[The nation’s schools are over-criminalized and under-resourced.
U.S. schools have more police on hand than support staff. ]
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MORE POLICE IN SCHOOLS THAN COUNSELORS  
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Robert Koehler
July 11, 2023
LA Progressive
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_ The nation’s schools are over-criminalized and under-resourced.
U.S. schools have more police on hand than support staff. _

This image or file is a work of a U.S. National Guard member or
employee, taken or made as part of that person's official duties. As a
work of the U.S. federal government, the image or file is in the
public domain in the United States.,

 

A tiny piece of news out of Florida the other day poked me, you might
say, in the rear end. The nation’s prison population — we’re
number one! — expanded slightly, as did the concept of crime itself.

A couple in Daytona Beach, Florida — two police officers — put
their 3-year-old son in jail two days in a row, handcuffing him,
letting him sit in the cell wailing, because he . ..

Pooped in his pants.

This was how they were conducting potty training. I kid you not. And
it worked, according to Dad, who told a social worker looking into the
matter that the toddler has promised he won’t do it again —
problem solved! The couple apparently faces an investigation for their
actions by their department, but remained adamant, according to
the Washington Post
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that they had done nothing wrong. This is how you get kids to grow up
properly. Spare the handcuffs, spoil the child.

Yeah, some shocking nonsense, right? But as I read about the incident,
I felt a deep murmur of smug certainty resonating off in the distance
somewhere. The couple’s strange attitude felt, shall we say,
American — the reduction of life to the simple and linear: right vs.
wrong. No psychological, social or spiritual complexity here, folks.
Just punish, terrify, and purify.

The reason I’m writing about it isn’t to castigate this particular
couple but, rather, to look at the larger context in which their
attitude toward parenting fits. Kids in jail aren’t exactly a rare
phenomenon. The legal bureaucracy that runs this country is pretty
simple-minded. Consider, for instance, the militarization of the
nation’s public schools, via the placement of school resource
officers — cops — in the hallways, walking around, looking for
trouble, keeping order.

The nation’s schools are “over-criminalized and
under-resourced,” according to a report in Chicago Policy Review
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which points out that U.S. schools “overwhelmingly have more police
on hand than support staff to deal with students’ behavior
issues.” This means, as of a few years ago, according to ACLU
statistics, that some three million students attend schools that have
police officers but no nurses; 1.7 million students attend schools
with police but no counselors. The stats go on and on. Ten million
students have no social workers at their school, but they have, you
guessed it, police.

And this, of course, means that “disciplining” students often
amounts to arresting them
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not looking with any depth of understanding into their behavior. As
far as I’m concerned, this national attitude is precisely as stupid
and simplistic as that shown by the police parents who tossed their
3-year-old into jail for going in his pants rather than the toilet.
The attitude that makes such an educational structure possible is
totally reductionist: Children who misbehave must be punished. It’s
called tit for tat. There is no other option. And it goes on their
permanent record. Any questions?

If there are consequences for the arrested child in later life,
that’s something for the future to worry about. And Black kids
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more likely to be arrested than white kids? Go ahead and complain if
you want — call it racism — it’s not our concern.

And then there’s this basic fact. Police have far less basic
training for what they do than teachers, counselors, psychologists —
people whose work actually penetrates the complexity of human life. I
say this not to disparage policing, but to note the disrespect with
which the legal system itself holds police work. In point of fact,
maintaining order requires more than a badge, a gun and a pair of
handcuffs. It requires both a depth of human understanding and access
to options other than arrest and jail cells.

When a child — when anyone — is arrested, he or she is instantly
shoved into isolation, separated from the rest of the community.
He’s disconnected from the rest of the world. Indeed, the American
prison structure seems to be completely focused on the maintenance of
criminal isolation, perhaps for the arrestee’s entire life, which
guarantees our society an ongoing presence of domestic enemies.

In contrast, as Fania Davis wrote in Yes! Magazine
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“a student’s sense of belonging to a high school community is a
top protective factor against violence and incarceration.”

Davis, a civil rights attorney, is co-founder of an organization
called Restorative Justice for Oakland (California) Youth
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local school conflict — a 14-year-old boy, chastised for falling
asleep at his desk, began cursing at his teacher, took a swing at a
counselor who intervened, and could easily... oh, so easily . . . have
been expelled, arrested, tossed into the social trash bin.

What happened instead, however, was the opposite of that. And no, it
didn’t happen with the immediacy of a police intervention. The
school had a Restorative Justice coordinator, a process I’ve
been writing about
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years and believe in with the fullness of my being. It’s not about
punishment. It’s about healing. And it’s a long, deeply complex
process, involving all concerned — those who caused harm, those who
were affected by it — speaking their truth and listening to one
another from the heart.

The Restorative Justice coordinator managed to calm the boy down
enough so that, as they walked into the coordinator’s office, he
told the story of his day, which involved a missing, drug-addicted
mother and two younger siblings for whom he prepared breakfast.
Eventually, those involved in the brouhaha — including the teacher,
the principal and the boy’s mother (eventually tracked down by the
coordinator) — sat together in a peace circle, told their stories in
full detail and listened to one another.

This was, of course, a lengthy process, requiring an enormous effort
by the Restorative Justice coordinator, but what flowed out of it was
awe and understanding. As Davis wrote, the principal later exclaimed:
“We were about to put this kid out of school, when what he really
deserved was a medal.”

This is called “a feeling of belonging.” And the feeling involves
all concerned.

_ROBERT C. KOEHLER reports from Peace Voice
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editor for over 30 years, he proudly calls himself a peace journalist.
He has won numerous awards for his writing and, since 1999, has
written a nationally syndicated column on politics and current events
for Tribune Media Services. His new book, Courage Grows Strong at the
Wound, has recently been published by Xenos Press. He can be reached
at [email protected]._

* schools
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* Police
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* behavioral health
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* counseling
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