MEDICINE MAN

Donald Thompson carries the key that unlocks the medication strongbox
at Chicago's Montefiore Special School at 1300 S. Ashland Ave.

Weekday mornings around 11, he goes from classroom to classroom,
knocking on doors. The teachers and many of the students know why he's
there, but Thompson never mentions the word "medicine." As he escorts
certain students one at a time to his office, the school case manager
often jokes with them, but he's serious about his responsibilities. He
even takes the strongbox key home at night.

At Montefiore, a public school for boys with severe behavior
disorders, 12 of the 180 students take behavior-modifying medication
during the school day, including stimulants like Ritalin. About 25
percent of students take medication at home.

Unlocking the strongbox, Thompson pulls out a vial and checks the
dosage, doctor's name and address and signed parental consent form
against his files. He checks it again and shakes out a pill about the
size of an aspirin.

While Thompson arranges each dose, the student often grows restless.
Pre-medication restlessness isn't unusual, according to Thompson.
"Some of the kids like to come in here and pretend they're calling for
a pizza or play on the computer," he said.

Jonathan Hannus, 12, was diagnosed as having attention deficit and
hyperactivity problems a year ago. Before he began to take Ritalin, he
often threw tantrums, swore and yelled, and sometimes he threatened to
hurt himself, according to his grandmother, Marjorie Gardner.

In comparison, Jonathan's fidgeting in Thompson's office seems
mild.

Thompson summons him to the counter, and Jonathan takes his pill with
surprising speed. When he finishes gulping it down with water, he
looks up expectantly and Thompson hands him a piece of candy. For
students like Jonathan, this reward is a crucial part of the routine.

"The candy makes the other kids jealous," Thompson said. "One kid even
brought in a bag of chewable vitamins and said, `This is my medicine,
now where's my candy?' "

But Thompson doesn't joke about much else when it comes to the
students' medication. "It's serious stuff," he said.

David, 14, who didn't wish to provide his last name, also takes
Ritalin at Montefiore. It makes him feel "quieter," he says, "sort of
like another person."

David said he takes Ritalin because of his past behavior. "I was being
bad," he said, lowering his voice, "cussing at the teachers and
stuff." Sometimes, he said, the medicine gives him a queasy stomach.

Mary Ann Pollett, his principal, has worked at Montefiore for nearly
27 years. Students in the all-male school have been taking Ritalin at
school since the '70s, she said, but in the last 8 to 10 years, the
number has increased, as has the variety of drugs.

Pollett says she has reservations about "controlling behavior," but
finds it a matter of grim practicality. "All I know is that when some
of our children do not take their medication, especially some of our
larger students, it may take two or three adults to restrain them,"
she said. "It's heartbreaking."

At the school's daily assemblies, Pollett often talks to the students
about medication. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she says.
"It's like diabetes--you have to treat it."

Pollett acknowledges some of the complicated issues involved in
medicating children, especially in a school like Montefiore, which
draws high-risk students from all over the city. Many of the students
have been stigmatized already, Pollett said, and having to take
medication may just be accepting another label.

From a practical point of view, though, Pollett says that medication
offers a feasible means of calming students enough to allow them to
remain at school and learn.

"We save lives here," she said. "People with reluctance to put kids on
medication have to come here and see what kids are like without it."