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My stepson Michael socked one of his best friends in fifth grade. A funny, curious boy with a passion for movies, rap, and jelly doughnuts, Mike* suffers from a severe learning disability. Despite several years of remedial summer school, night school, and tutoring, he'd fallen desperately behind his classmates. Kids in our tidy, middle-class neighborhood, where parents expect a lot from their children, had seen Mike's hopeless efforts to read and compute, and they pounced. They called him dummy and retard. They shoved him. They shunned him at lunch and recess. "I hate my life!" he would say, miserably, at the end of the day. The day he punched Gordon was the day he couldn't take it anymore. The kids were filing in from recess. "Hey, dummy," someone said to Mike. Other kids joined in. Then Mike heard Gordy say it, too. Gordy-who lives on our block, sleeps over at our house, plays our stereo, drinks our diet cola-called Mike a dummy. Hurt and betrayed, Mike flew at his friend. They wound up wrestling on the floor until a teacher broke up the fight and sent both boys to the office. Every kid in school knew Mike was being teased and taunted. But the teachers and principal-all very caring people-were stunned to learn of it. As is often the case with bullying, the cutting words are hissed beyond teachers' earshot. That was Mike's last day in that school. After giving him a battery of tests, the district found a perfect placement for him with other bright kids with learning disabilities. Mike is thriving. He hasn't caught up, but he's on his way. Best of all, he's OK with who he is. This kid who'd moaned that he would never amount to more than a garbage collector now wants to be an architect. But what if Mike hadn't gotten the help he needed? In the last weeks before the fight, Mike's teacher called us several times, complaining that he was clowning around and disrupting class. Teachers everywhere spend huge chunks of their day trying to keep the lid on kids like Mike who are off-task, acting out, or otherwise out of sync with classmates. Everyone's education suffers. And minor disruptions can quickly become major incidents when ignored. Kids learn best in a climate of respect-respect for who they are as individuals and for what they need as learners. They're safer, too. Children who form an emotional bond to their school are much less likely to lash out at classmates or staff than students who feel no such attachment, research suggests. Schools around the Northwest are striving to make their schools havens of safety and unencumbered learning. In these pages, you'll read about schools that intervene early to steer kids away from disruptive and antisocial behavior. You'll visit schools that teach empathy-understanding others' feelings-along with skills for managing anger and resolving conflicts. You'll look in on communities that are weaving nets of support for at-risk youths before they tumble into trouble. We offer the latest findings on warning signs of violence. Finally, a school psychologist who helped manage last year's crisis in Springfield, shares the lessons she learned from that heartbreaking event.
*The names of the boys have been changed to protect their privacy.
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Date of Last Update: 9/28/01 
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