DARE ON HOLD, BUT DOES IT MATTER?

As you may have heard, due to the financial times we are all currently
experiencing, the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) program has
been suspended as a cost-saving measure by Aurora Police.

Since the announcement went public, many have asked me if DARE really
works. I have heard from those whose opinions I respect say
unequivocally that DARE does not work. On the other end of the
spectrum, I have heard others declare that the program absolutely
works. Unfortunately, there is no scientific method for proving that
either side is correct.

While I have never been a DARE instructor, I do have a bit of
experience to draw from when it comes to observations I've made about
the program as a police officer.

My strongest memory that made me question the effectiveness of DARE
was when I arrested a man in his late teens for possession of cocaine.
While I was placing handcuffs on him, he asked me if I knew a certain
Aurora police officer because that officer had been his DARE teacher.
I don't think I need to point out the obvious irony that he was being
arrested for possessing drugs. Clearly this was not a success story.
I've heard more stories from DARE instructors of the students they
taught who didn't receive the message being sent. However, for every
failure, I believe there are probably more successes.

The problem is that measuring those effective moments is impossible.
We may never know about an incident in a locker room or at a party
where a peer being offered drugs declines the proposal. It's similar
to being a parent and imposing values and moral lessons in your child.
You can never really know when they have heard your message and
internalized it. Sometimes it may take years for you to fully realize
the influence you've had. In the same way, we may never know that a
child who says no to drugs did so either consciously or subconsciously
because of the teachings instilled in them by their DARE officer.

I have also seen the ancillary benefits of DARE For some kids, the
only positive interaction they have had with a police officer is the
time they've spent with their DARE instructor. One officer told me
that after teaching a DARE lesson, a student stayed after class and
told her that his older brother (a gang member) had a gun under his
mattress. The officer conducted a home visit and seized the gun. We
can never really know if that child's trust in his DARE officer saved
a life by preventing a shooting.

I don't disagree with the decision-makers that our financial
constraints make it impossible to continue funding programs like DARE.
Unfortunately, the time and resources equate to money that is not
currently available. My personal hope is that we can re-evaluate the
program and reinstitute it when the economy recovers. The way I see
it, if we can empower one child to have the courage to say "no," then
the program is a success.

DARE reminds me of the starfish parable: A man went down to the beach
one day to take a walk. When he arrived, he noticed that the tide was
unusually low and that thousands of starfish were scattered over the
beach that had been exposed by the strange weather patterns. The man
looked out and saw a child out amongst the sea of starfish, gathering
them up and returning them to the ocean.

"What are you doing?" asked the man.

"Putting the starfish back in the ocean," the child replied. "If I
don't, they will die."

"But there are thousands of starfish beached out here and you're just
one person. You won't be able to save them all in time. Your actions
won't matter."

The child responded, "It matters to the ones I save."

Kristen Ziman is an Aurora police Lt.