THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, January 15, 1996 TAG: 9601150036
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY VANEE VINES, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: SUFFOLK LENGTH: Long : 137 lines
The teenager looked like any other middle-class youth, wearing baggy pants, an Adidas shirt and a baseball cap that hid tufts of blond hair.
Sitting across from him at the family's kitchen table one recent afternoon, Ronald Thomas told the student how he, too, had been ``hot-headed'' growing up - how his own father had abandoned the family.
But Thomas told him that despite the teen's troubles, he had to obey his parents and take responsibility for his actions. Going to school was a must, he said.
``I have a fear of what I might do in school if a teacher or someone says the wrong thing,'' the teenager replied, his voice trailing off. ``I have a temper. . . . I just want to go off by myself and think.''
Thomas, the school district's ``home-school specialist'' since 1994, begged the boy to give school another try. He told him he cared; he said he knew the teen was capable of controlling himself. The student, who had cut classes for about two weeks, promised to return in a few days.
He did.
With avuncular warmth and, at times, military-style firmness, Thomas tries to cut down on potential dropouts and absenteeism in a district where about one in seven eighth-graders flunked a grade at least once and 53 percent of high school students have missed more than 10 days of school, according to the latest state report card.
``If people sit back and say, `Don't worry about those kids or those parents,' simply because they made a mistake or because they continue to make mistakes, we're going to lose a lot of children,'' said Thomas, a 46-year-old former health and physical education teacher.
``If that happens, where are we going to be 20 years from now?'' he asked. ``It's like people just want to give up on kids, on other people, so fast these days.''
His job, common in most districts, primarily is to help keep troubled students on track by staying in touch with them and their families.
If they need more than the district can provide, he contacts other agencies to step in.
He constantly reminds youngsters that school is an important source of their identity, a place to build futures.
Still, there's only so much of a connection that a go-between like Thomas can make with a little intervention and some tough talk.
Especially when Thomas is now the only home-school specialist in the 10,000-student district.
In a typical week, Thomas makes at least 25 home visits and countless telephone calls to parents. When it comes to the detective part of his job, he's persistent - often stopping by the same home several times a week, or swapping his business attire for a laid-back, casual look if he thinks a parent might be turned off by a suit and tie.
While he admits that many parents, schools and service agencies could do a better job of nurturing today's youths, Thomas doesn't buy into the notion that public schools have turned their backs on those who need them the most.
``It's like a mouse eating an elephant, but we try to take one bite at a time, save one child at a time,'' he said.
``The kids are crying out and, unfortunately, not all parents have the time or skills or even the desire to give them what they need.
``Could we do more? Probably so. But the schools can't do it alone, and the schools can only work with the resources they're given.''
He says he enjoys the job because it allows him to help principals, teachers and guidance counselors get to the root of a student's academic or behavioral problems.
In one case, for example, he found out why a boy had begun to disrupt class: He had lost his glasses and couldn't see the chalkboard or read hand-outs. The boy didn't want to tell anyone his mother couldn't afford a new pair of glasses.
``I've found Mr. Thomas to be a crucial link in some cases,'' said Forest Glen Middle School Principal J. Felton Edwards.
``He's very familiar with the community; and his communication skills, his knowledge of the behavior patterns of students when they're not in school, his knowledge of the places they hang out - that all makes him a special asset.''
In addition to making home visits, Thomas handles disciplinary matters when the central office needs extra help. He also patrols playgrounds and other hangouts, looking for truants.
No matter how hard he tries to play the enforcer role, Thomas comes across as someone who would rather give a bear hug than a lecture - often encouraging students with a ``C'mon, man,'' or stories about his childhood and tales of accomplished people who overcame the odds.
He doesn't preach, really, said parent Gwendolyn Debrew. ``It's just the way he talks with you. I mean, you just know he cares and he lets you know he'll be there for you.
``He doesn't play and he won't take any stuff,'' she said. ``But it's just like he lets you know that he has no plans to give up on somebody and that he will get his point across - that education is important.''
Debrew and her son, Mandreia, now 19 and in the service, met Thomas when the teen had been placed in the district's nighttime alternative program for students with disciplinary problems. Thomas oversees the program.
His speeches about self-respect, goal-setting and respecting one's mother sank in, she said, ``because he just doesn't give up.''
For Thomas, success comes almost an inch at a time. And it's not always easy to measure.
Sometimes the students - or their parents - change course. Other times, Thomas winds up back at their doorstep or on the phone with them.
Sometimes, students slip through his hands and into the custody of another institution.
``Am I successful? It's hard to say, really. These are human beings, not gadgets or something,'' he said.
``But when the same ones stop being referred to me, I think that's a success. Some of the parents and their kids just don't care, I realize that. But with most of them, it's more, `I don't know what to do.' or `How can you help me?' - not `Get out of my face.' ''
Such was the case with the student he counseled across the family's kitchen table, before talking with the teen's parents.
The parents have worked with Thomas to get their son to open up and discuss what's causing him to skip school and get into trouble.
They've all had little luck. Even so, Thomas said, what counts is that he's attending classes again.
Thomas recently made his third visit to a seventh-grade girl's home. The reason for the call: chronic absenteeism.
Thomas tapped on the apartment door. Upstairs, he found the girl's mother sitting on a couch, listening to gospel music and feeding her grandson from a bottle. The girl was at school.
Thomas explained that the girl's attendance had begun to dip again. He wanted to make sure everything was OK.
The woman said she was feeling better and therefore able to baby-sit her daughter's child. That meant the girl wouldn't have to skip school - or leave early - to take care of the baby.
Thomas told the woman he was there to help in any way he could.
Then he hinted at the district's legal options when a parent doesn't ensure that a minor attends school - a few cautionary facts he always slips in.
Back in his car, Thomas made note of the visit, muttering to himself. ``She's not a bad student. . . . Wouldn't make sense to lose her.''
Minutes later, he was en route to the next home. ILLUSTRATION: RICHARD L. DUNSTON
The Virginian-Pilot
``Home-school specialist'' Ronald Thomas visits students' homes in
an effort to reduce absenteeism and head off potential dropouts.
KEYWORDS: PROFILE by CNB