CRACKING DOWN ON KIDS

Zero Tolerance Makes Zero Sense

Tyler Hagen did the right thing. When a friend asked the 13-year-old to
dispose of a dime bag of marijuana, Tyler took the pot to his parents. They
contacted sheriff's deputies, who retrieved the grass. That's great
parenting-the Hagens had built enough trust with their teenage son that he
went to them first.

School officials saw it differently. When they discovered that Tyler's
hands touched reefer while his feet were in contact with school property,
they suspended him for five days under the district's zero tolerance
policy, then transferred him to another school.

Zero tolerance defines the decade. As with mandatory minimum sentencing
laws, there are no exceptions, so no energy is wasted on thoughtful
consideration of a punishment that fits the crime. It also limits liability
for school administrators, who can testify that they followed the book,
especially since the book is only a page long, if that. How much space does
it take to write the word guilty?

By now you've heard of the excesses of zero tolerance, because a "no-
exceptions" policy guarantees excesses. In Mission Viejo, California a toy
cap gun fell out of a third-grade girl's backpack during class. A classmate
alerted the teacher. The school suspended the girl for a day, saying she
was getting off easy. The gun was just three inches long but looked "very
real," according to the principal.

In North Kingstown, Rhode Island officials suspended a six-year-old boy for
bringing a four-inch plastic knife to school. Asked if the school would
suspend a child who brought in a package of cheese with a tiny plastic
knife in it, the director of pupil services said he wasn't sure.

In Pensacola, Florida officials suspended a 15-year-old because she brought
fingernail clippers to school that included a two-inch fold-out blade to
clean under nails. Officials sent the sophomore home for ten days, then
recommended she be expelled. The police said that but for an oversight the
girl also would have been arrested.

In Glendale, Arizona a 13-year-old constructed a model rocket made with a
potato chip can and fueled by three matches. When school officials
discovered the toy in the boy's locker, they phoned the police and
suspended the aspiring scientist for the remainder of the year.

In Greeley, Colorado administrators suspended three students caught with a
plastic water pistol and a spring-loaded toy gun. State law requires
suspension, followed by expulsion hearings, for students who "carry, bring,
use or possess a firearm or firearm facsimile at school." In other words, a
kid caught with something that shoots water earns the same punishment as
one carrying a weapon that shoots bullets.

Elsewhere, students have been punished for the possession of a plastic ax
that came with a fireman's costume (five-year-old, Pennsylvania), a bottle
of Advil (13-year-old, Texas), a package of organic lemon drops
(six-year-old, Colorado) and an unopened bottle of wine (13-year-old,
Georgia, who presented it to his French teacher as a gift).

If there's any trend that typifies the lunacy of zero discretion, it's the
nationwide crackdown on Alka-Seltzer. The antacid makes for an easy prank:
Break off a piece, stick it on your tongue and create a "foaming mouth"
effect that's sure to make an impression. School administrators find
antacids particularly nefarious. In Sacramento, California last year, a
12-year-old was suspended because he shared a tablet he found while leaving
a science classroom, where it was used in experiments. Two other boys split
the tablet to make their mouths foam, a teacher spotted them, they fingered
their supplier and he received a two-day suspension. The boy's puzzled
mother asked, "If we're so worried about Alka-Seltzer, why is it floating
around his science class?"

In Bremerton, Washington 15 students received three-week suspensions for
experimenting with antacids. In Virginia, two middle school students
dropped a piece of Alka-Seltzer into someone's milk and tricked a friend
into putting a piece on his tongue. They received ten-day suspensions and
mandatory instruction in a drug awareness program. In Pennsylvania, a
13-year-old got ten days for putting an Alka-Seltzer on his tongue. In a
classic overreaction, his school also notified the police, searched his
locker and referred him to a county drug agency.

School administrators who adhere to zero tolerance policies, in a lesson
that surely resonates with students, find it difficult to admit that life
is full of exceptions. Instead, they tell reporters that they have "no
choice" but to punish everyone in the same way, whether the student had a
gun or a toy, whether he was a bystander or a buyer, whether he went to his
parents or to a party.