Is it acceptable—as we do in this theme issue—to call students “at risk”? Some educators don't think so.
The term came into wide use soon after the landmark 1983 proclamation of the Commission on Excellence, A Nation at Risk. In response to the report's condemnation of U.S. schools as mediocre, educators and advocates pointed to the problems of children and their families. If America was in decline, they countered, the cause was not so much an inept school system as it was a social and economic system that was not producing secure, healthy, motivated young people.
The authors of A Nation at Risk acknowledged that educators were not exclusively to blame for the poor results of American schools; they urged parents to expect more and students to work harder. But they said little about the poverty and degradation that make such pieties meaningless for growing numbers of children. Both points are valid: schools cannot make up for glaring social inadequacies—but neither must they blame their own deficiencies on students and their parents.
That is why critics have objected to “culturally deprived,” “disadvantaged,” and “at risk.” Such terms seem to imply that the problem is in the students rather than in the schools. If educators believe that all children can learn, why label some as least likely to succeed? Doesn't it just provide a ready-made excuse for not teaching them?
Still, no one doubts the challenge of educating children who are tired, hungry, and perhaps abused, children who may have no permanent home and who seldom have the kind of interaction with supportive adults so necessary for mental and moral development in their growing years. To succeed in school, most such children require special attention.
Educators and policymakers agree that a first priority is early education. Rather than allowing students to fail and then offering remediation, it is far better to prevent failure in the first place. But how do we do that? Reduce class size? Offer full-day kindergartens? In this issue, Robert Slavin reviews the options and offers a convincing argument that a program like his Success for All, which combines several research-based components, is most cost-effective.
Other articles report on a variety of promising approaches. Janet Bergman and Ted Schuder describe a whole-language, meaning-based reading program used in several schools in Montgomery County, Maryland, that incorporates the explicit teaching of reading strategies. Paul Kennedy and Nancy Feyl Chavkin write about a mathematics program in San Marcos, Texas, in which 9th graders who would otherwise be taking remedial classes are mastering algebra taught via interactive television by a professor at the nearby university. And David Buchanan tells of a powerful experiential education project in Boston that “supplements the traditional ropes and rocks” of Outward Bound with community service.
These programs go a long way toward ensuring the essential right to education all children have by taking away some of the risk of failing or dropping out. Yet, today the term “at risk” takes on still another connotation. More and more children—from all classes and income levels—are at risk not only of failing in school but also for their personal safety and survival. Articles in this issue deal with such concerns. For example, Douglas Tonks explains why AIDS is an immense threat to young people, and what educators must do to help students understand and cope with that threat. And in a compelling article based on their personal experiences, Thelma Bear and her co-authors tell how to recognize signs of sexual and other abuse and suggest ways to support an abused child.
The problems that children bring with them to school these days are upsetting and overwhelming. Most of us, when we chose to become teachers and administrators, did not expect to be dealing with such matters. But many children are, in fact, at risk. Educators must not only recognize that but must do whatever they can to improve their chances.
