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Prism Online - April 1996

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Pescadero schools give Latinos short shrift

Prism Onlinetext by Thomas Thiboutot
photos by Chris Rath

[ image ]To anybody passing through Pescadero, Calif., it looks like the picture perfect postcard town. The small hamlet of rustic storefronts, fertile green fields, surrounded by winding valley hills is located a few feet from the Pacific Ocean. In Pescadero people still take the time to talk about the weather at the hardware store where a fat sleeping dog lies in the doorway. But to Melvis Guzman it was a drag.

[ image ]Guzman, a Spanish speaking student at Pescadero High, spent his junior year in 1993, wiling away his days in the school's library. No, he wasn't catching up on his reading, but playing checkers with his other Limited English Proficient (LEP) friends. After school, Guzman went to work as a farm laborer at one of the many local farms. Finally, his father told Melvis to quit wasting his time at school, and come to work in the fields.

At 16, Melvis dropped out of school along with Felisha Martin, his 14-year-old girlfriend. Together they had a daughter named Anamara. It was a struggle at first, until Melvis lost his job as a farm laborer and Felisha decided to break it off with him. Then it became unbearable.

About the time Melvis was quitting school, Norma Ruiz was on her way to college. And like Melvis, Ruiz found out she got a raw deal from Pescadero High. Ruiz, a very soft-spoken girl says that counselors at the school advised her not to take preparatory college classes because she is a Mexican woman. Norma also worked in the fields after school, sometimes until 10 p.m., enduring her white bosses calling her a "stupid Mexican."

"It was hard," she says with a slight tremble in her voice. "Attitudes of teachers were racist." She did this to become one of the first three Latinos to ever go to college in the 150-year history of Pescadero.

Back in 1993, Dr. Velia Garcia, a Constitution waving activist and professor at SF State, filed a complaint with the federal Office of Civil Rights, along with Juan Sierra, a passionate, fast talking former Pescadero teacher. As required by the state Bilingual Education Act, the complaint claims that students' civil rights have been violated due to an inferior quality of education. The plaintiffs also blame this discrimination for other residual effects like excessive drop-out rates for Latinos, lack of educational guidance, and retribution if students and teachers complained. In 1994, after the Office of Civil Rights sat on their hands for over a year, they passed the buck to the state level.

The California Department of Education (CDE) began its investigation by assigning a Compliance Coordinator to the case. Suanna Gilman-Ponce says that the CDE never received the original complaint, but confirms allegations of discrimination existed during her investigation. "(Latino) students didn't have the same chances to interact, and they did not receive the same books or curriculum as the white kids," she says. The CDE ordered the school district to comply with the state laws on bilingual education by adopting a plan, hiring accredited teachers and full implementation within a "reasonable time line."

"There was not a lot of support for LEP kids," says Lorena Stankovich, a teacher at Pescadero Elementary. Stankovich says that she spent most of the 1993-94 school year applying "sheltered English" to her eighth grade students. Sheltered English is the primitive process of teaching through picture and word association. A teacher will show a student a picture of, say, a dog, then repeat the word in English. The student will then mimic the teacher's pronunciation. "If they tried, I pass them on," a well-intentioned Stankovich says. "No one failed."

Sierra says that he monitored the school's bilingual aide, Scicorro Brown, for an entire year, after he realized that she never showed up in class. "She only showed up for five days the entire school year," says Sierra. Ruiz concurs with Sierra's claim. "Scicorro didn't help much in classes," says Ruiz. When asked about her record, Brown responded by yelling questions like, "Who are you? Why are you bothering me?" After a short pause she refused comment. Stankovich says, "a lack of support means a lot of students take the dead end road, and drop out."

Jean Goodwine from the San Mateo County Board of Education says that, according to her records, for the past five years the school district has had zero drop outs. However, after obtaining the attendance records for the same five years, Prism found out that, by 1994, 50 percent of Latino students simply disappear from the records by twelfth grade. But the white student population remains steady. "Some got married at 13 or 14-years-old," says Ruiz. "A lot dropped out and went to work in the fields."

In 1994, the school district cleaned house. Sierra was fired after being labeled a trouble-maker. Stankovich defected to La Honda Elementary school. Sean Higgins, an elementary school teacher, fled to nearby Half Moon Bay for a new teaching job. Roger Yohe, the co-superintendent, resigned. Don Berry was transferred to Pescadero High School. Brown, the bilingual aide, was transferred to Pescadero High as a secretary. Judith Frost, the other co-superintendent, transferred to Mt. Shasta School District and refused comment for the story. To put it in perspective, 50 percent of Pescadero's elementary school teachers left, or were fired, and most of the administration staff was replaced.

After Ruiz graduated, the community became divided over the allegations of unfair education. The results led to state intervention of the school district's bilingual program and a dismantling of the administration. But since 1995, the tradition of discrimination continues to thrive in Pescadero with the remnants of the old staff and new replacements.

Veronica Menchaca, a shy girl with long black hair and even bangs across her forehead, started at Pescadero High in September 1995. She came from Zacatecas, Mexico, to be near her family and get her education. Her older cousin Paulina Menchaca took Veronica to register at the high school. Paulina, a recent high school graduate, set Veronica up with a schedule of classes like art, math, Spanish and science. After one month in school, Veronica was pulled out of all her classes and placed into the LEP program. Paulina says that Veronica's days consist of two English classes in the morning with sheltered English by a non-Spanish speaking teacher. Then, two classes of sheltered English in the afternoon with a bilingual aide, who is a recent graduate of the high school with no teaching credentials. The Menchacas are dumbfounded. "Of all classes why was she taken out of Spanish?" says Paulina. Veronica is growing frustrated, says Paulina. "She doesn't like any of her classes. She is segregated from the rest of the school and she isn't taking any classes that will fulfill her graduation."

