Categories
Arts

Monticello High opens doors of opportunity with Urinetown

Madeline Michel doesn’t care for musicals. “I hate them,” she laughed. “They’re boring, and I can almost never sit through the second act.”

Which begs the obvious question: Why in the name of Stephen Sondheim does the Monticello theater director devote countless hours every spring to putting together a high school musical?

“It’s all about the dancing,” the former New Yorker and 1980s “club kid” said. At Monticello, “dance has been the catalyst that has brought young people together and has attracted students who would otherwise not perform.” Inclusion, according to Michel, is what the MHS theater department is all about.

“I have noticed from attending festivals, competitions, and performances over the past six years of teaching drama that minorities are underrepresented in high school theater programs,” she explained. “Ironically, it is the very richness of diversity that lends energy and complexity to a production. Establishing a diverse program is important because theater opens doors and offers opportunities to young people. All young people should feel a part of that experience.”

This year, that experience is the Tony Award-winning satire Urinetown, which, from May 9-11, will transport audiences to a time and place where private toilets have been outlawed, thanks to decades of drought and the ensuing water shortages. The evil Urine Good Company is running things, and it charges people a fee to pee. Until, that is, the people get mad as hell, and decide not to take it any more.

Not your typical feel-good high school musical fare to be sure, but Michel said it takes something with an edge to attract a cast like this year’s dancers, singers, and actors who’ve devoted so many hours to Urinetown. Gabriela David-Guzman and Alex Espinosa-Navarro, two of the show’s student choreographers, are both performing in the production, “but they never would have defined themselves as actors,” Michel said. “It was the dance that drew them in. Dance is the universal language.”

Espinosa-Navarro, a junior who recently learned that he’s been accepted to the 2014 Virginia’s Governor’s School for dance, said his foray into musical theater was a happy accident, courtesy of “a girl who told me to stay after school” last year during auditions for In the Heights “so I could listen to her sing. Ms. Michel noticed me, and asked if I knew how to dance, and then she [encouraged] me to try out for the show. Until then, it never crossed my mind that I would be acting—or that I would be good.”

With less than two weeks before opening night, Michel, who’s just recovered from a weeklong illness, admitted, “we still have several bumps to get over.”

Onstage, a couple dozen actors are going through a sound check. “Madeline! Madeline!” someone shouts from the back of the darkened auditorium. A different voice, from another corner of the room, booms, “Everyone with a mic, please sing something together,” which prompts the cast to break into a perfectly harmonized and extended rendition of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”

A small orchestra warms up in an under-stage area, and after a few lighting issues are solved, the cast launches into the show’s opening number, “It’s a Privilege to Pee,” and the bumps that Michel mentioned appear to be few and far between. With the exception of a rare flubbed line or a missed cue, the entire cast seems ready for its close-up.

Several weeks earlier, Braelyn Schenk, a senior at MHS who plays Hope Cladwell, daughter of the Urine Good Company owner, and serves as the production’s third choreographer, echoed her director when she said her passion for acting is due, in part, to the theater being “a place of community, a place for everybody where powerful things can be said in a way that many people can understand them.” Schenk said her work on In the Heights “changed my life, and inspired me to want to use theater, dance, and music to serve underprivileged communities, specifically Latino communities.”

Schenk, however, isn’t the only one who wants to give back. Every nickel earned during the Saturday matinee performance of Urinetown will go to the Charlottesville Free Clinic, “a beacon of fine community service that supports so many of our students and their families,” Michel said.

“I have a real connection with Monticello High School,” added the former English teacher whose three children (now in their 20s) graduated from MHS. While her theater program is “a work in progress,” Michel said her students are family. As freshman Nina Gates put it, “I found my place here, with these people. Everybody is welcome; every culture is accepted. I have honestly never been happier.”

Urinetown Monticello High School Auditorium May 9-11

 

Categories
Living

A bumpy road: Failure may be the secret to your child’s success

Several years ago I received an e-mail from a mother who was putting together an end-of-season celebration for my youngest daughter’s soccer team. In addition to party details, the message requested money to buy trophies for the players. Trophies? For a team that had just gone 0-8? Ridiculous, I thought. But I didn’t want to be that mom, so I kept my mouth shut and ponied up $15.

Last year, the same daughter came home from seventh grade excited about auditioning for a solo in her school’s winter jazz band concert. As the days went by, I couldn’t help but notice that very little trumpet music was coming from her bedroom. Not surprisingly, my daughter arrived home from school on try-out day and told me the solo had gone to someone else.

While sympathetic to her disappointment, I reminded her that she’d practiced very little, and probably didn’t perform the piece as well as the competition, and therefore neither earned nor deserved the solo. I’d like to say she nodded her head in understanding, gave me a hug, and over a shared bowl of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, we discussed the merits of hard work. Alas, my child threw down her backpack and stormed upstairs, where she stayed behind a locked door with her cat until hunger got the better of both of them.

But a few months later, when another opportunity was offered up, she practiced. A lot. And in May my kid played a terrific trumpet solo during her band’s spring concert.

When my children were much younger I met Wendy Mogel, a Los Angeles-based psychologist and author of the books The Blessings of a Skinned Knee and The Blessings of a B-. To this day, I remember Mogel telling me that as my girls got older they would fail—and that’s O.K. Making mistakes is crucial to a child’s ability to face bigger adversities later in life, Mogel said, and she cautioned that I should “resist the urge to intervene and rescue” them.

Putting aside the fact that it’s in a mother’s DNA to intervene and rescue her children, Mogel’s advice was some of the best, albeit the toughest, that I’ve received in my nearly two decades of parenting. As they’ve grown up, my girls have probably lost as often as they’ve won—even when they’ve been good at something—and I realized early on that calling teachers, coaches, or friends’ parents when things didn’t go my kids’ way wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

I had to keep reminding myself that it’s not my job to manipulate my children’s losses into victories. It’s my job to assist them as they work through setbacks. I’m there to help them focus on their goals, and to realize there’s something valuable to be learned when the outcome isn’t what they’d hoped for or expected.

Mogel recently said that college deans have begun referring to some incoming freshmen as “teacups,” because they’re so fragile they break down when life becomes challenging.

“Well-intentioned parents have been metabolizing their children’s anxiety for them their entire childhoods,” Mogel said of these kids. “So they don’t know how to deal with it when they grow up.”

Some parents, she added, “perceive the world as so competitive and dangerous—there are only 10 good colleges, the drugs are stronger, sex more dangerous—that they wish for their child to go straight from sweet third grader to junior statesman. They hope that with the right strategy their child can skip the stage of adolescence—of risk-taking, bad choices, oversleeping, and sketchy friends—entirely.”

This fall, my eldest is headed to college, a place where she’ll probably take even more risks, make a few bad choices, oversleep a lot, and pal around with people I might not approve of. Does this make me nervous? You bet it does. Here’s the thing, though: Over the course of nearly 18 years, my daughter has won plenty, but she’s also hit some bumps and suffered a setback or two. She’s fallen, and she managed to get back up and brush herself off, a little battle-weary at times, but wiser and better prepared for what lies ahead. She’s learned that life is messy; bad things can happen. Her world isn’t perfect. Her father and I hope that, through trial and error, our first-born has figured out how to solve her own problems and make smart choices. We like to think she’s no teacup.

