IN THE

NEWS

Guiding people on the path to change.

Asking teenagers to describe their strengths out loud can be tantamount to telling them to risk public humiliation.

But that was the assignment facing Lauren Sullivan and her classmates on Tuesday at Bethesda PA.Treatment & Healing in East Stroudsburg .

“I hate talking about myself because it sounds conceited,” said Sullivan, 15, who was one of seven students working at Bethesda, which is one of several alternative schools in the area that accepts students who have run into discipline problems in traditional public schools.

Alternative schools are meant to be places where students can relearn patterns of behavior that got them into trouble in the first place, and then, ideally, go back to their home schools.

Monroe County’s public schools have been increasingly relying on alternative placements. For roughly every five disciplinary incidents that occurred in a Monroe County public school in 2005-06, one resulted in an alternative placement. The county’s 131 referrals to alternative education sites that year placed it alongside counties with enrollments that doubled Monroe’s.

Opponents charge that these placements have become overused, while supporters say alternative schools can provide a needed safety valve.

Tuesday’s exercise had Sullivan and her classmates working one-on-one with their mentors – students majoring in secondary education at East Stroudsburg University. On a large sheet of paper, they drew six circles, each of which was labeled according to what they wanted their lives to be like in five years—where they would live, what their purpose in life and interest would be, and with whom they wanted to associate.

Some goals tended toward generalities—live in New York , play soccer, go to college. Others were more personal—“a house without fighting.”

The idea of the exercise was to get the students to think about their future and how to get there. It was something that Aishling Fennessy, 15, had not done much of before. “I live day by day,” she said. “This kind of scares me, in a way. I can’t depend on anyone but myself.”

The program is meant to create connections between students at Bethesda and those in the outside world. It started last year as a project of Americorps, the national public service program. It is being coordinated this year by Christine Giunta, 22, a recent ESU graduate in sociology who is working with Americorps.

“We want to help kids realize that it’s not just parents or teachers who care about them,” said Giunta, who was raised in Lindenhurst , N.Y., before she moved to the Poconos for college.

For Fennessy and her mentor, Seville Soto, 21, that realization has soaked in. Each came to the area from New York—Fennessy from Queens and Soto from Brooklyn. Each described a similar brassiness masking a generous side. “We, like, connect,” Fennessy said.

Soto said the experience at Bethesda has made her consider working in alternative education instead of as an English teacher at a traditional school. “You get more personal, and get to know your students,” she said. 

The students at Bethesda must maintain their best behavior throughout the week in order to continue their weekly sessions with the ESU students. “We’ve had kids behave just to see their mentor,” said Pete Charney, Bethesda’s dean of students. “They see, well, somebody does care.”

Tuesday’s group is composed of fifth- through ninth-graders and will meet through the end of the ESU school year; another on Wednesday is for high school students. “They’re engaged the whole time,” Charney said. “It’s amazing.”

At Sullivan’s table, Alison Schaefer, 50, an ESU student, shared bits of her own perspective as the girl wrote on her paper. The 15-year-old, whose home school is East Stroudsburg High School North, started to talk more. But she said it generally took her a long time to open up and trust people.

“Trust needs to be earned.” Schaefer said, as she sipped her drink.

Schaefer said she planned to work in alternative schools teaching biology once she graduates. “They have more life,” she said of the students there. “They’re more interesting to deal with.”

It was something she found she had a talent for after working at Pocono Mountain Academy , another alternative school. “I approach the kids with the same degree of respect as I would my grandparents,” she said, “and that really seems to work.”

Schaefer tried to convince Sullivan to articulate what she could be proud of—even if it was as simple as writing it down and then throwing it away, so no one could read it.

“It’s important to think good thoughts about yourself, even if you don’t tell everybody,” Schaefer told her. “In this room, in this circumstance, this is exactly what we want you to do.”

Sullivan smiled.