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PROGRESS IS MADE, BUT WHAT OF THE FUTURE?

THE BALTIMORE SUN

Before the school day ends, William Haroth will have quieted a swearing student standing before him, praised another for a day without trouble and helped teachers lift a third, kicking and screaming, off the floor.

This is only a small part of his world as principal of Phoenix Annapolis, one of three special education centers in the countywhere students with serious emotional problems can learn to work through them while continuing their studies.

Another student takes his usual seat at a small table in the corner of Haroth's office, patiently waiting for a chance to explain his behavior in class. But when the principal leaves his office, the student takes over the schoolwide intercom and sings for a minute before getting caught.

"The kids we have here are very complex," Haroth says. "While there are only 80 at any given time, we may have 800 different problems to address. Sometimes it gets draining."

Haroth's mild manner and sense of humor makes him a master at his job -- a sortof combination principal, father, counselor, confidant and friend.

"It's a people business," he says. "We're not making widgets. When widgets go amiss, the boss can stop the line; here we can't always fix things right away."

Haroth was among the designers of the Phoenix Center schools, which since 1975 have gathered seriously emotionally disturbed students together in centers adjacent to Annapolis and Glendale elementary schools and on the grounds of Crownsville State Hospital. Before they were established, those students were grouped together at Crownsville State Hospital or were not served at all.

Haroth, who was a teacher at Crownsville, smiles as he speaks of the students in kindergarten through 12th grade in his well-structured program far removed from those earlier days. Daily report cards are sent home with students, detailing their behavior and progress.

The students at Phoenix Annapolis have been sent here because of a history of aggressive behavior -- such as stabbing a classmate with a pair of scissors or exhibiting extreme suicidal tendencies. The few elementary-age students have had long, uncontrollable crying outbursts or tempertantrums.

State Board of Education spokesman Larry Chamblin remembers the struggle to reorganize Maryland's special education system in the early 1970s.

"Many of the students who are in school now never showed up before," Chamblin says. "They were kept at home; other cases were shunned aside."

Haroth is thankful for a place to educate students who once may have had no place in the school system.

"Back then, children could be voluntarily committed to Crownsville withno hearing," Haroth says. "They now have civil-rights safeguards. Then, the stay was indefinite. It was a sentence at a hospital that once you got in, you could stay and get lost. These students are now served in the county."

At Phoenix, many students return to their homeschools after a stay of six months to a year; others are mainstreamed on a part-time basis after spending years at the school and learning to modify their behavior.

But at least six students each year must be referred to costly out-of-county residential programs -- boarding schools for children whose mental or physical handicaps prevent them from attending school in Anne Arundel County or the nearby area.

Haroth's mood changes when he admits that the student who took overthe school intercom system is among those to be recommended for residential placement.

"We're pretty tenacious," Haroth says. "We don't give up easily. If, after time, it's proven that we can't meet the student's needs or the student is detrimental to others, then we haveto break down and recommend residential placement."

Much progress

Few would argue that special education in Anne Arundel County hasimproved greatly in the last 16 years. But where does the county go from here?

As parents gain a better understanding of special education issues -- in part through the Board of Education's Parent-Educator Resource Center at the Carver Staff Development offices in Crofton-- more demands will be placed on the county.

The county school system is responsible for handicapped students from birth to age 21. During that time, they are nurtured and educated. But until two years ago, that commitment ended when they were handed over to social service agencies for placement in either sheltered work settings away fromthe public or medical day-care programs.

Today, the commitment tomainstreaming, part of the popular "least restrictive environment" philosophy, is increasing the amount of time disabled students associate with their peers. Parents are learning that their dreams of independence for their children are not as fanciful as once believed.

Job coaches throughout the county are training students once thought incapable of holding a job. Even students who are illiterate or possesslimited verbal skills, but have the use of their limbs, are being trained.

Progress, for both the school system and its students, has been steady.

But there are still lessons for the county to learn, taught by special education students who have moved out of the classroom and into the world for which educators had hoped to prepare them.

School officials are listening.

Matthew Roberts, a mainstreamed blind student who graduated from Arundel Senior, attends the University of Maryland Baltimore County. The Crofton resident complains that limited county transportation hampers his ability to be independent.

"This area is difficult for a blind person to get around," the 22-year-old says. "I'm training for a job at the information desk at BWI (Airport), but I'm not sure if I will be able to keep it if I can't get around."

During a daylong workshop at the BWI Holiday Inn inearly April, teachers and principals got an earful, as former special education students talked about their experiences in the county.

Doug Phelps, now 24, a legally blind graduate of Meade Senior High and Catonsville Community College, complained of being shut away from other students for the first five years of his county education.

