The issue of racial disparities in school discipline cannot be separated from the conditions under which so many minority students attend school. These include overcrowded classrooms, a preponderance of poorly trained teachers and inadequate counseling staffs, and unchallenging curricula. All of these factors contribute to school settings described by Pedro Noguera, professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, as "large, impersonal and foreboding, a place where bells and security guards attempt to govern the movements of students, and where students, more often than not, have lost sight of the fact that education and personal growth are ostensibly the reasons why they have been required to go on a daily basis to this anonymous institution." It is in such environments, marked by heightened distrust between students, teachers and administrators, that zero tolerance thrives.
With police now a ubiquitous presence in so many of these schools, lawyers and children's advocates throughout the country have noted the vast increase in recent years in the numbers of minority children, some as young as 10 years old, who are being formally charged for behaviors that, in the past, would have resulted in little more than a visit to the principal's office.
They cite instances where throwing snowballs and kicking in the playground have become "assault with a deadly weapon," where flicking rubber bands during school assembly has been elevated to a "public disturbance," and where betting on baseball games has become "extortion." This situation has led many to observe that a parallel tracking system is in effect in our nation's schools: one feeding mostly white, affluent and middle class students to college, the other feeding poor, minority kids to prison.
The harshness of these practices would suggest that we are in the throes of an epidemic of school violence. The majority of the public, fueled by inflamed political rhetoric about youthful "superpredators" and widely publicized -- though still rare -- incidents of student shootings, apparently perceives that we are. But statistics released by the Justice Policy Institute and the Department of Education indicate that, in fact, crime has been steadily declining in public schools since 1990. In any given year, a student is three to four times more likely to be hit by lightning than to be the victim of violence in school. A recent bipartisan congressional working group concluded that: "Statistically speaking, schools are among the safest places for children to be." (It also is the case that few of the school shooting episodes were carried out by minority students.)
Try telling that to panicky school officials this fall. After the school shooting in March in Santee, Calif., many began to indiscriminately pounce upon any student action that could even remotely be considered a "threat." In the process, the distinctions between serious threats, carelessly muttered outbursts, stupid pranks, and even innocuous lists became blurred, if not erased altogether.
In Irvington, N.J., two 8-year-olds were arrested and charged with "making terrorist threats" for wielding a paper gun in class. In Illinois, an honors student and musician was suspended and kicked out of the band for making a list of individuals who "ticked him off." In Arkansas a 13-year-old cheerleader and basketball player passed a note to a friend as part of a game of insults. The note said: "We cant decide if we should burn you or bury you." Everyone agreed that this was only a joke; still she was suspended for 10 days, and referred to the county juvenile officer.
In Florida, a seventh grader was charged with a felony and suspended for 10 days after telling another student on the bus that he planned to bring a bomb and gun to school, then immediately stating that he was kidding. Although the principal recognized that the student had no plans to harm anyone, he maintained that zero tolerance statutes offered him "no leeway or room" to impose a lesser sanction.
This overreaction was taken to its illogical extreme in Manalapan-Englishtown, N.J. A local prosecutor met with school officials there to insist that all threats, no matter how minor, result in automatic suspensions and referrals to the district attorney. Apparently, this edict was taken very, very literally by school officials. The New York Times reported that, within a span of less than two months, 50 kids -- most under 10 years old -- were suspended and given police records for blurting out statements like "I oughtta murder his face" in a fit of pique.
Admittedly, it's understandable that, in the aftermath of a widely reported incident of school violence, officials would be squeamish and reactive. But, by anyone's standards, can referring kindergarteners to the district attorney for making statements they hear at home and on television be considered a rational approach to school safety?
A more plausible explanation lies in Noguera's suggestion that such actions serve a symbolic, rather than deterrent purpose. When a situation is perceived as being overly chaotic, "the act of punishment becomes an important exercise for showing who has control." Skiba backs up this view, writing, "Unprepared for serious violence, yet under intense pressure to do something, it is unsurprising that administrators choose remedies, such as zero tolerance and security technology, that they perceive as fast acting."
Within this fearful climate, fanned by political "get tough" rhetoric, how do parents, students, educators and advocates begin to inject some restraint back into the school disciplinary process? In fact, there is a growing movement against the practice of mindless cracking down in schools. Across the country, groups are becoming more vocal, organized and informed on this issue.
Next page: Zero tolerance targets and criminalizes students of color