In a New York Times Magazine cover story, the headmaster at a prestigious private school said, “People who have an easy time of things, who get 800s on their SATs, I worry that those people get feedback that everything they’re doing is great. And I think as a result, we are actually setting them up for long-term failure. When that person suddenly has to face up to a difficult moment, then I think they’re screwed, to be honest. I don’t think they’ve grown the capacities to be able to handle that.”

Which brings me back to that $15 trophy. Last summer, when we were in the thick of re-doing my younger daughter’s bedroom, she came clanking down the stairs, dragging a bag that she dropped on the floor at my feet. When I looked inside, I saw it was filled with trophies and medals. “You want to throw them all away?” I asked. “Yes,” she answered. “I didn’t really do anything to earn any of them, so they don’t mean much.”

Categories
Arts

The Oratorio Society of Virginia sings in the season with Christmas at the Paramount

At 7:30 sharp on a recent Monday evening, Michael Slon, conductor of The Oratorio Society of Virginia, took his place before the chorus.

“Deep breath in, blow it out,” Slon said, and the Municipal Arts Center on Fifth Street filled with the sound of 83 sopranos, altos, tenors, baritones, and basses, warming up for their weekly two-hour rehearsal.

“Oh, oh, ah, ah, oh. Zee, zay, za, zo, zoo. Me, may, mah, mo, moo,” they sang.

“Shoulders back and forward,” Slon instructed them. “Tilt your head to the side, and the other side, and massage your jaw. Deep breath. Blow it out.”

“We had a good rehearsal last week,” Slon told them, “but we still have more to do if we’re going to be ready” for two shows at The Paramount Theater on Saturday, December 21.

In addition to the Benjamin Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols, tonight they will run through “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” “Silver Bells,” “Betelehemu” (a Nigerian carol), and a complex, jazzy arrangement of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”

The next day, Slon, director of choral programs and a professor at the University of Virginia’s McIntire School of Music, met me for coffee on the Downtown Mall. He grew up singing and playing the piano in Buffalo, New York, and busted out laughing when I (a Minnesota native) told him that every public school within a 50-mile radius had cancelled classes that day in anticipation of dangerous winter weather that never materialized.

We waxed nostalgic for tough Northerners and the snowy climes of our youths, and then our conversation turned to the Oratorio Society, which Slon has conducted since 2011.

I asked what prompted him to add the chorus to his already overflowing sideboard of musical obligations that includes conducting the University Singers, Chamber Singers, the Charlottesville & University Symphony Orchestra, and working on a Leonard Bernstein “project” that he hopes will eventually become his second book. (Slon’s first book, Songs from the Hill, is a history of the glee club at Cornell University, his alma mater.) He’s also in the thick of wedding planning, having gotten engaged not long ago to a lawyer.

“I did reflect on all my commitments, and I felt I had the ability to make a difference for this group, and that conducting it would also be fulfilling for me because it was an opportunity to connect with this community in a new way, a way that I don’t via my position at the University,” Slon said. “I also saw it as a chance to try to contribute something more to our musical life in Charlottesville.”

In addition, he enjoys leading a group that “offers talented local singers a chance to rehearse and perform at a high musical level and to engage with some of the finest works in the choral repertoire. It is our goal, as Bernstein’s Candide says, to ‘make our garden grow.’”

And grow it has. According to Jane Colony Mills, the Oratorio Society’s executive director, more than 1,500 singers have performed with the group during its 45-year history. “When the Society was formed in the 1960s, there was no other organization like it in the area, no other opportunity to perform choral masterworks,” she said.

“Good programming is a challenge for any conductor,” Slon said. “We tend to mull it over at great length. With the season, the challenge is to find the balance among fulfilling our mission of singing what we might call choral masterworks, balancing the budget, and programming works that will engage the singers and audiences in new ways.”

At Monday night’s rehearsal, Peg O’Bryant, librarian for the Albemarle Charlottesville Historical Society and the Oratorio Society’s longest-singing member, stopped by a table in the back of the Municipal Arts Center to pick up copies of “O Come, O Come” and “Silver Bells.” O’Bryant joined the Society in the fall of 1975 when she and her husband moved to Charlottesville, and she’s stuck with it for nearly 40 years for a simple reason: “We do gratifying and edifying music,” she said.

During a brief break later in the evening, Lloyd Snook, an attorney who has sung with the Oratorio Society for 13 years, said “singing makes me feel good, whether I’m singing in the shower or in front of a campfire or here on Monday nights. It’s a release that takes me away from the law and the heavy things that I spend 40-plus hours a week dealing with.”

Patsy Dass, a clinical psychologist, said she joined the ensemble seven-and-a-half years ago because “I just wanted to sing. Music is one of the most uplifting things, whether you’re singing or listening to it.”

“It’s what makes us human,” added Elaine Alpern, a nurse practitioner and mother of four children, ages 5 to 11. And singing “is not related to my job or my kids. I sometimes see it as something else I have to do, but once I’m here, I’m so glad I’m here. It’s kind of like exercise.”

Oratorio Society auditions are held three times a year, in late August, January, and mid-spring, and Slon said the door is always “wide open” for anyone interested in joining.

On Saturday, the chorus will be joined by a pair of youth choirs: the Burley Bearettes, directed by Craig Jennings, during the 2:30pm performance, and the Albemarle High School Patriot Singers, conducted by Jennifer Morris, at 7:30pm. Other collaborations this season include a March 1 sing-in to benefit PACEM, “where we invite all interested singers to join us in singing the Vivaldi Gloria and Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus at First Presbyterian Church,” said Jane Colony Mills. “In May, we’re collaborating with Ash Lawn Opera to present two semi-staged concert performances of Bernstein’s Candide at the Paramount.”

Slon likes to quote Bernstein, a composer and conductor he deeply admires because “he was a force of nature with a contagious love of music, the most accomplished of American conductors, and an inspiration in balancing serious thought with a spirit of fun,” he said.

“Bernstein believed music is for everyone,” Slon added. “And we promise there’s something for everyone on our programs. We also hope that our Christmas show will inspire joy in our listeners, a joy that they can then go out and share with others this holiday season.”

Categories
Living

Admit one: Campus tours allow prospective students to test the university waters

My parents didn’t take me to visit any colleges when I was a teenager. I’m sure they would have, if I’d asked, but neither of them attended college, so it never occurred to my mom and dad that they should have a look-see at the place their first-born would spend her post-high school years.

In those pre-Internet days I did what research I could on my own, and I landed at a fine liberal arts university 45 minutes away from home. While there, I learned to write a decent newspaper story and met my best friend. But if I were issued a do-over, I’d spread my college net much wider.

Happily, I’ve been given something better: two daughters, the eldest of whom is a high school senior with good grades and test scores, and plenty of interests and talents. This encourages me—until I ask her what she wants to do with the rest of her life. “I’m only 16 years old,” she says. “How should I know?”

Besides, “one can’t know what one wants until one sees it,” Beth Kissileff wisely wrote in a recent New York Times column about shopping for colleges.

“I love to browse physical stores,” Kisseleff explained. “When a book catches my eye, I peruse the table of contents…this, I then realize, is what I must read next. The book wouldn’t have occurred to me until I saw it. When I am in a store, I can pick up an object, try on a piece of clothing to check the color, the feel of the fabric, and most importantly the fit.”

