A
Rude Awakening
Program teaches students in Virginia to resist
bullying and violence.
by S. Mitra Kalita, Washington Post, March 24, 2004
For more articles like this
visit
https://www.bridges4kids.org.
Lilly Ware Dunn,
a sophomore, knew that Brad Workman, her friend's boyfriend and
a senior, didn't like her. She just didn't know why.
Still, they would pass each other in the hallways of George C.
Marshall High School in Falls Church and exchange smiles.
"Fake smiles," Dunn, 15, pointed out. And she'd ask herself:
"Why does he have a problem with me?"
Yesterday Workman, 18, confessed the culprit: "That voice."
And then he apologized.
They hugged in the middle of Marshall's auxiliary gym as about
100 students and 20 adults applauded and reached for tissues. It
was one of hundreds of hugs shared yesterday as Marshall held
its first Challenge Day, a program geared toward combating
bullying, stereotyping and, ultimately, violence in schools.
Curriculums devoted to teaching children to be nice to each
other are gaining popularity across the Washington area, under
headings such as "ethics days," "honor days" and "character
education days." In Virginia, schools are required to include a
component aimed at producing "civic-minded students of high
character," and students in Maryland must perform 75 hours of
community service to graduate. Dozens of District schools are
rolling out programs on how to be a good person. Although
eye-rolling students tend to dismiss such efforts as "cheesy" or
"touchy-feely," the lessons imparted at Marshall yesterday
seemed to resonate loudly and immediately. During an afternoon
session, facilitators with wireless microphones tried to keep up
with the teenagers coming forward to confess thoughts of
suicide, abusive relationships, eating disorders, gang activity
and family problems. One student revealed he was gay. Another
warned her friends to stop drinking and driving because they
were frightening and hurting her.
Raw emotion, even over apparently petty rifts, reverberated
through the gym.
By her own admission, Dunn speaks in "high-pitched, whiny"
tones. "You don't even know me," she said, confronting Workman.
"You just judged me."
Minutes after Workman apologized, Travis Honesty, 15, a
sophomore, stood up and apologized for making life so hard for a
teammate in junior varsity football.
Minor hazing can be the starting point for grudges with serious
consequences. With this program, and others like it, Fairfax
hopes to build a family atmosphere in schools that can prevent
such incidents from escalating into violence.
The language used in yesterday's Challenge Day targeted "meanies"
and "bullies," but Assistant Principal Rani G. Hawes said it
still applied to everyone. "If we wait for a shooting or
gangbang, it is too late," she said. "We have several students
on the fringe of a gang. You go to a gang to be accepted."
To take part in Challenge Day, students paid a $25 fee, although
some qualified for sponsorships. Hawes said the whole day, run
by a California-based nonprofit company, cost about $3,300. She
hopes to bring the program back for three days next year so more
students can take part.
"At least half of the group is thinking they came here to get
out of class," said Rich Dutra-St. John of Martinez, Calif., who
founded Challenge Day in 1987 with his wife. "But huge things
can happen afterward. 'Challenger clubs' have started to eat
lunch with people left out."
After a Challenge Day two years ago at Oakton High School,
seniors decided to "pay it forward" and, as their class gift,
donated enough money to enable younger students to take part in
the program, Dutra-St. John said.
The day at Marshall began with a series of exercises in which
students were paired off and asked to stand five inches apart
and talk to each other for seven minutes. The facilitators told
personal stories, played John Lennon music and quoted Mahatma
Gandhi ("Be the change you wish to see in the world").
The tissues came out during the "power walk," in which a line of
masking tape was rolled out down the middle of the gym floor.
All of the students lined up on one side of the gym, and
facilitator Cherine Badawi called for certain people to step
across the line:
Anyone who had ever been called fat.
Anyone who had ever been whistled at.
Anyone who had ever been hit by someone he loved.
Anyone who had ever been made to feel stupid by a teacher.
Anyone who had ever been affected by alcoholism.
The visual and physical exercise forced students to see
themselves as both victims and bullies.
"I'm a very judgmental person -- by race, if they're short or
fat, whatever," said Sean Delean, 18, who said he often gets
into trouble (and detention) for his wisecracks. "After this, I
could understand how all these people go through all these
problems."
Delean, a broad-shouldered lacrosse player, crossed the line
with the people who had been labeled "fat."
After the power walk, students gathered in small groups to
discuss stereotypes and to apologize to anyone they had wronged.
With a facilitator's arm around his shoulder, Delean headed
straight to the corner of the room: "My brother's here, and I
want to say I'm sorry I made your life a living hell," he said.
"It'll be good from now on."
Sophomore Blair Delean, 15, accepted the tearful apology -- and
a brotherly hug.
back to the top ~
back to Breaking News
~ back to
What's New
|