In September 1995, Bonnie McClung took the reins of the La Honda/ Pescadero School District. McClung with her tight bun hairdo and dark colored suits is an old school hardened academic. She believes, "If it's not broken, I'll break it." Prior to her start, Stankovich says the school held a hiring committee over the summer. "When the school had the opportunity to hire a bilingual teacher, they chose to hire an Anglo with a strong academic curriculum," says Stankovich. McClung says this was before she arrived and had nothing to do with it.

McClung says a heavy sheltered English program is in place for the 40 percent of LEP students in kindergarten through second grade, but concedes she has failed to "crystallize" a program for third through seventh grades. Furthermore, says McClung, "the high school is a question mark."

McClung cites two reasons for failing to meet state requirements in implementing programs: finding money and attracting accredited teachers. "I received no Title One funding, no extra funding, and only small stipend from the state," she says.

"With that many LEP students it's impossible that they didn't get Title One funding," says David Dolson, a bilingual expert for the state of California.

Dolson's right, it is impossible. The district received $37,151.19 from the federal government, under the obscure acronym, ECIA/ESEA (Early Childhood Improvement Act and Elementary Secondary Education Act), according to the 1994/95 budget and audit for LaHonda/Pescadero Unified School District.

"That's your Title One funding," says Dolson, pointing out that the funding is supposed to be earmarked for LEP students. "But a district doesn't necessarily have to spend it on LEP students," he adds.

The audit also debunks any claims of poverty by district officials. Not only was there a $190,000 cash surplus for that year, but another $9,300 came from state funding under Economic Impact Aid, which supplements schools that have incurred increased expenses from bilingual education.

Despite numerous attempts to contact McClung, she chose to ignore Prism's calls.

Over at the high school, Principal Berry is using heavy sheltered English programs. Remember sheltered English-learning through pictures. Berry says, "We are doing our best; we don't have the funding." Despite his lack of funding Berry says that he has only 17 LEP students out of 110, so he is not required by law to have accredited bilingual teachers. The state law says that if the student population of LEP's is under 25 percent, then the district "falls under the small and scattered population," for minimal requirement of bilingual teachers. However, McClung divulges documentation that the high school has 55 LEP students out of 110. And, the elementary school has 77 LEP students out of 177, confirming that both schools are not in compliance with accredited teachers in equal proportion to the amount of LEP students that attend. When Principal Berry is asked about his discrepancy, he says, "The 17 students are the low functionality ones. I didn't know you wanted all the numbers."

"The district is not in state compliance with bilingual teachers," says Gilman-Ponce of the CDE. Superintendent McClung says the district currently has no accredited teachers, but many are working toward it. Millie Allen, the bilingual expert at the elementary school has been "working toward" her certification for "two years." In a cavalier tone, Principal Berry says in response to having qualified teachers, "The (bilingual) teacher doesn't necessarily have to speak the language, but at least work with the kids."

Superintendent McClung says monolingual students have a responsibility to learn English when they come to this country. "If I went to Mexico I would learn their language," she says in snappy sharp words. "If they don't get it by high school, well there's always post secondary education."

"I swear if you use my name I'll get you," says a Latino parent who pleaded to be anonymous. The Latino community is frustrated. Their needs are not being met, their complaints are being ignored and their children are in segregated classrooms. When Millie Allen, the bilingual pro for Pescadero was asked whether they had segregated classes she responds coldly, "based on studies, it is best to teach in a child's primary language, rather than integrating students."

"It's never rational to segregate kids," says Ana Marie Loya from MALDEF, the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund. Loya says not enough trained staff is "rampant" throughout California's school system.

In a segregated school that provides little emotional or financial support happens, and where infantile methods of sheltered English are practiced to teach high school students, there is still hope. People like a laid back Judy McKee and a serious Margaret Hacke-Sedillo run the local Project Horizon program. Project Horizon is a federally funded program that helps teenagers become educated about drugs and alcohol. Their grass root efforts go well beyond the designed purpose of Project Horizon. They are one of the few cohesive forces in the community that support the disenfranchised Latinos. Their goal is to keep these kids in school and show them they are proud, smart and worthy.

In late August 1995, Norma Ruiz was starting her grueling sophomore year at U.C. Berkeley. At the same time, Felisha Martin and her daughter, Anamara, decided to return to Pescadero and finish school. She ended her stormy relationship with Melvis Guzman, then he killed her. (See side bar)

Ruiz beat the odds and worked her way through high school as a bilingual Mexican. She had to deal with counselors discouraging her to follow the college track of classes, because she is a Mexican woman. She worked in the fields 60 hours a week, side by side with her parents, so they could earn meager wages. She shared deplorable farm labor housing with her family. She ignored abusive white bosses all her life who said things like, "All you Mexicans are stupid." She traveled to a nearby school district to get the preparatory college classes she couldn't get at Pescadero before attending U.C. Berkeley. She did all this to be one of the first three Latinos in Pescadero's history to ever go to college.

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