Mary Kwiatkowski toured several college campuses—James Madison University, William & Mary, and UVA, among others—before deciding that Virginia Tech was the school where she felt a true "sense of belonging." Photo: Christian Hommel
Mary Kwiatkowski toured several college campuses—James Madison University, William & Mary, and UVA, among others—before deciding that Virginia Tech was the school where she felt a true “sense of belonging.” Photo: Christian Hommel

When Mary Kwiatkowski, a Virginia Tech freshman who graduated from Albemarle High School last spring, was touring colleges, she sought “that feeling,” a sense of belonging. “It was an atmosphere thing,” she said, something you won’t find unless you visit a school. While on campuses, Kwiatkowski asked herself, “Could I live here? Will I fit in?” Because even if a school is right for you academically, “if you don’t feel like you belong, and you hate living there,” you won’t be happy. Or successful.

Gigi Davis, a career counselor in the guidance office at Charlottesville High School, agrees, which is why she thinks college visits are so necessary—and the more schools you see, the more you’ll realize how many “great options are out there,” she said. A double-’Hoo, Davis is obviously a fan of the University of Virginia, but she frequently reminds her students that UVA “is not the only game in town. Well, actually it is,” she said with a laugh, and then quickly added that Virginia Tech has a very strong engineering school; JMU’s computer science program is top-notch; and “if you have a clear sense that art is what you want, VCU is a great school.”

Davis advises her students to speak with many people when they take a campus tour. The admissions person and your student tour guide are “always going to be very enthusiastic, so it’s important to reach out to other people. Try to talk to a person or two or three in your [academic] area of interest. Reach out to people you know who have attended that school.” Signs posted on classroom doors at CHS let students know where the adult inside went to college, so “they can come talk to us,” Davis said.

Since my own daughter has no idea what she wants to study in college, I decided the least her father and I could do was help her find where she wants to study. Like Mary Kwiatkowski, my girl is after what one parent called “that ineffable moment when, through some alchemy of atmosphere, setting, or vibe” her gut tells her she’s found the place where she wants to live and learn. So we hit the road, and tried on seven campuses in four days to see how they fit. Here’s what we learned:

Information sessions are overrated. When you visit most colleges, you’ll attend an hour-long information session, followed by a student-led campus tour. If you’ve done your homework, you’ll already know many of the facts and figures the admissions person throws out—and then much of it will be repeated on the campus tour. Median SAT and ACT scores, as well as financial aid and scholarship information, are available on schools’ websites. The Department of Education has something called a FAFSA4caster, an online tool that estimates your eligibility for federal student aid.

Student tour guides are terrific.

They’re smart and funny, and they share loads of vital information and interesting anecdotes— all while walking backwards so they can see their audience. At William & Mary, our guide stopped in front of a bronze Thomas Jefferson statue that UVA gave to the college in 1992. He told us that TJ, a W&M alum, borrowed $24,000 from his alma mater in the 1800s to start the University of Virginia —and never paid it back. At the statue’s dedication, then-UVA president John Casteen said he hoped the gift would wipe the slate clean. A request was also made to have Jefferson face his true home: Charlottesville. Not only does the statue face away from C’ville, but some crafty William & Mary students figured out that the author of the Declaration of Independence looks directly into the ladies room in one of the dorms. “So you might call him the original Peeping Tom,” our tour guide said.

Just ask.

As CHS’s Davis said, questions are crucial—especially of students who are enrolled in the university you’re visiting. They’re the ones who will tell you how big the freshman seminars are, and if classes are taught by professors or teaching assistants. They know if professors are easily accessible, even during non-office hours. Ask the students if they like their classes, why they decided to attend this college, what their major is, and if there are research opportunities for undergrads. What about internships? When do you have to declare a major? What happens if you change your major? Do they feel connected to the town where the university is located? What do they do when they’re not attending class or studying?

It’s their path, not yours.

My daughter’s guidance counselor (and her father) reminds me of this all the time, and it was never more apparent than on our campus visits. I was dazzled at one university when a student told us that her professor recently won a Nobel Prize, which he brought to class so his students could see it and pass it around. Even better “were the people the professor had access to who came to speak to us,” she said. This barely registered with my daughter, who’s still talking about a science building’s wall of whiteboards where students frequently copy homework problems they’re struggling with, only to return later and find that someone else has solved them.

They’ll probably bloom where they’re planted. It’s good to have a first choice, a second choice, a fifth choice, and the all-important “safety school.” That said, several college students I know aren’t currently enrolled in their first (or second) choice.And they couldn’t be happier. Just ask them.

Categories
Arts

A broken elbow, snow days, and a $30,000 price tag: Behind the scenes of AHS’ Hello, Dolly!

It’s two days before opening night, and the Albemarle High School Players are taking a rare breather. Larry Johnson, a retired math teacher who’s been building sets at AHS since the current cast of Hello, Dolly! was in elementary school, is seated in a chair near the edge of the stage. Clad in an orange UVA t-shirt and khaki trousers, Johnson looks out at a rapt audience of 50 teenagers and begins the “magic speech,” which he delivers every year at this time.

“This is no ordinary place, no ordinary wood that you walk on,” he tells them. “It’s a place that contains magic. If I’d just seen it, I might not believe it, but I’ve experienced it…And I now understand that when a role takes you over, when you become who you portray, all of a sudden a play is not a play, which is the magic of this stage.”

Hello, Dolly! hopefuls sing, dance, and perform comedic monologues during February auditions for the spring musical at Albemarle High School. Photo: Elli Williams
Hello, Dolly! hopefuls sing, dance, and perform comedic monologues during February auditions for the spring musical at Albemarle High School. Photo: Elli Williams

You could see it as just another corny pep talk, but if you’re there, listening to Johnson and watching the students, your skin tingles.

I hadn’t been to a high school musical since Jimmy Carter was president, but in the spring of 2011 I found myself in the Albemarle High School auditorium for a Sunday matinee of Phantom of the Opera.

“Wow,” I thought when the curtain calls concluded. “That was amazing.”

Turns out I wasn’t the only one impressed by a bunch of adolescent thespians and their director. That summer, readers of this newspaper voted Phantom their favorite local play in Best of C-VILLE. The following year, the Albemarle Players earned another Best of C-VILLE award, this time for Fiddler on the Roof. When I heard the troupe was putting up Hello, Dolly!—one of my all-time favorite musicals—I told my editor I wanted to write about it—from auditions to opening night.

So I was back in the AHS auditorium in January, this time surrounded by several dozen students who’d stayed after school for an audition workshop. I was about to introduce myself to one of them when conversation abruptly ceased, and all eyes turned to a side door in the front of the auditorium. Fay Cunningham, the longtime head of the drama department, had arrived. I met Cunningham for the first time a couple weeks earlier on a dreary morning when I cut out of work to watch her Drama IV students perform their final exam, a scene from Thornton Wilder’s The Matchmaker, which Hello, Dolly! is based on. Then, now, and during the months to come, I often heard Cunningham before I saw her, thanks to her laugh—an extended squeal of delight, followed by a bark-like “ha!”

