DRUG EDUCATION SHOULD DARE TO BE DIFFERENT

Twenty years ago this week, the program called Drug Abuse Resistance
Education, or DARE, was born. It was the brainchild of then-Los Angeles
Police Chief Daryl Gates and the L.A. Unified School District. As DARE
moves out of its teenage years, I offer the same advice I gave to my son,
who also turns 20 this year: "Happy birthday, now grow up and get real."

DARE has received more attention than any other drug education program,
reaching students in 80 percent of school districts across the country. It
has also been singled out, because of negative evaluations, as one of the
worst examples of school-based drug-use prevention in the U.S.

Yet in terms of content ("drugs are bad") and message ("just say no"),
there is not much difference between DARE and other drug education programs.

The singular goal of DARE and other school-based education has been to
prevent teenagers from using drugs. This may sound straightforward, and it
is, of course, what all parents want. Yet with national surveys indicating
that more than half of American teenagers admit trying an illegal drug
before they finish high school, and 80 percent using alcohol (itself
obviously a drug), the reality is that the majority of teens are not just
saying no.

The DARE generation has become cynical about the mixed messages they have
heard. Though they are implored to abstain, they live in a nation that
hardly qualifies as drug-free. Teens see adults regularly drinking alcohol.
They notice aisle after aisle of intoxicating over-the-counter pain
relievers, uppers and downers. They see prime-time television ads for
antidepressants. They know that if they misbehave in school they may be
required to take Ritalin. And they also know that many of their parents
tried marijuana (and other drugs), got through this phase unscathed and now
admonish their own kids to "just say no."

"Know your audience" ought to be the watchword of every bearer of
information about drugs because teens have become more tired than
frightened by the barrage of scare tactics. Most teens - along with the
National Academy of Sciences - simply do not believe that marijuana causes
the use of harder drugs, that it leads to mental health problems or
aggressive, violent behavior, or that it is somehow qualitatively worse
than alcohol. Even the Office of National Drug Control Policy recently had
to pull its "drugs and terrorism" ads when it became evident that such
exaggerated claims had become a joke to many teens.

What young people need, rather than a short, stand-alone program, is drug
education that will equip them for a lifetime of making health decisions
involving a range of substances available to them.

With budget shortages threatening school districts across the country, we
should incorporate the subject of drugs, using sound science, into already
established high school courses such as biology, chemistry and physiology.
Some new high school textbooks, such as Holt, Rinehart & Winston's
"Sociology," have quality subsections about drugs, sexuality, violence and
other social issues. Teens with concerns, questions or problems about drugs
should be able to use student assistance programs staffed by knowledgeable
counselors; the trouble is there aren't enough of them.

We should, of course, keep students busy and engaged between the end of the
school day and dinner, which are peak drug-taking hours for teenagers. Our
teenagers will ultimately make their own decisions, just as we did. Isn't
that, after all, what we baby boomers wanted when we urged them to be
creative, critical thinkers who could deal with this complex world on their
own?

What students need is drug education that incorporates their intelligence
and resilience and goes beyond the simplistic "just say no" message.

Marsha Rosenbaum directs the Safety First project of the Drug Policy
Alliance in San Francisco.