Until a few days ago, I knew as much about the Indian River County School District’s Alternative Center for Education as most folks in our community.
Almost nothing.
In fact, before my afternoon visit to the center – generically called the “alternative school” by folks who have no connection to the place – I assumed it was nothing more than a warehouse for teen troublemakers whose bad behavior cost them their places in other classrooms.
As I pulled into the parking lot on 28th Court, just north of the Gifford Middle School and across the street from the Gifford Health Center, I fully expected to find a campus that had more in common with a juvenile-detention facility than anything resembling a school.
That’s the perception I carried with me as I walked through the front door. And it’s a perception still shared by many, including students arriving at the school for the first time.
The center’s principal, Denny Hart, said one student was surprised to find doors on the bathrooms. Another told him he had heard “everybody there is crazy” and that “there are lots of fights” on campus.
“One girl said she heard this place was like a jail,” Hart said. “So even the kids don’t know much about what we’re doing here.”
Nor did the School Board.
It wasn’t until Hart gave an in-depth presentation at a meeting last year that board members had a full understanding of – and appreciation for – the transformative, life-altering work being done at the center.
It wasn’t until I spent two hours talking to Hart and Keondra Eberhardt, the center’s student support specialist, and touring the campus that I realized how wrong I had been.
The center is, in every way, a school. It’s a good school. It’s also a necessary school.
“We tell the kids when they first come here: We’re treasure hunters, and we’re going to find the treasure in you,” said Hart, a former teacher and Storm Grove Middle School assistant principal who is starting his second year at the center.
“The kids we get are sent here for a reason, but we don’t see them as bad kids,” he continued. “We see them as good kids who come out of bad circumstances that, quite often, are beyond their control. Maybe they need more attention. Usually, they need more structure.
“Whatever the cause of their problems, whatever their needs, we’ll create a plan that addresses them,” he added. “It’s our philosophy that all kids can learn.”
That includes misbehaving kids who were so defiant and disruptive that district administrators felt it necessary to remove them from their schools – at least temporarily.
According to Hart, the middle school and high school students sent to the center have violated the district’s code of conduct with infractions deemed serious enough to warrant disciplinary measures beyond suspension. The process, which could take up to eight weeks, involves district intervention that includes both academic and behavioral evaluations.
Only after all intervention efforts have been exhausted is a student transferred to the center.
“This is a pit stop, like in a car race,” Hart said. “We change the tires, add some oil to the engine, fill up the tank with gas and send them back onto the track. It’s not permanent.”
Middle school students stay for either 45 or 90 days, while high school students are there for a full 90-day semester. Then, if they’ve proven they’re ready and able, they return to their home schools.
As of Monday, 52 students were enrolled at the center, but Hart said that number was expected to more than double by the end of the school year. Last year, 125 students were sent to the center.
Hart said about half of the center’s current enrollment were at the high school level and that most of the students were boys. He said a “majority” of the students were black.
Though the center has lost some kids to the criminal justice system, Hart said only one student has dropped out since he took over. “And I’m still working on him,” he added.
Hart, whose father, Victor, was a longtime community leader in Gifford, said he has a “passion” for his job and believes “no student should be left behind.”
So what, exactly, does he do?
How do Hart and his staff – the center has 12 teachers and five teaching assistants – turn around teens with a history of causing trouble in class and instill the behavioral and academic discipline these students need to succeed at their home schools?
“We brainwash them,” Hart said.
He was joking . . . sort of.
Students at the center get the same standard education, take the same courses and must meet the same benchmarks as students at their home schools. But they do so with as few as seven and no more than 15 kids in each classroom.
They’re offered more individual attention in a demanding and highly structured environment. In addition to their academic work, students are asked to set goals, solve problems and embrace strategies for success. They’re also expected to behave responsibly, be accountable for their actions and seek assistance or counsel when they need it.
“We’re very big on self-efficacy,” Hart said. “We want these kids to believe in themselves and in their own abilities to complete tasks and achieve their goals. At the same time, we also want them to come to us when they need help.
“You know the old cliche: They don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care,” he added. “We try to show them every day how much we care about them.”
After being searched as they enter the center – their cellphones are collected, then returned at the end of the day – students recite the “Kids at Hope Pledge,” which reads: “I am a Kid at Hope. I am talented, smart and capable of success. I have dreams for the future, and I will climb to reach those goals and dreams every day.”
They also are given weekly point sheets that measure their daily success in academics, behavior, dress code and transition (conversation, use of appropriate language and movement from class to class).
That point sheet, along with the requirements they achieve a 96-percent attendance rate and at least a C average, is used to monitor students’ progress and earn privileges, such as participation in extracurricular activities and an easing of the dress code.
The center’s dress code requires a student to wear belted, black or blue khaki pants and a white collared shirt that is tucked in, and closed-toe shoes.
“The academy look,” Hart said. “These kids need structure in their lives, and this is the only place some of them get it. The dress code is part of that.
“One of the biggest challenges here is that most of these kids haven’t experienced success in school,” he added. “We’re teaching kids that if they want to be productive citizens, we will provide strategies where they can be successful.”
Are the center’s efforts working?
Hart believes they are, and he’s proud of the successes he has seen thus far. In his smartphone are photographs of former students who went on to get their diplomas. He also has video of a graduate who came back to visit the center and talk to students about his experience there.
“We graduated 12 kids from here last year,” Hart said, adding that two were in the Honors and International Baccalaureate programs. “This year, I’ve got two kids filling out applications for dual enrollment at Indian River State College.”
Hart said the center takes seniors on a tour of the college, sends them to job fairs and brings in Workforce Development representatives.
“Whether they choose to go to college or not, we’re here for the long haul,” he said. “We’re preparing these kids for the real world.”
Since the beginning of the 2015-16 school year, only two of Hart’s students returned for a second semester, and he said they chose to do so because they felt they still needed the structure the center provided.
Hart said he’s flattered that he now gets calls from parents who have heard what’s happening at the center, with its smaller classes and more-structured educational environment, and want to voluntarily send their kids there.
We then embarked on a tour of the campus, where Hart and Eberhardt showed me the classrooms, cafeteria and other facilities. They introduced me to teachers, teaching assistants and other members of the staff. They took me through a typical day of school there.
And, yes, it’s a school, maybe our most important school, given the life-changing work done there and the hard fact that it’s the last chance for wayward students to embrace public education.
The center was started 21 years ago, and most folks still know almost nothing about it. They still call it the “alternative school.” They still think it’s a place to warehouse teen troublemakers whose bad behavior cost them their place in the classroom.
They’re wrong – and until a few days ago, so was I.