"All we saw was each other," he said, hoping his audience catches the joke. "I was glad when we started mainstreaming, because we kept running into each other."

South River graduate Jill Frost, who has cerebral palsy, works as an aide at Central Special School in Edgewater.

"It would have helped if there was adapted physical education," Frost said. "I was always sitting on the sidelines or cheering. Maybe I can't run as fast, but I sure as heck can try."

Both students, however, praised the school system for finding ways to challenge them.

Money is a big problem

In today's era of tight budgets, the amount spent on special education is under greater scrutiny than ever before. More money is spent on special education than any other department in the Board of Education's $330 million budget -- $29.6 millionthis year, with a recommended increase to $33.8 million for the fiscal year beginning July 1.

Not that problems with the county's special education curriculum are limited to money. Federal and state mandates must be followed. The school system must also monitor equity issues, including complaints that a disproportionate number of minority students -- specifically black males -- are placed in special education courses. The school system is currently being investigated by the U.S. Department of Education for violations in that area.

But money remains a primary concern. And making budget scrutiny even more difficult, special education costs are notoriously hard to predict. Students requiring special attention are identified throughout the schoolyear, and costs for private out-of-state placements continue to rise.

In addition to his position as principal at Phoenix, Haroth supervises the three teachers and one teaching assistant at Crownsville. Even though no more than three of the 25 students enrolled there at any time come from Anne Arundel County, the school system bears the financial responsibility for providing teachers.

Crownsville illustrates the financial pressures special education can place on a school system. For years, Anne Arundel officials have tried in vain to get other school systems to pick up the cost of educating students sent from their jurisdictions. But federal laws require that education costsbe picked up by the host county.

Dr. Jerome Kowalewski, director of Crownsville Hospital's adolescent unit, oversees education, housing and therapy for students ages 13 through 17. Dressed in a blue Windbreaker, one hand resting on his hip, he glances across the sprawlinggrounds at dormitories where students once faced a harsh, institutionalized existence.

Today, they are housed in a tightly secured dorm, with strict monitoring by staff stationed throughout the hallway. The emphasis is placed more on understanding and improving behavior than simply controlling it.

"It's much more structured than before," says Kowalewski, who has been at Crownsville since 1968. "The education component is much more sophisticated. Special education has comea long way."

Constance Harris has taught at Crownsville for 12 years, working mostly not with special education students per se, but those who have been referred to the school by a court order or doctor's recommendation. Many of the students have been involved in drug abuse or other crimes in the community.

Harris has developed methods to help students examine their lives, while making sure their basic studies continue.

In the red-and-white Campanella building on the Crownsville grounds, Harris uses creative therapy to help students address their feelings while improving their writing skills.

One student wrote:

She had many things in store for me

Things I never had

Although inside I know

I've crushed her dreams

And I'm the reason why her eyes look sad

To love me and make me happy

Washer only aim

Although she doesn't say it now

I know I put her to shame.

Financial woes of the state and school system have prompted renewed interest in Crownsville. Plans are being drawn for a new program called Focus Point, scheduled to begin next fall. If approvedby the state, it would expand the program at Crownsville to educate and care for severely disturbed students on a long-term basis, ratherthan the current short-term stay for evaluation.

At first glance,the plan would appear to be a win-win situation for the county and state. Anne Arundel County would gain a facility for students who havebeen placed unsuccessfully at residential facilities from Maine to Georgia. And the state would reduce the amount spent on residential placements. Last year, the state contributed $2.8 million to the cost of enrolling 70 special education students in such facilities. That figure is expected to more than double by next year.

Ken Lawson, thecounty's assistant superintendent for student support services, estimates Focus Point will cost the county $1.3 million to start up; thatincludes the salaries of 12 teachers.

But Lawson insists the county will not get involved unless state officials commit themselves to the project. He fears the school system will be stuck shifting much-needed special education teachers away from county schools.

"As much as we want to see this project put into place, we will not enter into an agreement unless the state is willing to go all the way with itby investing the money needed to make it a quality program," Lawson said. "There is no shortage of students for this kind of program, butwe want to make sure it will be done right."

PREPARING FOR THE FUTURE

School Superintendent Larry L. Lorton says he hopes to keep bothhis schools' successes and failures in mind as he guides the school system toward the 21st century.

"Anne Arundel has developed a reputation for providing special education services, and it would be my hope that it will continue," Lorton says. "The spirit of the law that began special education has gotten a rebirth. In the long run, it will be my goal to continue to provide for (students) in the least restrictive environment.

"The enormous reward is the experience for thekids. They are no longer cloistered but are experiencing the real world. We are hearing the stories of what some kids have been able to do, we are hoping to be able to do that for more."

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