SARASOTA HERALD-TRIBUNEDecember 3, 2006 Plan to bus children of migrant workers generates hope and concernChildren of farmworkers would go to Lakewood Ranch school By TIFFANY LANKES MANATEE COUNTY -- For years, school districts have been busing black students into white neighborhoods to create diversity in classrooms.
Research shows that mixing students of different races and income levels teaches cultural lessons and helps all children do better.
Now, for the first time, a group of parents and educators in Manatee wants to bus another minority group -- low-income Latino students from a migrant camp -- to a mostly white and affluent Lakewood Ranch elementary school.
Under the proposal, about 100 students from the Falkner Farms migrant camp near Myakka City would be bused about 40 minutes to McNeal Elementary School on Lorraine Road.
The groups of students, and their backgrounds, couldn't be more different.
At McNeal, only 7 percent of its students are considered poor, and its population is 87 percent white.
At Myakka Elementary, where the Falkner Farms migrants attend school, 30 percent of students are Latino and half qualify for free or reduced-price lunches.
But while busing the migrants would help balance McNeal's student population, some educators wonder how well the migrants would adapt at their new school. Myakka Elementary has spent years developing programs and training teachers to help the migrants.
"It's two completely different worlds," said Angela Sutherland, a Myakka teacher who works with the migrant students. "You cannot even begin to compare."
On school days, the pickups start pulling into the dirt lot at Falkner Farms minutes after sunrise. The farmworkers drop off their children at the school bus stop, and when the bus leaves, the parents head to work in the fields.
Twenty minutes later, the school bus arrives at Myakka Elementary, where students eat their government-subsidized breakfast.
At McNeal, most of the students don't have to worry about catching a bus.
They live in affluent suburban communities near the school, and in the morning a string of luxury vehicles snakes through the parking lot. Parents wait behind the wheel to drop their children off at school.
After the bell rings, the students at McNeal use modern technology and study about topics as deep as how their brain chemistry functions.
Most of the migrant students -- about 25 percent of students at Myakka -- are just trying to learn English.
The migrants are the quiet ones in Kari Barthold's first-grade classroom at Myakka Elementary. They work silently, except for the occasional whisper to one another in Spanish.
The greatest obstacle is the language barrier. For some, this is their first school.
Barthold has found ways to tailor her teaching to help these students. The children use remedial reading programs to practice English. Barthold and the other teachers get extra training to use visual aids and gestures to explain their lessons.
"It's really rewarding to see the progress they're making," she says.
The migrant children sit in pairs so they can help each other if they don't understand. Once a week, a bilingual aide joins the class to give the students extra help.
McNeal might have technology in the classroom, but it doesn't have the remedial programs or teachers who have experience working with migrants.
"It can be very difficult," said Tomas Carrillo, Myakka's migrant liaison. "Teachers who work with these students learn as they do it."
For one period each day, the migrant students go to Sutherland's classroom for extra help with English.
When her door opens, the children run in with smiles on their faces. They're no longer the quiet ones in the classroom; here, they chatter enthusiastically in their native language.
At most schools, there are typically six students in these English-language classrooms. But Sutherland's class at Myakka has 18 because there are so many children learning English.
"OK everybody," Sutherland says in English. "One, two, three."
In sharp, choppy English the students start reading the story in unison. They slouch over the books, dragging their fingers across the words.
"Who can tell me what happened at the beginning of the story?" Sutherland asks them.
A little girl's eyes shimmer with excitement as she thrusts her hand into the air. Sutherland calls on her and she quickly delivers her answer -- in Spanish.
"That's very good," Sutherland tells her. "Now, can you tell me in English?"
The little girl pauses and starts to squirm. After some prodding, she translates her answer into rough English.
"Chip run away," she says.
Most of the special programs at Myakka are remedial and aimed at helping the migrant students catch up. Falkner Farms pays for a tutoring program for the migrants after school.
Many of the migrant parents couldn't participate in school activities, even if they wanted to. The school is a 20-minute drive from the farm, and many can't afford a car or the gas to get to the school.
For some, that doesn't even matter. If they do not have legal identification, state law prevents them from even entering the school.
At McNeal, teachers use microphones that connect to surround-sound speakers so they don't have to strain their voices. Students use computer programs on interactive projection boards to do their work.
The school has spent tens of thousands of dollars training its teachers to connect their lessons to their students' brain chemistry. Many of these programs are paid for by elaborate fundraisers put on by a network of active parents -- a hallmark at the school.
In a typical evening the McNeal PTO brings in more money -- upward of $15,000 -- than the average migrant family makes in a year.
|