Just over 5′ tall with rectangular glasses, and a tangle of strawberry-blonde hair, Cunningham is savvy in the way of someone who’s spent decades working with—and not taking crap from—young people. She’s fond of long skirts and scarves, and favors bright colors—pinks and greens in particular. After introducing herself to me that first morning, Cunningham apologized because she’d mixed up her dates. The exam was yesterday, she said, but “come back next Monday afternoon when my Drama II students are performing.” It wasn’t a request.

No detail is too small for assistant director Austen Weathersby. Photo: Justin Ide
No detail is too small for assistant director Austen Weathersby. Photo: Justin Ide

“Fay is fierce,” one parent told me when I mentioned last winter that I was writing this story. I wasn’t sure what he meant by “fierce,” but after four months watching Cunningham tirelessly and generously interact with teenage singers, dancers, and actors, as well as other teachers and parents, I now know he meant that it takes a certain tenacity to turn a high school production into something spectacular. Or, as Cunningham put it: “We don’t do high school theater here. We aim for professional theater.”

Before telling the students gathered for the workshop what they’d be in for when Hello, Dolly! auditions began the following week, Cunningham explained that the show opened January 16, 1964 at the St. James Theater in New York with Carol Channing in the role of Dolly. It earned 10 Tony Awards, including best musical.

While Cunningham talked, I studied the kids: Which one of you is Dolly, I wondered as I looked over the girls, who outnumbered the boys by about two to one. What about Irene Malloy? Who is a Horace Vandergelder, played by Walter Matthau in the 1969 film version, which starred Barbra Streisand as Dolly? Mostly, though, I was curious to see if they were talented enough to turn back the clock to 1890s Yonkers, New York, and make me believe them when they shouted lines like “Holy cabooses!” or sang “It only, takes a moment, to be loved a whole life long…”

“It all starts next week, ladies and gentlemen,” Cunningham said. “The role you get depends on how you act, sing, and dance, and how you work as a group.” By the end of audition week, “I’ll know who the whiners are and who will hang in there. If you want it—and you’re thirsty for it and hungry for it—you’ll be here, performing for 700 or 800 people. But you gotta work for it.”

And then Cunningham turned the floor over to Jennifer Morris, the AHS Players’ vocal director for 21 years. Sometimes the good cop to Cunningham’s bad cop, JMo, as her students affectionately call her, told the kids that “before you utter a word of the script we’ll get a chance to know your singing voices—we will hear what kind of voice you have, how loud, how confidently you sing, what your range is. Wanting a role in a musical, and having the capability to sing that role don’t always go together.”

Added Cunningham: “You have to understand that what you might want, or how you perceive yourself, isn’t always the best thing for that part. The chemistry of the actors or the blend of the voices may not be right. I don’t pay attention if someone’s fat or thin or young or old. A few years ago, I cast a black-haired, Puerto Rican girl as Annie. I didn’t dye her hair red or put a wig on her. We played her for who she was. There is room for everyone in this show.”

Categories
Living

C-VILLE Kids: Behind the wheel with a new driver and her nervous mother

“You allowed her to drive home from the DMV?” my shocked friend asked me outside the high school that our daughters both attend. “They all want to, but nobody actually lets them. Are you crazy?”

That’s precisely what I asked myself on a sunny March afternoon when, spanking new driver’s permit tucked into the glovebox, my daughter repeatedly stalled our manual transmission Subaru at the bottom of a 250 Bypass exit. One green light. A second green light. Finally, as the third green light turned yellow, my girl ground the Forester into first, and made the turn onto Barracks Road. (To the credit of a lengthening line of Charlottesville commuters, nobody laid on his horn. Not for an extended period, anyway.)

From the moment you lay eyes on your newborn, you wonder, “How do I keep her safe?” (I remember high-fiving my husband at our daughter’s first birthday party because, after 12 months, she was alive and relatively undamaged.) Now, having been in the Mom Business for a decade and a half, I thought I knew from scared: A slow-motion roll off a queen-sized bed as a baby; a broken arm as a middle-schooler; years spent jumping horses over fences of ever-increasing heights. But not until I handed my car keys to a 15-year-old did I know the true meaning of fear.

To combat my panic, I briefly considered turning all driver education responsibilities over to her father, a kind, patient, and calm man. Also a man who travels frequently for work, though, so one Sunday afternoon, when Central Virginia was at its flowering spring best, my daughter slid behind the wheel. She adjusted her seat and mirrors, released the emergency brake, and we rolled out Buck Mountain Road in the direction of Free Union. We had two goals that day: Master a stick shift (hers), and don’t say anything you’ll regret for too many years (mine).

Four hours, dozens of miles, and a bazillion stomps on the invisible passenger-side brake later, we pulled back into the driveway. I wouldn’t call it a delightful bonding experience, but it certainly wasn’t the worst chunk of time the two of us have put in together. Learning to drive a manual transmission car is difficult and frustrating, but—aside from the potential-for-death factor—it’s no different from anything else: To get good at it, you have to practice. After a while, you figure out how to time the clutch with the gas pedal—and not to confuse either one with the brake. You learn to start on a hill and yield when turning left on green. You become wary of large cars that seem to be piloted by headless drivers, and unpredictable children in Harris Teeter parking lots. You check the gas gauge before it’s too late. And, as my daughter will attest, you ignore all distractions. Especially the anxious 50-year-old one riding shotgun.

Categories
Living

C-VILLE Kids! Book deal: Must-reads for 6- to 9-year-olds

(File photo)

I spent most of the summer between fourth and fifth grades in the Long Lake public library. It was hot in Minnesota that year, and the library was one of the few air-conditioned buildings I got to visit. The librarian, who played bridge with my mother, was quite good at suggesting books I’d enjoy. What follows are a few of my own.

Astrid Lindgren’s Pippi Longstocking is a favorite because, seriously, what 9-year-old can resist something that opens: “Way out at the end of a tiny little town was an overgrown garden, and in the garden was an old house, and in the house lived Pippi Longstocking…she lived there all alone…and that was of course very nice because there was no one to tell her to go to bed just when she was having the most fun…”?

From the locals
Here are two more books that were recently released by local authors.

For mom: Jessie Knadler’s Rurally Screwed: My Life Off the Grid With the Cowboy I Love is a true-life love story about the author, a former New York City magazine editor who abandoned her Manhattan life to live in the country with Jake, a Republican bull rider.

For little one: Marcie Gibbons’ Hawk & Crow: Collision in the Sky tells the tale of an unlikely friendship between two birds that are enemies in the real world. In Gibbons’ 46-page world, however, the “collision of Hamilton Hawk and Bo Crow provides the opportunity for them to get acquainted,” the retired Nelson County school teacher said. As well as show children that “a friend can be anyone, so look and see. Someone in the room is a possibility.”—S.S.

Another can’t-miss for children ages 6 to 9 years old is The Stinky Cheese Man and other Fairly Stupid Tales, Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith’s hilarious and sarcastic take on familiar stories. In one chapter, Jack accuses the giant of “wrecking my whole story,” and suggests that he “climb back up the beanstalk. I’ll be up in a few minutes to steal your gold and your singing harp.”

For kids (and parents) who’re after something on the sweeter side, you can’t go wrong with frog and toad. Specifically, Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad Are Friends, an I Can Read chapter book that chronicles the adventures of two amphibian pals who help one another with a variety of everyday tasks, including getting out of bed, waiting for mail, finding a lost button, and—toughest of all, if you ask me—appearing publicly in a swimsuit.

