February 6, 1998 Nation's Schools Policing -- And Punishing -- Off-Campus Behavior By TAMAR LEWIN At a time when the public is clamoring for tougher school discipline, many educators across the nation are edging into the role of policing not just what goes on within their own buildings, but off-campus problems as well, from fistfights at the mall or sexual harassment on the school bus to drinking, smoking or drug use in students' homes. Many schools now have codes of conduct barring the use of alcohol, drugs or tobacco by athletes and others who participate in extracurricular activities. Many also have formal policies requiring suspension or expulsion when a student is arrested, and some districts intervene even when the police have not been contacted. Generally, schools have broad discretion on how to handle out-of-school behavior that may disrupt school life. And many school officials say that to maintain a healthy atmosphere in school -- and to respond to community concerns about young people lacking adequate family supervision -- they cannot ignore what happens off campus. The increasing number of suspensions can be traced in part to federal laws mandating zero tolerance of weapons or drugs in school, laws that have spurred schools to a more active role in policing any outside behavior that could spill over into school. "We're seeing more of these disciplinary actions than in the past, in part because society is looking so desperately for some source of supervision for kids who are seen as out of control," said Steven Shapiro, legal director of the American Civil Liberties Union. "Schools are, by default, what people look to. And when the Supreme Court OK'd drug testing of student athletes in 1995, which is really testing for drugs that were taken out of school, that was seen in some places as a green light for getting involved in behavior that takes place out of school." But some parents feel that the extension of school discipline into weekends and evenings -- and their own homes -- encroaches on their parental authority. In Liverpool, N.Y., last November, 13-year-old Ryan Kellogg was suspended for the rest of the school year for leaving a message on a classmate's tape machine, mixing goofy remarks like "I feed you ice" with graphic sexual threats about shoving a Remington semiautomatic and a box of cornflakes into her private parts. His mother, Ann Coghlan, does not defend his action, but she is far more upset about the school's intervention in an incident that she feels falls squarely within her purview. "This happened off school grounds, out of school time, on a weekend," said Ms. Coghlan, who plans further appeal of her son's suspension. "It's up to me to discipline Ryan for what he does at home. That's my job as a parent." Liverpool school officials say they were obliged to act under federal antidiscrimination laws requiring schools to maintain an atmosphere that is not sexually hostile. "This girl, understandably, was scared by the phone message, and worried about being around the boy who left it," Dennis O'Hara, the school district's lawyer, said. "Under federal law, we are liable if we have a sexually hostile school environment. And state law clearly supports our right to suspend students whose off-campus misconduct may cause problems in school." But the authority of schools is often challenged. In Connecticut last month, a state judge said a 1995 law giving schools the power to expel students whose conduct off school grounds violates their policies and "is seriously disruptive of the educational process" -- a typical standard for such laws -- was unconstitutionally vague. The court overturned the expulsion of a Thomaston High School student, Kyle P. Packer, who had been arrested for possession of marijuana. The Thomaston superintendent, George Counter, defended the law. "If there's gang violence or a drug bust or a shooting at the mall," he said, "and the student can walk back in the door Monday morning as if nothing happened, it sends kids the wrong message. We need discretion to decide what the response should be, depending on how serious the offense is, how it's going to affect things at school and whether the kid is one who's always in trouble." In Florida, an appeal has been filed on behalf of Zachary Moser and Marc Crawley, two St. Petersburg High School students who were suspended last year after they left school early in the morning to smoke marijuana and on their return were confronted by school officials, who had been tipped off to their activities. "These boys did something in the privacy of their homes," their lawyer, Meredith Wester, said. "One of them came to school two and a half hours after smoking, the other one five hours after smoking. There was no evidence that they were under the influence. How far should this go? If a student has a beer at home one night, can they be suspended when they get to school the next day?" In White Plains, N.Y., last fall, Elana Nightingale, a 16-year-old who is a photo editor on the White Plains High School newspaper -- and a smoker -- refused to sign a code of conduct under which students who use or possess tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, cocaine or steroids are automatically suspended from participating in sports or other extracurricular activities. The policy, originally written so broadly that it would cover even students who sipped Communion