Zero Tolerance

"You've got to be kidding me!" I shouted at my computer. Really? I thought. A 6-year-old suspended from school for bringing utensils? I'm all for protecting our kids from potential harm, but a 6-year-old?! On a 45-day suspension?! My kid's six. And if I were in Zachary's mom's shoes I'd be a mess. Especially because, like Zachary, my 6-year-old loves school. And it would have been a total mistake if he had brought an eating utensil with a pocket knife and can opener to school. 

But wait. My 6-year-old wouldn't have a pocket knife to bring to school. Because I know better. Should he ever join Boy Scouts, should we go camping and he need a knife... he may come in contact with one. But I know better than to place a contraption with a sharp knife in the hands of a child without me standing right next to him.

And even if he did find one, my child would know better than to bring a knife to school. Even if he's totally excited about it. Because I would have told him as soon as he came across the fancy little thing that it is not to be played with, touched, or even looked at without me or Daddy around. It is, afterall, a knife.

So, now, I'm not feeling such sympathy for the parent. A parent who, post Columbine and Virginia Tech, feels its "okay" to place a pocket knife in the hands of a child and not supervise it, is a parent who needs a lesson. A big one.

In 2000, while teaching my suburban, affluent 2nd graders, little Amanda pulled me aside. She whispered to me that she needed to talk. Once in the privacy of the hallway, she informed me that Kenny (age 7) had a knife in his backpack. A big one. Amanda returned to the classroom. A few minutes later, with the guidance counselor by my side, I invited Kenny to come out to the hallway. Kindly, I asked him if he had a knife in his backpack. Through tears, Kenny admitted that he did have one. It was his Grandfather's, brought over from Russia. And he was so excited about it that he brought it to school to show his friends. He told me: "I forgot that I'm not supposed to bring it in." We asked him to show it to us. And out he pulled a heavy, sharp, big knife with a large wooden handle. Cleverly wrapped in paper towels.

We called his mom. Kenny was given an in-school suspension for 4 days. And a meeting with his parents, the principal, guidance counselor and school district personnel. There were tears, from Mom and Kenny. But all agreed the imminent danger far outweighed the innocent mistake of a 7-year-old. The danger of it getting in the hands of the wrong child. The danger of it slipping out of his backpack and cutting someone. The danger of him showing it off (which is how Amanda first learned of the knife) and another child grabbing it. Better to use his error in judgment as a teachable moment, than start a chain of children bringing cool knives to show off.

While I knew Kenny would never have caused a problem with the knife, I had another student who may have. And the idea of the knife getting in the wrong hands didn't just concern me, it down right scared me. The prior year, my class included three Emotional Support students. I vividly remember John telling me, in the privacy of the hallway one sunny afternoon, "FUCK YOU Miss M" through his glazed over, evil induced eyes. The following day he had a banana in his hand. Rather than peeling it and eating it, John asked if he could turn it like a knife, through our principal's heart. When he spoke in this manner, John's tone was harsh. He lost the sweet, high-pitched lisp.  This violent attitude could last for several days, or just two minutes. It would turn on like a lightswitch. One minute we're playing Pass the Letter R, the next he's attempting to cut a child's hair.

Yes. He was 7. He spend about a third of the year in a Deveraux Learning Center for children with emotional disorders. But the rest of the year he intermingled with students in an affluent suburban Philadelphia school. It could be your elementary school. Tree lined streets. Large houses. Fancy cars. And innocent children.

So, no, I don't think Zero Tolerance policy in an elementary school is wrong. In fact, I'm 100% for it. Because had John been in the same classroom or cafeteria or bus line with Zachary Christie, his lightswitch might have flipped at that moment. He might have grabbed the Swiss Army Knife. And, just as fast, he may have no longer had to dream of what to do with the banana.

The 45-day suspension and placement in a reform school doesn't fit the bill. But the immediate action of removing the child until a hearing is held is the best policy. A standard policy is necessary. I fully expect Christie's suspension will be altered as the personnel hear this case tonight. (And my hope is that he will be allowed back in the classroom immediately.)  The district was wrong in not holding this emergency hearing until 2 weeks after the event, Two days after the event would have been much more appropriate. But I stand by the school district in the initial enforcement of a Zero Tolerance Policy. for the safety of everyone, there can be nothing but black and white.

A lesson was learned, yes? And Zachary Christie will never, ever bring a knife to school again. Hopefully, his parents, will never, ever allow that to happen by keeping the knife far from the little boy's hands. And, in doing so, there is a lesser chance that a child like John find access to a knife in his school.

Julie Pron is a former elementary school teacher in the Philadelaphia suburbs. She writes at Just Precious as well as other blogs. The names of the students have been changed.