Finally, there’s Kevin Henkes’ irresistible Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse, a colorfully told (and illustrated) tale of a mouse-girl who loves fish sticks, pointy pencils, and the clickety-clickety-click sound her boots make as she struts down the hallway. And don’t even get me started on the Monday morning when Lilly shows up for school with a new pair of movie star sunglasses, three shiny quarters, and “a brand new purple plastic purse that played a jaunty tune when it was opened.” Admit it, people: We’d all be better off with noisy red boots, rhinestone-encrusted sunglasses, and a jaunty tune on demand.

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News

Graduates head to colleges thanks to the I Have A Dream Foundation

National Honor Society member Joey Wright will study electrical engineering at Old Dominion University in the fall. (Photo by Nick Strocchia)

If you saw Joey Wright on the Downtown Mall, you probably wouldn’t give him a second look. Just shy of 6′-tall, brown-haired, and wearing the ubiquitous teenage uniform of jeans and a North Face fleece, Wright looks like any other 18-year-old. Take the time to engage him in conversation, and you’d be impressed by his good manners. “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a slight Southern accent when asked if he’s excited about graduating from Charlottesville High School next month. A football and lacrosse player, Wright is a National Honor Society member who smiles frequently and easily and looks you in the eye when he says he’s going to study electrical engineering at Old Dominion University in the fall. What you wouldn’t see is that Joey Wright’s entire life has been a financial struggle.

He lives with his mother, a waitress who earns $2.13 an hour before tips. The pair is close, but he also has a good relationship with his father, an employee at Portsmouth’s Naval Shipyard, where Wright hopes to find a job one day.

This coming weekend, Joey Wright will collect on a promise made to him 12 years ago when, in the fall of 2000, local businessmen Chris Poe and Jeff Gaffney “adopted” Wright—and every other member of his kindergarten class at Belmont’s Clark Elementary School.

Through the I Have a Dream Foundation of Charlottesville, Poe and Gaffney pledged to provide Wright and his classmates with the tools—tutoring, mentoring, counseling, summer school, camps, and enrichment classes—to help them graduate from high school. Students who earned diplomas, said Poe and Gaffney, would be guaranteed the equivalent of in-state public school tuition (currently about $12,000 per year) so they could attend a college, university, or an accredited vocational school.

“It still hasn’t completely set in,” said Wright, who went four-for-four in college acceptance letters. It also hasn’t been easy, but he knew the moment the first “big envelope” arrived in the mail that “it’s been worth it.”

Wright and 45 of his co-“dreamers” will graduate from high school in the coming weeks. Five more are working on GEDs, while another five, who repeated first grade, are on track to graduate next year. Four other students finished high school a year early. All but two of the 62 dreamers will receive a high school diploma in the next year. Compare that to the state graduation average (89.9 percent), and the graduation rate of those whom the Virginia Department of Education deems “economically disadvantaged [high school] completers” (81.8 percent). Ninety-three percent of the dreamers will pursue some type of post-high school education.

Birth of a dream
Chris Poe wasn’t much older than Joey Wright when he was home from college one weekend, and half paying attention to an installment of the long-running CBS newsmagazine “60 Minutes.” When a piece about New York City entrepreneur Eugene Lange, who started the national I Have a Dream Foundation, came on, Poe perked up. “He’s on to something,” Poe thought when he learned that Lange, during a 1981 speech, spontaneously promised a class of poor, Harlem sixth-graders college tuition if they stayed in school and graduated. At the time of the broadcast, Poe “didn’t have two nickels to rub together,” but he filed the information away, hoping to “one day be in a position to try to pull something like that off.”

Fast forward several years, and Poe, now married, a father, and a financial advisor at Northwestern Mutual, began surveying friends, community members, and educators about Charlottesville schools where the children were most in need. Every single person, he recalled, said Clark Elementary, which in the late 1990s—prior to the Belmont housing and restaurant boom—had the highest concentration of poverty in the city, with about 80 percent of its students receiving free or reduced-cost lunches. But before he ran his idea past a single public school official, Poe did some homework of his own, and spent the better part of a year “vetting” the I Have a Dream Foundation. “If I was hitching my wagon [to it], I wanted to make sure it was on the up-and-up and good people were involved.”

In early 2000, Poe made his pitch to then-City Schools Superintendent Bill Symons, who didn’t waste any time in bringing the plan to Art Stow, the principal at Clark.

“My initial reaction was that this is too good to be true,” Stow recalled. And then he thought: “What’s the catch?”

But, he said, “I trusted my superintendent,” who was comfortable with Poe and his vision for I Have a Dream Charlottesville. Good thing, because Stow, now Red Hill Elementary’s principal, had a son, Ethan, in the kindergarten class that was about to be offered the deal of a lifetime.

“It was a miracle,” said Stow, who gets choked up at the memory. “I knew the families so well, and knew that they, like every other family, love and adore their children.” The program gave those families both hope and opportunity, Stow said.

Jeff Gaffney (left) and Chris Poe are about to make good on their promise to pay for the college education of an entire class of Clark Elementary School Students. (Photo by John Robinson)

Once he’d decided on an elementary school, Poe’s next step was to find a partner. Enter Jeff Gaffney, the current chairman and CEO of Real Estate III, who at the 1999 National Association of Realtors convention heard Colin Powell speak about the “importance of business people getting involved in the lives of at-risk youth in the towns and villages where they lived,” Gaffney said. “I was really motivated by that message. It stuck with me, and when I came back to Charlottesville, I started looking around for places where I could help.” A month later, he heard Poe on WINA radio talking about his recently launched I Have a Dream program.

Gaffney, 47 and the father of four, called Poe to tell him he liked what he was doing. Then he asked how he could help. “I thought I could be a board member or something,” he said. But Poe had other ideas. “He put his arm around me and said: ‘We’re going to do this together,’” Gaffney recalled.

That is how, shortly before the start of the 2000-2001 academic year, Gaffney and Poe found themselves calling or visiting the homes of dozens of strangers. Since most of the dreamer families didn’t own computers, it fell to the pair to make telephone or in-person contact to let everyone know about the first I Have a Dream informational meeting, which ultimately attracted 11 people, representing seven or eight dreamers. The parents were dubious.

“They were naturally skeptical. I’m sure they didn’t believe us, and they assumed that after a year or two we were going to leave town,” Poe said.

“Are you kidding me? What do you mean, you’re going to pay for my son to attend college?” was what Maria Rice, Joey Wright’s mother, thought when she heard about I Have a Dream Charlottesville.

Like Principal Stow, she initially considered the offer too good to be true. A single parent whose son has long witnessed her struggle financially, Rice’s voice began to shake, and she was overcome by tears when she recalled, years later, that the two men were dead serious when they made their offer, which has been funded over the years through mostly individual donations, as well as money from the Geismar Family Foundation, United Way of the Thomas Jefferson Area, the Charlottesville Area Community Foundation, the Junior League of Charlottesville, and Bama Works.

“Jeff and I have never had limitless resources, and we were never able to write a $2 million check,” said Poe, who recently turned 48 years old. “We’re just two working guys who have to get up every day”; two guys who had to “beg, borrow, and steal” to support their vision. They haven’t done it entirely on their own, though. “A community of people; a ton of them” have written checks—including some for six-figures—and volunteered their time over the years.

