Hysterical Fear-mongers

Good evening from the "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore" desk.

Have you ever encountered an idea that had been generally accepted by everyone, and you realized you'd gone along with others in being accepting of it, only to realize that it made no sense whatsoever? I have. It's the famed "zero-tolerance" policy that pops up now and again. It's WAY out of hand.

I suppose zero tolerance policies have their place in the world. I have zero tolerance for my kids running into the street, in front of an oncoming car. I don't, however, have a zero tolerance policy for my kids' running. They can run (safely) all they want. Running is not the problem. The street is not the problem. The car is not the problem. The problem is slightly more difficult than that to discern, but it can be done, with some thought...the fact that they don't see the oncoming car is the problem.

Schools (a staff member of which I may someday be) are famous for zero tolerance policies. There is zero tolerance for drugs on campus. It sounds good, right? Drugs at school can't be good...or can they? 18-year-old Anne is old enough to vote, can legally get married, can choose to enter the armed forces and fight and die for her country, yet she can't bring Tylenol onto her high school campus to relieve her headache. 12-year-old Ashley can walk her little brother home from the bus stop, enter the house with her own key, start dinner for the family, and help little bro with his homework, but she can't bring aspirin to school for her sore knee (she's on the track team). Zero tolerance, after all.

Are kids getting all hopped up on Tylenol and aspirin? Nope. They're getting hopped up on crack, meth, coke, and other illegal drugs. But administrators adamantly cite the zero tolerance policy. I guess it's too difficult for them to discern the difference between meth and Tylenol, so Susan and Ashley are in for it. And, by the way, the kids getting hopped up on meth are still getting hopped up. They just know how to get around the rules. Too bad for the kids who just need an aspirin. And when we ask why meth and crack and pot are still in use at school? Well, my goodness! The administration is overworked! (yeah...what with all the tylenol they have to confiscate...)

You know, when I was in high school, I borrowed aspirin from a friend. Our lockers were right outside the principal's office, but it wasn't a big deal, because back then, hysterical fear-mongers were NOT allowed to run the country. People could actually use their brains and think! Imagine that!

And yes...there's a reason for my rant and rave tonight. Two weeks ago, my husband called me at work and said our son was serving an in-school suspension for making a paper sword. Apparently the principal had tried to call my cell phone, but it was out of charge. Oddly, I've repeatedly asked them to call my work phone during the day because my cell phone is in my purse. I have a headset at work and hear every call come in. But, they "forgot."

I spoke with the principal, who said my son was waving the sword in a threatening manner (I know...paper shouldn't be threatening, but we're dealing with hysterical fear-mongers here). Now I've been called to school RE.PEAT.ED.LY. this year to pick up my son when he's committed infractions like not stopping his swing in mid-air to avoid a collision with a student who purposely walked in front of him to cause trouble (as described to me by the principal); for coloring on another boy's shirt (who was also coloring on my son's shirt), for taking the insoles out of his own shoes, and various other times. And I. Have. Had.It.

I said to the principal that I had been perfectly willing to come to school because I am a supportive parent. I want my child to behave. I want him to learn. I support the teachers. But frankly, I also have a job, one which I cannot quit in order to sit next to my son all day every day, to ensure he does what he is supposed to do. I just can't. At some point there has to be some classroom management. And I suggested that when he is sent to the office from now on, that the principal not reward him by playing chess with him. Hell, I'd go to the office at every opportunity too, if the principal played games with me!

I have since been calling the school every day to see how my son is doing. And about a week ago, I spoke with Ms. Clarkson* again. The principal wasn't available, and she wondered the reason for my call. I told her I had questions about the paper sword incident. Ms. Clarkson* told me she had been the one to take the sword away. Jackpot!! I asked her what my son had been saying as he waved the sword. She said he wasn't really waving it and wasn't saying anything. She went on to say that "we made the sword, and put a staple in the end to hold it together." She later "saw him walking down the hall with it, but didn't take it away." Then, she saw him in the classroom pointing it at someone, and THEN she decided it was inappropriate. After "we" had made it and let him walk around with it, suddenly, ZAP! Zero tolerance. Or maybe 0.25 tolerance. Or 0.95.

Weapons in school...bad, right? But, wait! What kind? What context? Wait...do we have to...oh my gosh...THINK? In a school? Use our brains?? Say it isn't so! Oh, the humanity!

Real weapons (actual guns, swords, knives, numchuks, daggers, cannons, catapults, AK-47s)...BAD. A table knife left in a pocket from a Boy Scout campout? Not great, but no reason to clear the campus. Jack knives? Probably not great either, but again, this is NOT a crisis. Take it away, move on with your day, and TEACH THE KIDS. A paper weapon (even a paper howitzer)? Ummm...let's see...we let them use scissors, right? And pencils? Pencils are hard. You could hurt someone with a pencil. Oh, crap!! Maybe we should ban them??

No. Paper is not threatening (okay, unless it's a court summons or something). There should be no zero tolerance measures taken against paper.

Hysterical fear-mongers: try crocheting. It's relaxing.


*=names changed to protect the author from lawsuits by hysterical fear-mongers.