What kind of message does it send when youngsters who are chronically disruptive get all the attention?

There is a great deal of concern about school violence these days -- and for good reason. Though some people maintain that the media greatly exaggerate the problem, those who work in schools in New York City or Chicago or Baltimore know better. And recent polls and surveys show that a majority of parents and other citizens agree with teachers about its seriousness. However, there is considerable confusion about how to deal with violence in the schools.

A high percentage of parents see the issue in matter-of-fact terms. Schools are places where kids are supposed to learn. Youngsters who consistently threaten the learning -- and even safety -- of others undoubtedly need help, but they have no business in the classroom.

But there are some well-meaning educators and policymakers to whom this is not self-evident. For them, the schools' most important mission is to "save" the violent and disruptive kids.

A report of the National Association of State Boards of Education (NASBE) is a good example of this kind of thinking. "Schools Without Fear" says that schools should be "advocates for all children," but it focuses almost exclusively on the needs and "rights" of disruptive students.

The report tells us that schools should restructure themselves to accommodate violent and disruptive youngsters; they should provide special programs and curricula to teach teachers and other kids how to cope with violent students. Above all, schools should bend over backwards not to exclude violent or disruptive students or even, in most cases, put them out of class. The report acknowledges the value of alternative programs but says that students should be placed there only when other possibilities have been exhausted and with a view to returning them as quickly as possible to their regular classes. The basic formula is: We must not give up on these kids, no matter what.

This sounds very good -- and it is quite right that turning violent and disruptive kids out onto the street will not help them; quite right that they need special programs and alternative facilities. But the kids who are forgotten in this picture are the vast majority of students, who don't make trouble. Why do we place so much value on youngsters who come to class with knives or guns and so little on their classmates who want to learn -- or would give it a try if their classes were not disrupted by violence or fears of violence? What kind of message does it send when youngsters who are chronically disruptive get all the attention? And what does it mean for the future of public education?

John Cole, president of the Texas Federation of Teachers, recently attended the annual Scholastic "Summit on Youth Violence," and what he heard led him to ask some of the same questions.

"The consistent theme," he writes in his report on the conference, "is that society's responsibility is to the perpetrators of violence, and that we should lavish our attention on those who commit violence, in an effort to save those individuals, without regard to the effect that attention has on other, nonviolent members of society.

"The message," Cole continues, "came through time and time again. Those who commit crimes, abuse drugs or disrupt school are crying out for help, and we should rush to help them. My problem with this line of logic is that if young people learn that the way to obtain help is to strike out in acts of violence, that will become the normal method for seeking special help in our society. By rushing to help these young people, are we not encouraging others to emulate their behavior?"

Cole does not think we should abandon violent young people, but he thinks that absolving them from responsibility is ultimately destructive: "We need programs to work with them, and we should try to salvage as many as we can. However, if we assume that society is to blame for all their problems and responsible for developing solutions, we take away from them the responsibility for their own lives. Once a person assumes that he has lost control of his destiny, he has no difficulty in justifying any act because he feels no responsibility for the consequences."

Cole's conclusion: "If the philosophy espoused at this conference wins the debate over the role of schools in our society, public schools will become the place where we try to salvage lost lives, and private schools will become the place where people send well-behaved children who want an education."

Most ordinary parents and citizens understand this -- it explains why a lot of people who have supported public education are turning, in frustration, to vouchers. And it's time the well meaning people who believe that schools should put violent kids first realize that they are helping to destroy public education.