When the program was newly up and running, thanks in large part to a $175,000 grant from Toyota’s U.S.A. Foundation that came after “some creative marketing” was used to convince the organization that Charlottesville is a Washington, D.C., suburb, Poe and Gaffney decided to schedule another parent meeting. This time there was food. And a moon bounce, face painters, and a clown.

“If we could get the kids to come, the parents would come too,” Poe said. The family parties continued over the years, and at each event “we would explain what we were doing, and slowly but surely, they began to trust us. Second grade, third grade, fourth grade, we kept coming back.” When there was a transition—Beth Shapiro, the project’s original coordinator moved, and Erica Lloyd came on board—“we were still around.”

“Sit down with people and break bread, and they eventually come to realize that you’re not a snake oil salesman; that you’re not doing something crazy; that you’re going to do it every day for 12 years,” Gaffney said.

It took a while for that to sink in, he said, but over time not only did the pair convince dreamer parents of their sincerity, they also sold grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. “Extended families would come to the parties, and we’d eat and have amazing conversations and get to know each other.”

The real turning point occurred at a Pantops steakhouse gathering when the kids were in middle school. As Poe updated the parents on the status of their children’s college accounts, “one hand shot up,” he said, and a mother demanded to know exactly how the money was being invested. At first, the successful financial advisor was stunned by the question.
“But I thought about it for two seconds, and realized that it was a great, transitional moment,” he said. “They were now invested in the outcome of the program and wanted to know what was happening. It was kind of an ‘aha’ moment for us and for the parents. They were finally believing.”

Jesse Watson wants to return to Charlottesville and run his own company after he receives an accounting degree from Ferrum College. (Photo by John Robinson)

Reality check
As they got older, dreamers like Charlottesville High School senior Jesse Watson began to believe too. Compactly built with a cautious attitude and a sparkly stud in his ear, Watson said the longer he was in the program, the more he came to appreciate the opportunity.
“It was a chance to better myself. When I knew I’d have help, I actually wanted to go to college,” he said. He also knew he had to “do the homework. And steer clear of trouble.”
An admitted loner who “was kind of slack,” Watson will attend Ferrum College near Roanoke in the fall. He has a dazzling smile, which is on full display when he talks about being the first person in his family to attend college. But he’s quick to share credit for his success with Erica Lloyd who, straight out of UVA’s Curry School of Education, became I Have a Dream Charlottesville’s coordinator in 2002.

“Ms. Lloyd is like a ninja in the trees, watching everybody,” said Watson. She keeps close track of all her dreamers—both in and out of school.

Lloyd, 31, can be found most days behind an always-open yellow door in a large, bright space in the Charlottesville High School library. An entire wall of her office is papered with dreamer college acceptance letters from places like Boston’s Berklee College of Music, George Mason University, Virginia Tech, James Madison University, Virginia Commonwealth University, Lynchburg College, and Virginia State University, to name a few. Over the past decade, she’s worked closely with teachers and staff at Clark, Walker, Buford, and Charlottesville High schools, among others, to assure the dreamers’ success. She’s taken the group on college visits and field trips, and exposed them to successful first-generation university students. She’s in continuous contact with every dreamer’s family, and has made certain each student has received academic support. She’s helped them explore potential careers by teaming them up with real-world mentors. Every student has participated in self-esteem and “healthy habits” seminars, and they have given hundreds of hours back to the community by volunteering at a variety of organizations, including the PB&J Fund, Charlottesville-Albemarle SPCA, the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank, the Alzheimer’s Association, and the Barrett Early Learning Center.

“She definitely kept us on track more than anyone,” Joey Wright said. “She was always in school, always checking in, saying ‘I see you’re getting this grade’ or answering any questions we had. My parents didn’t go to college, and you can only get so much information from Googling, so she was more helpful than anyone.”

After she graduates from college, Amanda Lawhorne hopes to becomes a special education teacher because those students “are closer to God,” she said. (Photo by John Robinson)

Amanda Lawhorne, another senior dreamer, will attend Piedmont Virginia Community College in the fall. Earlier this year, when she began having anxiety attacks and missed several weeks of school, Lawhorne was tempted to drop out and forget about one day becoming a special education teacher. Lloyd, however, delivered her homework and issued pep talks. “I had a rough year, and I know I would have quit school without her,” Lawhorne said. “Ms. Lloyd told me [catching up] would be hard, but I could do it. She’s always made me feel special because she was always there to support me.”

Despite that support, Lloyd admits that the road to graduation has had some bumps. “Everything will be going according to plan, and then something blows up,” she said. “There have been health issues and family issues that have threatened [the students’] ability to continue in school. Every kid has had his own journey; nobody’s sailed straight through. Being a teenager is hard, and some of these kids have made some bad choices.” The bumps in the road have included an arrest for shoplifting, an unplanned pregnancy, and one student who “felt he didn’t deserve to be a dreamer.”

But, as Lloyd says again and again, “Once a dreamer, always a dreamer,” meaning the students cannot be kicked out of the program. No. Matter. What. Because of this, when a kid messes up, Lloyd sees it as her job to help him recognize that there’s value in coming back from it, and to not compound the error and spiral down and down. It is why she refuses to give up on the two dreamers who are currently MIA, and why she continues to try to convince them to resume their studies so they can get a high school diploma. In some ways, it’s her presence and her attitude that have had the single most lasting effect on the dreamers.

“What I do isn’t rocket science,” she said. “It’s just walking alongside of these kids and being involved in their lives.” Lloyd—and the program—remind them “they have a valuable future.”

With many of her dreamers leaving CHS, as well as high schools in Albemarle, Fluvanna, Orange, Louisa, Buckingham, Cumberland, Waynesboro, Prince William, North Carolina, and Hawaii, the obvious question is: What’s next?

“Keeping them in college,” Lloyd answered. “Eighty-nine percent of low-income kids drop out of college in the first year, so we need to make sure our kids are plugged in to the support networks that exist on campus. They have to build that community that they’re going to study with and that will hold them accountable.”

Many of her students, she said shaking her head and smiling, are worried about what will happen to her. “They want to marry me off so I can have babies, but I tell them I’m going to keep track of them. I’ll make a lot of college visits, and I’ll take them out for real dinners.”
As for I Have a Dream Charlottesville’s future, Poe said that for all the program’s success, he and Gaffney will feel “on some level like a little bit of a failure if we don’t replicate ourselves. We’re not going to sponsor another class, but I will forever be an ambassador and a strong advocate for this program.” There is a fundraising donor base in place, and “we will help anyone—individually or collectively—who’s willing to adopt a class,” Poe said.

“We want to make sure this is sustainable, and not something that’s come and gone,” Gaffney added. “We want to find a way to pass the torch. We’ve got the infrastructure, and we’ve paved the way, and now we’re hoping and praying that somebody else will step up and continue what we started.”

On the shelves in Erica Lloyd’s office are 62 white binders. Each one is labeled with the name of a Clark Elementary School kindergartener who in 2000 probably didn’t understand what the term “college educated” meant. Over the years, they’ve all become intimately familiar with those two words. Lloyd has made sure they ring in their heads, alongside 13 words penned by author Robert Collier that she printed out long ago, and hung on her wall as a constant reminder: “Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out.”

