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FASCISM IN AMERICAN SCHOOLS
By Mark Fritz
PORTSMOUTH, N.H.-Today's topic, class, is ethics: If somebody
offered you $50, would you be more inclined to turn in a fellow
student who did something wrong? Try this pop quiz on Mrs. Foley's
freshman English class, and not a single hand goes up. But ask
them if they think somebody else can be bought, and hardly
a hand stays down. Everybody knows somebody who would turn informant
in exchange for a trip to the Gap.
"People are greedy," says Charlaina Hughes, a 15-year-old
freshman with a blond pixie haircut. Police are banking on that.
In this quaint resort community where the Piscataqua River meets
the North Atlantic, local police and Portsmouth High School officials
have come up with a crime-fighting program that includes one eye-popping
component: Report wrongdoing, win valuable prizes.
The program has yet to go into effect, but ever since the school
board approved it last June the town has been debating the morality
of using cash to coax kids into doing the right thing. Setting
the amounts, ranging from $10 to $100, would be left to a special
panel of students. "Oh God, it's been crazy," said
Mary Carey Foley, the English teacher and student liaison who
will be responsible for fielding anonymous tips from young informants.
"You wouldn't believe the [debate]. The local paper had
a cartoon with a valedictorian, salutatorian and a snitch-atorian."
As unusual and, as some critics contend, as cynical as the program
seems, scores of other high schools are offering similar cash
incentives, from Fresno, CA., to Boulder, CO., to Amarillo, TX.
In the last year, Baton Rouge, LA., and Albuquerque, NM., have
added the program and Charlotte, NC., expanded it from a handful
of schools to all the high schools and even down to the middle
schools - 53 campuses in all. In Charlotte, tens of thousands
of posters and stickers cover the campuses with an Orwellian logo:
a pair of eyes, some of them with the paranoia-inducing warning
"Who's Watching?" followed by a hotline number. Police
credit the program with solving a recent homicide, recovering
a couple of stolen cars and letting authorities intercept a knife-concealing
kid who'd bragged to friends that he intended to eviscerate a
teacher. (If the teachers cannot gain the respect of the children
in order to educate them, they are left with the thankless job
of having to disarm them; either way, who is the failure,
the adult or the child? WFI Editor)
Other places are tempting students to report campus crime with
T-shirts, gift certificates, pizzas, autographed baseballs and
other things coveted by young consumers, said Mary Parker, a criminologist
at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. The logical extension,
she said, will be for schools to move these programs into increasingly
lower grades, reflecting a perception that ever younger children
are exposed or inclined to criminal behavior, and that desperate
times call for drastic measures.
Such well-meaning bribery takes many forms. Parents of punctual
children were in an uproar when Oregon's Multnomah County recently
decided to pay parents of chronically truant students $3 for every
full day of classes their kids attended and $1 for each half-day.
Parker said some schools offer rewards to entire classes if,
say, they collectively cut down on playground incidents or absenteeism.
She said programs like the one adopted in Portsmouth are simply
copies of programs already in place in the adult world. (The
educational bureaucracy spends 12 years basically pounding on
the independence of each child, until the child learns to comply
meekly with the dictates of institutional authority; there is
an implicit understanding between institutions that recognizes
that independence in individuals is a threat to the social control
of the institutions. Paying children to attend school infers
that what is being offered at school is not enlightenment, but
behavioral conditioning. WFI Editor)
SCHOOLS AS EXTENSIONS OF LAW ENFORCEMENT
"It's not a system of snitching or ratting, per se,"
Parker said. "It's just the citizens of that community policing
that community. Does it work? People are caught. I would suggest
that, yes, there is some benefit." Yet many others find
the concept of using money to modify student behavior theoretically
unsound and ethically appalling. The atmosphere it creates is
the wrong one, said University of Maryland criminologist Denise
Gottfredson, coauthor of a congressional report on juvenile crime
and a leading authority on school-based crime prevention. "The
kind of school environment that is conducive to positive school
behavior is one in which students feel they belong and trust one
another," she said.
