Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, May 17, 1994 TAG: 9405170146
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B-4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By MATTHEW BOWERS LANDMARK NEWS SERVICE
DATELINE: NORFOLK LENGTH: Medium
It doesn't look dangerous, this sunny Room 2 in Portsmouth's Park View Elementary School. It's dotted with clusters of children hunched quietly over number games and word books. And Jensen doesn't seem too concerned. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor and helping two boys sound out the words ``mat'' and ``bat.''
But Jensen and many other teachers, particularly men, see the classroom as a potential minefield because of the specter of child-molestation allegations. It's a fear virtually never considered a decade or so ago. But today's teachers worry about it more, talk about it more and take more precautions.
``It's almost like a shadow behind you,'' said Jensen, 32, who has taught for five years, the last three with kindergartners and first-graders. ``You don't want to be isolated alone with the kids too long.''
But at the same time, most teachers don't let it rule their lives. They say they can't - otherwise they couldn't do their jobs. And while they know that allegations against teachers, while often well-publicized, remain relatively rare, their concern is real. A mistaken allegation can be as damning personally and professionally as a conviction.
So every day they walk a quiet tightrope, feeling vulnerable and hoping they aren't tripped up by circumstances, misunderstandings or oversensitive parents in an age when child sex abuse seems to be a staple on the nightly news.
In Jensen's class, a girl grasps his shoulder, asking about construction paper. He must put his arms around a boy to help him with a puzzle. Boys reach for his hands, asking for a new learning game or how long until lunch. Jensen takes their hands and directs them to a shelf full of games, or to a map on the floor.
He still pats kids on their backs or puts an arm around their shoulders to congratulate them on an achievement. And when they want hugs, he responds - he just makes sure to bend way over to minimize body contact.
``You have to be aware of it,'' Jensen said. ``But you can't let it scare you too much so that you shut down from the kids.''
Of course, teachers aren't the only people with such concerns these days. They affect everyone from full-time day-care workers to twice-a-year volunteers in church nurseries. Even Santa Claus isn't immune. The Santa at a Hampton Roads shopping mall last year used a bench instead of a throne, and his helpers were instructed to seat children next to him. Most of the kids clambered up on his lap, anyway.
But teachers may be particularly sensitive, particularly those in the public schools. They're public employees, in the public eye. Children are sent to them by law, and the teachers have little say about who winds up in their classrooms.
``It does make you kind of cautious,'' said Maury Duncan, 42, a guidance counselor at Chittum Elementary School in Chesapeake who often must talk privately with children.
``I make some kind of effort to be sure people can see me if I'm with a child. I have a big glass window in my office, so anyone can see right in.''
At another school, Duncan refused to confer with students in his office until a door with windows was installed. ``I mean, that's how far you have to take it,'' he said.
Teachers learn early, even during their student-teaching days, to stay out of potentially compromising positions. To leave classroom doors open when possible. To avoid being alone with a student, or to have another teacher or adult with them if they must talk privately to or discipline a student. To keep their hands in their pockets and to watch what they say.
But, kids are still kids. And that means they touch and like to be touched. It's up to teachers to keep it appropriate.
``You don't have to touch kids - kids come to you,'' said Lillian M. Brinkley, principal of Willard Model Elementary School in Norfolk. ``Because they see elementary teachers, particularly women, as mother figures. You can't put a fence around you, because they'll come through the fence.''
Rudi A. Winther, assistant elementary principal of Greenbrier Christian Academy in Chesapeake, said the concerns her staff shares with other educators don't hold them back. ``I taught second grade,'' she said, ``and they're very huggy, and it hasn't been much of a problem.''
The real losers, some teachers fear, are the children. If educators are avoiding hugs and other contact out of fear it will be misinterpreted, it chips away at the warm, nurturing learning environment most schools seek.
``I think it's a shame, also,'' Duncan said, ``that a lot of kids who could use the attention and hugs are probably missing out because of the climate.''
by CNB