Erica Lloyd talks about the I Have a Dream Foundation of Charlottesville by C-Ville Weekly on Mixcloud

Categories
News

Safe Schools initiative assesses bullying problem in local schools; hot button issue sparks national debate

 

(Illustration by Dongyun Lee)

Thirteen-year-old Alexis is a talented singer who reads at an 11th grade
level. She says she wants to go to college and then law school, so she can become a lawyer and “defend people who can’t defend themselves.” Her mother, Samantha, makes sure she frequently tells her daughter that she is both smart and beautiful. But Alexis, a seventh-grader at Buford Middle School, pays more attention to what others say about her. And lots of it is ugly.

“This year has been really hard,” her mom said. “One of the kids’ favorite things to call her is ‘blackneck’ because the pigmentation on her neck is dark. Some nights, Alexis scrubs her neck so hard in the shower that it turns beet red, even though I tell her, ‘That’s your skin tone. You can’t wash that off.’”

According to Samantha, Alexis has been kicked, pushed, and hit while at school. Other students have splashed her with water in the bathroom and many have called her names. After Alexis’ father died in November, the “dead daddy” jokes started, she said, and haven’t stopped.

Were it not for a Buford guidance counselor—“a godsend,” Samantha calls her—who has an open-door policy and is available to Alexis whenever she needs to talk, Samantha’s not sure how her daughter would make it through the school day.

“Being part of the choir has helped a little bit because she gets complimented about her voice. But Alexis is really defensive a lot of the time; she thinks nobody likes her…She has a couple friends, and sometimes they take up for her [when the taunting starts], but a lot of times they are quiet. Or they join in. And then they’re nice to her the next day.”

I’ll be 50 years old this summer, and I still haven’t entirely recovered from a pack of middle school mean girls who made me doubt everything from the brand of jeans I wore to the grape jelly I smeared on my daily PB&J sandwich. Thirty-eight years later, I remember the names of every one of those girls. What I don’t recall, is a single newspaper article or television report about the repercussions of bullying. Nobody talked about a Phoebe Prince or a Tyler Clemente or a Lexi Pilkington, students who have made headlines in recent years when they killed themselves after being pushed to the brink by the brutality of others. In 1974, President Ford was more interested in promoting his “Whip Inflation Now” campaign than in hosting a conference on bullying prevention like the one introduced at the White House in early March by President and Mrs. Obama.

Bully, a recently released documentary that made headlines after it received an R-rating for language, examines the effects of bullying on five different children. (The Weinstein Company)

Bully pulpit
“Have you heard about the group of girls who are being so awful to everyone?” a mother asked me during a sixth-grade volleyball game last month. At a dinner party the following week, a teacher told me that the behavior in an elementary school class had so deteriorated that a high school coach was called in to speak to the students about the importance of working together, about cheering for one another and not rooting for others to fail.

In his review of Bully—a just-released and much-hyped film—New York Times critic A. O. Scott said the “moving and troubling documentary about the misery some children inflict upon others, arrives at a moment when bullying, long tolerated as a fact of life, is being redefined as a social problem.” Yet a March 12 Time magazine article claimed “as painful as bullying can be, and as horrible as its victims’ scars may be, research suggests that the talk of an epidemic may be exaggerated.”

Who’s right? Do we all need to take a deep breath, calm down, and just let “kids be kids”? Or are we really in the thick of a bullying epidemic?

To help figure this out, Albemarle-Charlottesville Safe Schools/Healthy Students administers an annual Peer Support Survey, which allows students in grades four through 12 to anonymously write down the names of those who are possible bullying victims. Counselors talk to children whose names appear multiple times, in hopes of determining if intervention or assistance is needed. By conducting this survey in the fall, “the schools and SS/HS hope to identify students in any potentially harmful situations before [too much of] the school year has gone by,” said Lois Wallenhorst, project coordinator for Safe Schools.

Each spring, the organization also “seeks information about many factors that can affect students’ school performance,” including school safety, relationships with peers, substance abuse, and other risk behaviors, Wallenhorst said. Bullying, according to the survey, is “the use of one’s strength or popularity to injure, threaten, or embarrass another person. Bullying can be physical, verbal, or social. It is not bullying when two students of about the same strength argue or fight.”

After reading that definition, students are asked whether they have been bullied in the past month “never,” “once or twice,” “about once per week” or “several times per week.” In addition, they are questioned about physical, verbal, social, and cyber bullying, as well as where bullying has taken place and whether they have reported it to anyone.

June Jenkins, Albemarle-Charlottesville project director for Safe Schools, said bullying peaks in the late elementary and early middle school years because “as kids mature and develop, anything that’s different can become a target. Size, shape, clothes, mannerisms…anything.” One of the best ways to combat it is for parents to “have a conversation with your children before it happens,” and to be on the lookout “for changes like a drop in grades; a change in attitude; not wanting to do things they used to enjoy; a refusal to ride the school bus. Talk to them. Ask them specific questions…who they sat with at lunch, who they played with during recess.”

According to Jenkins, grown-up supervision should be increased at this age since “typically, bullying happens when adults aren’t around,” which means it often falls to other children to report the abuse. Friends are important because they are frequently the ones who ask for help, and kids need to be taught the difference between snitching and seeking assistance. Self-confidence is another key to bullying prevention. It is “a great shield,” Jenkins added. Confident students are “very comfortable with themselves,” which is unappealing to bullies. Those children are also often “the bystanders who will stand up and defend others; they will know that they should do something to help and protect” a child who is being picked on.
Ignoring a bully may work too because bullies “look for an audience,” Jenkins said. If kids walk away, they aren’t giving the bully the attention or the satisfaction. It’s no longer cool.
The anti-bullying initiatives of organizations like Safe Schools, which was started in 2009 with a four-year, $5.8 million government grant, combined with heightened attention in schools, homes, and the media, may explain a SS/HS report that showed over a two-year period (spring 2009 to spring 2011) the number of students who claim they were bullied at least once in the past 30 days dropped 22 percent in high schools, 16 percent in middle schools, and 6 percent in elementary schools. But the report also indicated that 34 percent of elementary school students, 28 percent of middle school students, and 18 percent of high school students said they had been bullied.

 

“We want our students to want to come to school,” said Victoria Megginson, a teacher and the anti-bullying coordinator at Jack Jouett. (Photo by John Robinson)

Net flicks
It’s an unseasonably warm Monday in March, and Jack Jouett Middle School principal Kathryn Baylor is pissed off. A fight broke out earlier in the afternoon, and Baylor has just come from an impromptu meeting with the irate mother of one of the children involved in the contretemps. But it’s not the fight—or even a livid, shouting parent—that’s rattled Baylor. She’s angry with the students who didn’t look for an adult to intervene and put a stop to the dust-up. Instead, they watched, cheered, and recorded the incident on their cell phones. And then, quicker than anyone could say “Friend me,” they posted it on Facebook, where it immediately received dozens of “Likes.”

Baylor demanded that the episode be removed from Facebook, which, to her relief, it was. “These are good kids, but all the Internet stuff has taken up most of our worlds now,” she said, looking down at her new silver Apple computer that she admitted she’s still figuring out.
According to a recent Associated Press-MTV poll on Internet behavior, more than half of 1,355 teenagers and young adults surveyed (56 percent) said they have been harassed or bullied online. That’s up from 50 percent in 2009.