Oddly, the program in Portsmouth shares its roots with such titillating
television shows as "America's Most Wanted." Both are
offshoots of the popular Crime Stoppers community crime-watch
program, which was thought up by an Albuquerque police officer
in 1976 and since has spread to hundreds of towns. Typically,
a crime is advertised and people with information can call in
anonymously and, if the tip results in a conviction, claim an
award. The school-based offshoot was the brainchild of Larry
Wieda, a Boulder police investigator who got high schools there
to adopt the idea in 1983. "The bottom line is, let's get
into the real world here, folks," he said. (The "real
world," wherein police wiretap suspects without court
orders, where the paramilitary police forces hold the general
civilian community in contempt. WFI Editor)
A 1986 National Institute of Justice study found that Crime Stoppers
programs resulted in an average 6.5% increase in crimes solved
in communities that used those programs, but the jury remains
out on whether they prevent crime. Such programs may be good
to catch a high-profile serial criminal but probably not to cure
a widespread social problem like drug use, said Dennis Rosenbaum,
a coauthor of the NIJ study and head of the Criminal Justice Department
at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
CRIME PREVENTION THROUGH FEAR AND PARANOIA
"You may have some beneficial effect, but is it worth creating
the fear and mistrust and other possible negative effects that
you introduce into that environment?" he said. "If
we continue in that direction, then we will have a society that
consists of gates and cameras and anonymous reporting."
(Recently a television show went into the files of the Gestapo
in pre-war Germany, and found that many people informed on their
neighbors for eccentricities, as well as anti-Nazi opinions.
Inviting people to turn on their friends and family does not strengthen
the family or the society or the nation. WFI Editor)
In fact, the hottest trend in school crime prevention is closed-circuit
camera systems, said Ronald Stephens, executive director of the
National School Safety Center in Westlake Village, California.
Nevada's Clark County schools recently put in an elaborate system
designed by the firm that wires the surveillance video at Las
Vegas casinos. Grim as the Crime Stoppers programs seem, in many
cases they provide a necessary mechanism for students to pass
on information, he said. Stephens said he conducted a survey
at a school in Texas the day after two students were shot and
found that 54 had known a kid had come to school with a pistol
that day. "It was the typical code of silence," he
said.
The idea of putting adult-style crime programs into the schools
fits into the broader trend toward treating kids with adult gloves.
Even before the schoolyard killings in Jonesboro, Ark., in March
- in which the alleged killers of five people were two boys, ages
11 and 13 - most states already had changed their laws to make
it easier to prosecute juveniles as adults. Many states have
thrown out their minimum age of adult prosecution. The campus
anti-crime programs are dependent on getting kids to turn each
other in, and that remains one of the great youth taboos, even
in colleges.
In the past three years, Colgate, Georgetown and Drew universities
tried to pass honor codes that included an obligation for students
to report cheating, but in each case ethics committees backed
down in the face of student opposition. Colgate officials were
so disheartened by a student vote against the honor code that
the university dropped out of the Center for Academic Integrity
at Duke University, a consortium dedicated to promoting ethics
at the nation's institutes of higher learning, according to center
director Sally Cole. Duke - which is among several universities
nationwide with a Crime Stoppers-style program - itself passed
an honor code in 1993 that requires students to report cheating
but not necessarily name the cheater. Cole said there is a movement
underway to strike even that lenient provision.
One reason may be that students cheat more than they used to,
said Donald McCabe, a Rutgers University associate provost who
has studied honor codes and cheating for several years. Not only
do they do it more, but they are more likely to rationalize it,
with many arguing that they do it because everybody does it, he
said. Earlier this year, an insurance industry study found that
people in their 20s were far more likely to overstate an insurance
claim than older people and to believe there was nothing wrong
with that. (The inference is that younger people are almost innately
dishonest, which is an outrageous assertion. WFI Editor)
McCabe said he has just begun researching cheating at the high
school level, and the things he's hearing from his focus groups
are similarly disturbing. "I had 19 high school students,
and all admitted to some cheating," he said. "It's
just not a big deal. I think they're relating that to what they
see is going on in the greater society." (Youth also are
limited by their experience, so that they are unable to fathom
the consequences of their actions. The nature of attaining maturity
includes recognizing the fact that the events of one's life are
directly connected to the actions and decisions we make as individuals;
to deny young people the opportunity to make mistakes is to insist
that they defy the laws of nature. WFI Editor)
BRINGING HITLER-YOUTH TO AMERICAN SCHOOLS
It's a big deal to Katie Berounsky, a sternly serious student
in Foley's English class. She goes into the girls' restroom and
it's covered with cigarette ashes, and she'd like to see the school
do something about it. Last year, she even went to a teacher
and reported somebody who had been cheating on a test that she
also was taking. She said she supports the school's Crime Stoppers-style
program because maybe it will make people behave better, since
nothing else seems to be working. "Kids don't seem to learn,"
