I’m transitory in their lives,” she said.

But, as they head off for summer break and then seventh grade, it’s a good bet they won’t soon forget the way Woo laid out the welcome mat and allowed them to be themselves.

“We’re not dorky or anything,” Emily Grossman said. “We just want to be normal sixth-graders.”