Dropping back into school

By Emily Richmond

Saturday, March 3, 2007 | 7:07 a.m.

Dustin Edwards straightens up from his teenage slouch and for a moment, there's a spark in his eyes. So maybe this time he gets it.

"I've had a lot of second chances," he tells you. "I know I've said it a lot, to a lot of people, but this time I'm actually going to do it."

His goal: Stay in high school, and graduate.

And he'd better, because the Clark County School District is losing its patience with him.

Dustin has been in and out of school - many schools - over the past three years. When other kids his age were in class, he was loafing with other truants, at food courts and arcades. He turns 18 in August but is two years behind in his schoolwork.

Dustin's a smart kid, everyone says. There's no reason he can't do the academic work, even excel in some subjects. And that's part of Dustin's frustration: He knows he has put himself in this situation.

"I could easily have worked hard and caught up," Dustin says. "I chose not to."

But now he says he's choosing to. He struck a deal on Monday with Edward Goldman, the associate superintendent of education services, that should earn him a diploma by next winter.

The deal: Goldman would find him a place at an alternative high school with fewer than 250 students, where Dustin should more easily fit in. In exchange, Dustin would show up on time, stay for every class and do his work.

So Dustin was enrolled at Global Community High School, which offers intensive English-language instruction for students who are new arrivals to the United States but also accommodates students who need to make up missing academic credits. Dustin would also attend afternoon and evening classes at the Morris Academy Sunset Program, which shares its campus with the high school.

In other words, Dustin promised on Monday to attend school from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. to complete two years of schooling in half the time.

The teenager also knows he may be looking at Saturday classes and summer school as well, but he says it will be worth it if he can graduate and join the Marine Corps.

If Dustin hadn't come back and asked for help again, it's unlikely anyone from the district would have gone looking for him. And he would have become one of the more than 4,000 dropouts the district expects to have this year.

The files of some of the district's most troubled students land on Goldman's desk. He reviews recommendations for suspension and expulsion, and offers lifelines for kids like Dustin - the ones who drop out, come back and drift away again.

There are plenty of options in the School District, and students are using them. There are alternative schools with child care for teenage parents, and evening and early morning classes for working students. Students who dislike the crowded high schools or would rather work at their own pace can take online classes from home.

It's challenging enough for the district to keep dropout-prone students from slipping away. And once they're gone, it's almost impossible to lure them back.

"To trace every kid who drops out, to follow through, to find someone to stay on top of it, we don't have the resources for that," Goldman said.

Dustin's challenges seemed to grow out of culture shock: He moved to Las Vegas from Idaho three years ago. His mother walked with him to the registrar's office at Sierra Vista High School, where the student body - 4,000 kids - was 10 times larger than what he had left behind.

"His face went white," Tammy Edwards said.

The problems started soon after. Minor skirmishes at first, when Dustin was teased for his unstylish clothing. Then there were actual fights, when he shoved back and defended himself. He was sent to one of the district's alternative schools, and then transferred to Spring Valley High School, hoping for a fresh start. Instead, he found more trouble.

Around Thanksgiving 2005, Dustin and some friends stole bicycles from the school. Dustin was the only culprit to later tell police the truth. His honesty and remorse earned him another chance.

Instead of jail, Dustin was sent to a diversion program. And back to school.

He made a good beginning at Burk Continuation High School last fall, but again slid off track, distracted in part by his parents' divorce.

"He'd act like the class clown because he didn't understand the work, but you can only do that for so long," his mother says. "He'd get further and further behind."

Then, Dustin stopped showing up.

His mother, who works as a project coordinator for a luxury condominium complex under construction, had begun e-mailing the principal every day, asking whether Dustin had shown up for first period, and then second period and so on. When the answer was no, she would set off looking for her son.

She would find him at McDonald's. Or the Orleans' arcade. Or the Palms. It surprised her how many teenagers she would see there, idling in the food court, watching the gamblers on the slot machines.

"I've been a good parent, but he's bigger than me," Edwards says. "I tell him, 'No,' and he does it anyway."

After her son missed two weeks of school, Edwards asked the district to allow Dustin to return to Burk. Goldman said no. The teenager had burned his bridges.

Edwards says she doesn't blame the school. "They'd given him every opportunity and he'd failed at every one."

Dustin, though, has found a new motivation. He has been talking about the Marines for months, and Edwards said her opposition was wearing down.

"If he can get his high school diploma and get into the Marines, they'll at least give him some structure and some discipline," Edwards says. "That's what he needs."

A week ago Dustin went to the Marines recruiting office to find out if he could enlist. He was given a written exam, a mix of reading, writing and math and scored a 23. The Marines require a minimum score of 31.

The recruiter told Dustin he also needed a conventional high school diploma. A general equivalency diploma, he said, wouldn't cut it. Why not go back to school, the recruiter encouraged. You'll get your diploma, come back here and do better on the test next time. A higher score can mean more opportunities after enlistment, Dustin was told.

On Monday Dustin asks his mother for a favor. Would she drive him to Goldman's office? He needs to get his life back on track.

As her son trudges in to meet with Goldman, Edwards sits in her car, and quietly weeps with joy and relief.

"He came in on his own and begged to go back to school," Goldman says. "What am I supposed to do? Tell him no? That he came in of his own volition carried some weight."

It was a long walk down the hallway to Goldman's office.

"It was scary, going to someone after you messed up," Dustin says. "I'm glad I did it."

Dustin's new regimen would have begun the next day. But on Tuesday he is sick.

On Wednesday, he's at school.

"This is a 50-50 proposition," Goldman says. "He's over 17, past the compulsory age for education. This is something he has to decide voluntarily. We've done our part, and now he has to do his part."

Dustin doesn't show up for school on Thursday.

And he isn't at school on Friday.

Will he be there Monday?