DARE OFFICERS TAKE ON MORE THAN DRUGS

Police Officer Ursula Ortiz-Namoca watches Officer Chris Michaels' every
move. When he turns his back, she hurls a pen at him. He whirls around, but
he can't figure out where the Bic attack came from.

Ortiz-Namoca is one of the mentors in the DARE (Drug Awareness and
Resistance Education) program. She helps train police officers to become
DARE officers, and a large part of the training is learning classroom
management techniques.

"Never turn your back on your class," Ortiz-Namoca says. "If they want to
cause terror, they're gonna' do it. When you write on the chalkboard, always
stand sideways. That way, at least you know where the projectile came from."

For the past two weeks, police officers from the Honolulu, Maui County,
Kaua'i and Hawai'i County police departments, as well as military police
officers, have been learning the DARE curriculum and training to become
certified DARE officers.

The last days of their training are spent in practice sessions. Each officer
has 45 minutes to lead a class. The other officers role play as elementary
school students. The idea is to get some classroom experience before getting
in front of actual kids. In order to get the most mileage from the practice
sessions, the other officers are instructed to "act up" like a bratty class.

And they're merciless.

"Describe what peer pressure looks like, sounds like and feels like,"
Officer Vanessa Munoz instructs her class.

"What do you mean 'looks like?' "

"Like, what would it look like if someone said to you, 'Hey chicken?' "

"So we're supposed to draw a chicken?"

Munoz doesn't lose her cool, although during her evaluation, she admits that
they almost got her.

"They find out that after teaching 6 classes a day, they're worn out. They
don't have a voice left. But they enjoy it." says Sgt. Coby Tatsuyama.

The DARE training usually takes place on a school campus during summer
break. This year, the bulk of the training for 16 new officers was held at
Iroquois Point Elementary school. It was a nice fit, since school principal
Bob Elliott has been a Honolulu Police officer in active reserves for 22
years. He understands what it's like to go from enforcement to prevention.

"It's tough. It's like changing your whole mind set to be understanding, to
listen, and not to refer to them as 'little suspects' but as kids. Some of
them are naturals. Others are like, 'Oh all right. I'll be nice.' "

Says Ortiz-Namoca: "I tell them, yeah, Mr. Big Brawny Policeman, you think
you're the man now. Wait until you get in the classroom and one of the kids
comes to you with a problem. You're going to find yourself crying right
along with that child."

The DARE officers have to learn to handle very pointed questions, to build
trust and to use discretion when dealing with little kids with big problems.
The students are instructed to use the words "someone I know" instead of a
person's name when sharing a story and are told to answer only the questions
that they feel comfortable answering. Still, some very personal information
can surface -- stories of drug use and alcoholism in the home, of abuse and
neglect -- and the DARE officers have to deal with that information very
gently.

"As a cop in the classroom, you have to be careful because if they're
talking about Mommy and Daddy using drugs, you're not going to go bust Mom
and Dad," Elliott says. Instead, the police officers notify the school
counselor and go through the school's set procedure for dealing with such
matters.

The highest goal of each DARE officer is to become a responsible, trusted
adult in the lives of children who may not have many solid adults in their
lives. To do that, it often takes more than the 10-weeks of 45-minute
classroom sessions. For Ortiz-Namoca, it takes showing up for school May Day
programs, dressing up for school Halloween parties, spending lots of her own
time on campus, buying the kids school supplies with her own money, even
baking treats for her students. She once baked 1,200 cookies so she was sure
all her kids would get enough.

"People think of DARE as a drug prevention program," she says, "but my
philosophy is that it's a program that teaches decision-making skills,
builds self-esteem, and helps them learn to make good social choices. Kids
all know drugs are bad. We don't have to teach them that. The honest fact is
that some of the kids know more about drugs than the officers do. ... You
know you're making a difference when a child comes up to you and asks for
your help."

HPD rotation policy mandates that DARE officers be re-assigned to another
department after five years in the classroom. Though none of the DARE
officers wants to speak out publically about this policy, it's clear they
don't like it. Five years isn't long enough to see their "babies" through
school. After five years, they get really good at teaching. Then they have
to move on.

Ortiz-Namoca instructs the new officers to walk the line between maintaining
order in the classroom and letting the kids know their hearts are in the
job. If they act up, nail 'em, she advises. Start out firm with your rules.
And if you say you're going to show up, you'd better be there because a lot
of these kids don't need another adult in their lives breaking promises.

"We can't save them all," she says wistfully, her eyes far in the distance.
Just when you think maybe she's not as tough as she looks, she adds, "but
we'll try."