A therapist Tucker consulted suggested a plausible reason for his agitation: The boy was still coping with the death of his father, Anthony Sr., in an auto accident a year earlier. Elliott says, "We had asked [Tucker] to work with us" but determined "there was something else needed with Anthony that we could not provide for him."
Having to leave preschool seems an ignominious way to launch one's academic career, but Anthony is hardly alone. A 2005 Yale University study of state-financed classrooms estimated that more than 5,000 U.S. preschoolers are expelled each year—a rate three times higher than in elementary or high schools. While the study was the first of its kind and no comparable statistics are available, experts say there's little doubt preschool expulsions are on the rise.
Schools say they are prompted to take such action when a student's behavior—such as hitting, biting or throwing things—interferes with the smooth running of the class. The trend troubles some experts, however, who say too many schools are shirking their responsibility by tossing out, rather than dealing with, tots who act up or lag behind. "We are creating a group of children who are very likely to come to kindergarten with serious problems," says Dr. Jack Shonkoff, dean of Brandeis University's School for Social Policy and Management.
Behind the drive to expel is the changing nature of preschool itself. While a generation ago most kids didn't start nursery school until age 4, today many begin half-or even full-day programs as young as 2 or 3—a developmental stage not known for decorous behavior. And with the ever-increasing pressure to achieve, some schools—often at the behest of parents—are imposing an overly academic curriculum on little ones at the expense of teaching such basic skills as coping with frustration or empathizing with classmates, experts say. "Some of these centers pride themselves on the fact that your kid will count or know the alphabet by Christmas," says Dr. Barbara Howard, a developmental pediatrician at the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. "Maybe that's not what you want."
Catherine Hewitt remembers her surprise earlier this year when her 2½-year-old son, William, began coming home from preschool with notes from his teacher expressing concern over his behavior. "It seemed like every other day, they were telling me he hit this kid or pushed this one or was fighting for a toy," says Hewitt, 43, an Oakville, Conn., nurse's aide. "I thought
he was just being a typical little boy."
Administrators at Rainbowland Nursery School Center, in nearby Watertown, saw things differently. Patty Forbes, executive director of Rainbowland, says William "couldn't figure out how to play with others. We had a hard time keeping him focused." Within six months of the first negative report they told William's parents that the boy—who has a slight speech delay but no diagnosed learning or behavioral disorder—would have to attend school elsewhere. "Going there was like a second home for him," Hewitt says. "I felt very badly."
Some schools are taking a different approach. When kids at Tufts Educational Day Care Center in Somerville, Mass., persistently display unacceptable behavior, the school draws up a contract listing the behaviors and consequences—but never expels. Affiliated with Tufts University, the center benefits from solid financial footing. But elsewhere, says Dr. Harvey Karp, an assistant professor of pediatrics at UCLA School of Medicine, preschool teachers often lack the training to deal with many common toddler issues—yet are pressured by administrators and tuition-paying parents to do whatever it takes to keep the class humming along. "I'm all in favor of responding to inappropriate behavior," Karp says. "But you have to do it in the most effective way."
Happily, William Hewitt's behavior has been effectively addressed. After getting a list of other preschool programs from his old school, his parents enrolled him in Kangaroo's Korner, a school founded for Down Syndrome kids but which, in recent years, has become a sort of magnet school for mainstream tots kicked out of other programs. Since starting there in August, William, now 3, has had no incidents of hitting or other aggressive behavior and is on track to enroll in kindergarten when he turns 5, says director Catherine Risigo-Wickline. And Catherine Hewitt couldn't be happier. "When I ask [the teachers] how he's doing, they say, "Wonderful—he's a little angel."
Thomas Fields-Meyer. Tom Duffy in Watertown, Linda Kramer in Washington, D.C., Amy Green in Nashville and Nina Burleigh in New York City
- Contributors:
- Tom Duffy,
- Linda Kramer,
- Amy Green,
- Nina Burleigh.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
