EVERETT Three days in jail for throwing a snowball.
That snowball put a 15-year-old Marysville Junior High School student in an orange jumpsuit for a weekend stay in the Denny Juvenile Justice Center here early last month and a Marysville School District official soon had the kid before a juvenile court commissioner as a not-so-subtle prompt to get the young boys attention.
By all accounts the youth is too cute and too smart for his own good sometimes. The class clown and a born ham, he cuts up with the best of them. But hes been cutting class and blew off home detention during a snow day and got caught. Frustrated with a good-looking boy with too many friends to rely on, his mother had him put in the Denny Juvenile Justice Center for a three-night stay.
I bet he wasnt sitting around in his boxers eating Captain Crunch, said his mom Cindy just before her son was hauled before commissioner Jacalyn Brudvik. Hes just now admitted he needs to be held back.
Barry, as we will call him, was cut loose a few hours later after giving the judge a lame explanation for leaving the house and not staying in school. He had an attorney sitting next to him, and on her other side was Barrys mom and the closest thing to a prosecutor in these proceedings.
Debbie Axtman is the truancy officer for the Marysville School District and for the moment, Cindys best friend. Brudvik listens to Axtman explain how Barry failed the After School Alternative Program, a detention program where kids with attendance problems avoid jail by staying in their regular school, reporting to the juvenile jail for an afternoon in a structured program and then stay under house arrest in their own home from 9 p.m. to 7 a.m. when the cycle starts over.
Barry was in the ASAP for skipping class in the first place, and the walls of his house are considered the jail for the night. No checking the mail or running to the store is allowed. So when he took to the streets and threw snowballs at passing cars, he got three hots and a cot for the weekend. And mom couldnt be happier.
What I like about this mom is that shes all over it, Axtman said. This is what I see everyday, parents who are trying to get their kids back into school. Ive seen her cry.
For a district with 11,500 students, Axtman carries a portfolio of about 1,200 truants and fields about 50 to 60 calls a day with the help of an assistant. She is in juvenile court about three times a week, and this morning as she and Cindy are discussing Barrys case, a girl in her early teens is being handcuffed by a jail guard right in front of her mother a few feet away from them. She was mouthing off to a jail guard and wouldnt spit out her gum.
I think this might wake him up though, Cindy said as she watched the guard lead the girl away. Hes completely capable he gets 4.0s when he tries.
This kids got a personality that just doesnt quit, Axtman agreed. He should be an actor.
In front of Brudvik hes acting pretty cool, but not too cool to get a hug and a kiss from mom in front of the other teens wearing the same colored jumpsuits. He smiles sheepishly as he discusses his case with his attorney and nods politely when Axtman tells the judge what she would like to see happen. In a few minutes the kid is taken away to change into his own clothes and Cindy and Axtman breath a sigh as they leave. Its not clear that either are relieved.
If jail time for a snowball sounds heavy handed, Axtman notes that most of the leverage she and school districts now have came from the senseless murder of Rebecca Hedman, a 13-year-old prostitute walking the streets of Spokane who was murdered by a client on Oct. 17, 1993. Back then police had no authority to bother or arrest dropouts or runaways, no matter how young, so lawmakers were outraged at Hedmans bludgeoning with a baseball bat by a Canadian man named John William Medlock. Medlock paid Hedman $50 for sex and killed her when she cried during the act. Two years later the Becca Bill was passed by the Washington state Legislature and now police and principals have immense resources at their disposal to make sure students dont head down the path Hedman took.
Barry has just found out the hard way.
Axtman resorts to scenarios like the above to get kids back in school by hook or by crook. The stakes are just too high to let children walk away from an education, she said.
Were pretty vigilant; were trying to get to kids earlier. Were stricter, Axtman said, no apologies. The bottom line is that you cant get a job that pays anything unless you have a diploma or a GED.
Now by state law Axtman or her counterpart with the Arlington School District, Clint Conrad, have to get involved when a student racks up five unexcused class absences in one month or seven complete days in a month. Three periods skipped counts as an entire day, Conrad said. Ten absences in a year is another trigger to get him involved in a students life.
We get real nervous when they reach five and we file they reach seven, Conrad said. Ive got a file cabinet here that is chock full. Just this year I have filed probably a little over 30 or 40 and thats just a half year.
Conrad was a special education teacher for 30 years and then he handled truancy for the entire Everett School District for five years. Now he just handles Arlington High School: other schools handle their own truants in his new district.
He lowers the boom when he goes to the juvenile court to file an At Risk Youth petition that will enable police to pick up a student who has dropped out. The law says until age 18 kids have to be enrolled in some sort of educational program, vocational, college prep, General Education Diploma, whatever. If they arent the court petition acts as a warrant for the students arrest. He makes the trip to Everett once or twice a week for the 1,600-student Arlington High School.
When I was in Everett, it was every day, Conrad growled.