wine, said, "These standards of behavior are in effect both in and out of school, including 24 hours/day." With help from the local civil-liberties union, Ms. Nightingale won modifications in the policy, including the right of students with "principled" opposition to instead sign a statement acknowledging that they have read the rules. "It's a delicate balance," said Ann Majestic, a North Carolina lawyer who represents schools. "School systems are feeling pushed more and more to extend their authority, but they worry that if they do it in one case, and parents see that their authority extends beyond the school grounds, they will become responsible -- and liable -- for everything that happens outside. You can't police everything. I tell my clients that they have to be able to show how the outside behavior directly affects what happens in school. That requires the exercise of some judgment, but I think it's a good standard." In the 9,200-student Liverpool district bordering Syracuse, N.Y., where Ryan Kellogg lives, the number of suspensions serious enough to warrant a hearing -- any in which a suspension longer than five days is considered -- doubled in the last four years, to about 135 last year. "It isn't so much a change in our policies; it's that we're dealing with worse student behavior," the Superintendent, John Cataldo, said. "We're having more problems with student-to-student interaction, as kids walk to school or wait for the bus. That's everything from a shove to sexual harassment to he-said, she-said problems." Most parents support the discipline policy, Cataldo said, adding that only a handful of suspensions have been appealed in the last four years, and that few students are suspended for as long as Ryan was. Still, Ryan's case has generated a heated debate, with extensive local news media coverage and television editorials against the school district. Ms. Coghlan and Carol Parrillo, another mother, whose 10th-grade son was suspended for five days in November for an off-campus fistfight, have collected more than 300 signatures, door to door, on a petition to the school board from those who "do not agree the district has the right to police our children when school is not in session." "In my son's case," Ms. Parrillo said, "the fight didn't happen at school, the other kid doesn't even go to the same school, we paid for the broken glasses and I just don't see any way that it affects school." In Ryan's case, Ms. Coghlan said she wished the girl's family had called her directly that weekend to complain, rather than go to school officials. "I would have agreed Ryan had done something wrong and had him apologize," said Ms. Coghlan, a respiratory therapist who works in a sleep laboratory all night. "And I would have grounded him from using the phone, which is what I did do. Or the school could have called me in to talk about it. But they have no right to punish him for what he does in this house. If they want to tell me how to discipline my kid on weekends, they can pay child support, too." Ms. Coghlan, a single mother, dismissed her son's conduct as a silly, though obnoxious, boys-will-be-boys prank. "Years ago, people made all kinds of phone calls, but nobody did anything about it because there weren't any tapes," she said. "Now everything's a federal offense and kids can't be kids anymore. As far as I'm concerned, this is just a one-time incident. And at 13, when they're just exploring sexual issues, the school's overreacting to treat it this way." But because of the federal law, sexual harassment cases pose special problems for school administrators. "Schools are really boggled about how they're supposed to deal with the kind of case where there's no physical assault, but there may be a boy making calls every night," Ms. Majestic, the lawyer who represents schools, said. "And I don't know what to tell them. Of course, girls need an atmosphere where they can learn, but that doesn't mean every immature teen-age boy making crude sexual remarks should be treated like a criminal." Ryan, a capable student, has had other disciplinary problems: even before the taped message, he had been suspended twice this school year, once for throwing grapes and once for breaking pencils, and had had a series of other run-ins for various forms of vulgarity and disruptive behavior that Ms. Coghlan described as minor. When the school called about the current suspension, Ms. Coghlan said, "I looked out the window and saw him walking around the backyard in circles with his backpack on his back." "But I had to go to work soon, so there was no time for me to get into it with him," she said. Last month, the school board rejected Ms. Coghlan's appeal of the suspension, but said that if Ryan got therapy -- and if his family authorized the therapist to discuss his progress with the school -- the board would support any modification of the penalty that the administration recommended. But Ms. Coghlan said that even if Ryan did go into counseling, she would not want it discussed with the school, and she remains adamant about pursuing further legal appeal. Ryan now attends a tutoring program in the morning and spends long afternoons at home. He mostly looks at his feet when asked questions about his phone message, his suspension, and the days he spends now. "I'd rather be back at school," he said. "I think I could do fine." Copyright 1998 The New York Times Company