she said. (Of course, many individuals might resist being forced
into obedience by an institution, and it is always overlooked
that instead of trying to coerce the youth into submission, the
leaders of the republic - including the teachers and administrators
of the public schools - COULD simply renounce
fascism, and decide that it is okay for individuals to
enjoy political freedom. WFI Editor)
Reactions among other students were naturally mixed. Students
with good reputations were worried about being blamed as a snitch
even if they weren't, while students with less sparkling standings
fretted about being framed for something they didn't do. Others
questioned how something could be anonymous since the perpetrators
of a campus crime would likely know who saw them. School officials
plan to introduce the program to the student body at an assembly
in two weeks. Foley already has chosen a 12-member student committee
that will be charged with setting the reward amounts. She said
students from the Drama Club likely will engage in some role-playing
to show students how the program will work. If someone sprays
graffiti on a wall or pinches a jacket from a locker, Foley will
advertise it on bulletin boards or in the school paper. She will
have her own hotline that students can call. The hope is that
the anonymous nature of the program will eliminate the stigma
attached to tattling, she said. ("Tattling" almost
makes becoming a government informant cute. WFI
Editor)
"Everyone is thinking how awful that is, that a kid would
snitch on another one," she said. "It's an unspoken
code. You just don't do it. Socially, it isn't a cool thing
to do." (So when she doesn't get invited to any parties,
at least she will know why. WFI Editor) It's sort
of cool in Charlotte. The student surveillance is so successful
that authorities have difficulty raising enough money to keep
up with the thousands of dollars in awards that are being paid
out, said Charlotte police investigator David Wilson, the local
police coordinator. "Kids are reporting stuff that happened
off campus," Wilson said. "That's never happened before."
(Has it ever crossed any of these bright cops minds that they
might just be sending the wrong signals to impressionable teenage
minds: Why go to school for a career; especially when so much
money can be made turning in your friends to police? WFI
Editor)
In Charlotte, a kid makes a call, gives a tip and gets a code
number, Wilson said. If the information pans out, the informant
can call back and identify him or herself with the code number.
Wilson gives them a few locations to choose for the money exchange
with a cop. "We make the payoff, they sign the code number
and they leave," Wilson said. Wilson said the top prize
so far has been $400 paid out to somebody who led police to the
perpetrator of an auditorium fire. What happens if, say, the
prosecutor needs the tipster's testimony in court to make a case
against the suspect? "Well," Wilson said," that's
too bad, because we don't know."
Such programs are all part of the perennial groping by schools
to have something in place that they can point to in case a particularly
bad crime occurs, said Gary Marx, senior assistant executive director
of the American Assn. of School Administrators. "What schools
want is a safe and orderly environment, and they're looking for
techniques to attain that." In Portsmouth, a city of 25,000,
school officials say minor drug use, hooliganism and the occasional
pinched jacket are the extent of the crime problem. Yet the school
is a petri dish of vogue initiatives. DARE, PAL, PRIDE, STAR,
PEEP and COPS are among the alphabet soup of acronyms aimed at
keeping students on the straight and narrow. Athletes, for example,
must sign contracts swearing off alcohol, drugs and tobacco.
(Whenever a bureaucrat wants to get a program financed, the first
thing he comes up with is a catchy acronym, like DARE; then, to
show that the program is effective, tons of money is allocated
to be spent on television, radio and print ads, along with bumper
stickers and buttons. Real, hands-on programs, however, are avoided,
because then the program runs the risk of failing overtly, and
as long as the program is measured in political terms of how high
its profile is in the community, its handlers can call it a "success."
WFI Editor)
The school also recently adopted a plagiarism code in an attempt
to regulate the latest trend in misbehavior: the propensity for
students to sign their names to some piece of research they've
found on the Internet. If it's determined that somebody did indeed
download someone else's work, Principal Rick Gremlitz said, a
notation to that effect goes into the student's permanent record
(yes, there really is one), which could hurt their college prospects.
(The same threat is used later in life, when authorities threaten
to report information to credit bureaus. The point all along
is to threaten the individual through what is basically
a system of blacklisting. WFI Editor) Out in the parking lot, where the caste and clique system takes on Darwinian selectivity, the reactions to yet another program were greeted with a collective shrug. Bob Gemas and his group, kids who take on the protective coloring of post-punk nihilists, are not fans of the hotline crime program. Gemas stopped playing hacky sack for a moment to pick up his leather jacket and point to the rows of spiked metal studs. "They banned these, but after a while they just stopped enforcing it." He fingered the heavy chain with the Master lock around his neck. "They banned chains," he said. "They banned beepers. As soon as they make a rule, they stop enforcing it." The latest rule, he said, is just that. "It's just another dumb idea." SOURCE: Reprinted from the 3 May, 1998, issue of the Los Angeles Times, Orange County edition. Excerpted in the public service of the national interest of the American people. |
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