“The tools are so different now,” Jenkins admitted. “When we were kids we could get away from it. Now it can follow children into their homes and their bedrooms.” Added Wallenhorst: “Those situations can have a lasting impact on kids’ feelings about school, their self-esteem and worth, not to mention their ability to achieve and be successful at school.”

As part of the It Gets Better Project, a nationwide anti-bullying campaign, the University of Virginia’s Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) Resource Center is using the Internet in a positive way with a four-and-a-half minute video in which older students and UVA faculty remind younger kids that their lives really will improve. “High school and middle school are pretty tough to deal with for pretty much everybody,” University of Virginia freshman Joe Leonard says on the video. “But it’s even harder if you’re a member of the LGBT community…You think [the abuse] is going to go on forever, but it’s not” he promised, thanks to the resources at places like UVA, and the awareness of its faculty, staff, and students.

“The older we get, the better and the stronger we get,” said Ed Warwick, coordinator of the University’s LGBT Resource Center, which has held panels at Charlottesville, Fluvanna, and Tandem schools, among others, aimed at helping teachers and guidance counselors be “supportive of people on their journey of development.” Warwick admitted that the It Gets Better video may not change everyone’s life, “but if a high school student finds it, and she feels better on a bad night” then it’s done its job. Bullying isn’t just being pushed or called a name, and it doesn’t go away—even when you’re an adult, he said. “But it’s important to not feel afraid to ask for help. If folks aren’t reporting these things, then how can we help? We all have the responsibility to make things better.”

 

According to Jack Jouett Middle School Assistant Principal Steve Saunders, bullying is often “overt,” but not always as obvious as other behaviors, which “can be a tough thing for an 11-year-old to figure out.” (Photo by John Robinson)

Point of access
“My nightmare scenario is one in which we don’t get to a student in time after we’ve heard about a suspected bullying incident, and then the bullying continues, and the student ends up feeling less empowered,” said Steve Saunders, Jack Jouett Middle School assistant principal. “The student had a voice, he or she tried to get help from an adult, but then nothing happened. That’s a devastating scenario.”

The key to preventing this, Saunders said, is “multiple access points,” meaning a student might feel comfortable first talking to the school nurse or a bus driver or a teacher or a coach. Somebody who will then give that information to administrators and/or school counselors who are trained to deal with the problem, and who can pursue it further and work with both the victim and the bully. “This is particularly important with suspected incidents of bullying because it allows [school officials] to track patterns of behavior,” he said.
But “discipline in middle school is often gray,” Saunders added. “Bullying can sometimes be very overt, but sometimes it is not as obvious as other behaviors.” Hitting someone “is certainly mean—and unacceptable—but it may not necessarily be bullying. That can be a tough thing for an 11-year-old to figure out. At the end of the day, our job is to teach students the skills to handle these situations responsibly.”

Victoria Megginson, a language arts teacher and Jouett’s anti-bullying coordinator, recalled a recent effective and eye-opening moment when Deputy Commonwealth’s Attorney Darby Lowe spoke to students about the legal consequences of bullying. Students learned from Lowe that some of the actions they think are a joke—threatening language or texts or e-mails—could land them in a heap of trouble.

Jack Jouett Middle School is “a good place to be,” Megginson said. “We as teachers are happy to be here, and, for the most part, the kids are too. But we’re always looking for things we can do to make our kids feel comfortable. We want them to want to come to school.”

“We’re not perfect,” Saunders added. “You can have all of the structure in place and be proactive, but you certainly can’t predict or control everything.” Sometimes, “we miss things and we make mistakes. But if a really reticent sixth-grader is being bullied and he knows he can trust somebody, that there’s somebody at school who will help him, and we encourage him to share with an adult what is happening…then we can work with him and we can address the problem in an appropriate way. After that, usually the bullying will stop, and the victim knows that he stood up for himself.”

Seventh-grade Alexis tries to stand up for herself every day, according to her mother, who said she has no idea why her daughter first became a target a couple years ago, while a student at Walker Upper Elementary School. Samantha initially “thought this was a phase, and it would stop, but it hasn’t. I’ve gone through a lot of guilt about not doing enough to help my daughter. I’ve cried because I don’t know how to help her.”

Alexis said she struggles to understand why some of her peers “think it is O.K. to pick other people apart. They go home and forget about the mean things they say and do, but I think about them all night and dread the next day and what’s to come.” But like the students in the UVA video, Alexis said she knows “it will get better.”

Maybe as soon as next fall, when she’ll attend a different middle school. In the meantime, her mother continues to “constantly remind her that ‘you can’t let [the bullies] win.’ I tell her to focus on her school work; that someday she will be someone, and that will be the best revenge.”

Categories
Living

C-VILLE Kids! Book ’em: Five favorite for 2- to 5-year-olds

The two toddlers I used to read to have grown into a middle- and a high-schooler. They read quite well now, and frequently, but on their own—and often from a screen. So when they recently noticed me studying the shelves that hold their childhood books, I was thrilled they agreed to assist in my search for five favorites for children ages 2 to 5 years old. Here’s what we came up with.

The first to receive an enthusiastic “yes!” was Goodnight Moon, Margaret Wise Brown’s 1947 classic, illustrated by Clement Hurd. From the looks of its tattered pages, we read Goodnight Moon “at least 5,000 times,” my 11-year-old said. It’s a perfect bedtime story, complete with simple but colorful illustrations and calming sentences—“Goodnight stars/Goodnight air/Goodnight noises everywhere”—that lull little ones to sleep.

Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, a lively, rhyming alphabet book by Bill Martin, Jr. and John Archambault, and illustrated by Lois Ehlert, is anything but quiet. Which is one reason it’s fondly remembered—and still enthusiastically recited—in our house: “M is looped. N is stooped. O is twisted alley-oop. Skit skat skoodle doot. Flip flop flee. Look who’s coming! It’s black-eyed P.”

Laura Numeroff’s If You Give a Pig a Pancake warns that “If you give a pig a pancake, she’ll want some syrup to go with it. You’ll give her some of your favorite maple syrup. She’ll probably get all sticky, so she’ll want to take a bath.” And a couple dozen Felicia Bond-illustrated, adventure-filled pages later: “When she hangs the wallpaper, she’ll get all sticky. Feeling sticky will remind her of your favorite maple syrup. She’ll probably ask you for some. And chances are, if she asks you for some syrup, she’ll want a pancake to go with it.”

Good Night, Gorilla, written and illustrated by Peggy Rathmann, is a clever, 12-word tale of a mischievous zoo gorilla who lifts the keys from a night zookeeper. As he makes his rounds, saying good night to an elephant, a lion, a giraffe, and an armadillo, the gorilla follows quietly behind, unlocking everyone’s cage. The animals, including a banana-toting mouse, trail the zookeeper home and into bed with Mrs. Zookeeper, who naturally puts things right. Sort of.

No children’s book list would be complete without a Dr. Seuss. It took some thought—Green Eggs and Ham?; One fish two fish red fish blue fish?; Hop on Pop? After much back-and-forth, my daughters and I agreed on The Cat in the Hat. For 22 very good reasons: “I know it is wet and the sun is not sunny. But we can have lots of good fun that is funny!