ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, November 6, 1996 TAG: 9611060045
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A-3 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: DENVER
SOURCE: STEVEN K. PAULSON ASSOCIATED PRESS
TO QUIT JOE SANDOVAL'S high school, you have to sign a disclaimer admitting you know you'll lack the skills needed for a good job.
Joe Sandoval grabs a computer printout and dashes to his car. ``Come on,'' he says excitedly, ``we have a hot lead.''
Gunning the engine of his polished, lime-green 1977 Chevelle, he speeds through the back streets of Denver, pressing his search.
He is not looking for a criminal or a missing person, at least in the conventional sense. Sandoval is the principal of Denver's North High School; a student, Isabel Godoy, is in danger of dropping out.
And Sandoval won't give up without a fight.
* * *
It started when Denver Public Schools notified Sandoval that his school had the worst dropout rate of the city's 10 public high schools - 561 dropouts in a student body of about 1,800.
North High is an inner-city school, with the problems of such schools. For five years, Sandoval has been its principal, taking an activist approach he calls ``management by sampling the soup.''
Several years ago, he set up a Welcome Center to provide after-school education for students having problems. But it wasn't enough.
He drew up a game plan to cut the dropout rate by two-thirds, to 200 this year. Among other things, it includes intensive counseling of the 200 students considered most likely to quit school.
The centerpiece is a certificate of failure - an ``anti-diploma.''
Students who decide to drop out must appear in Sandoval's office with a parent or guardian. When it comes Ray Gonzales' turn, he stares in disbelief at the paper that Sandoval asks him and his mother to sign.
``The undersigned guardian and student accept full responsibility for the listed student being a high school dropout. By signing this disclaimer, I realize that I will not have the necessary skills to survive in the 21st Century,'' the form says.
There is a two-column list of those skills - reading, writing, arithmetic, problem-solving, responsibility, leadership. And there is a warning that a dropout like Gonzales could expect to earn an average $585 a month without a diploma, half of what he would have earned with one.
Accompanying the form is a ``Certificate of Dropping Out.'' There is a space for Ray's name.
``I knew I had a choice - go back home or get a GED [high school equivalent diploma],'' he says. ``There was no way I was going to sign that form.''
Carolina Valenzuela feels that way. She missed three weeks of school when she went to Mexico. A new program, which divides the year into quarters, will allow her to accumulate credits during other quarters to graduate. Carolina will get another chance.
So far, four students have been offered the anti-diploma. All declined, deciding instead to sign a form promising to stay in school.
* * *
Sandoval is 50 years old, a veteran of the Vietnam War. He is not a man who is easily deterred. He goes door to door, searching for Isabel Godoy, and hits pay dirt.
The girl's mother wipes sleep from her eyes. Sandoval explains that her 16-year-old daughter hasn't been to class in weeks.
``She's not in school? She must be,'' she said. ``I work at night cleaning offices, and I don't get to see my daughter. By the time I get off work, she's already at school.''
She thanks Sandoval for his concern and his anti-dropout program, and promises to bring her to school for a conference.
``I want my daughter to study well. I want her to get a diploma, so she can find a better job. She wants to go to college, too.''
Sandoval departs. Moments later, he slams on the brakes.
``Isabel! Yes, you. I want to see you in my office, now!'' he shouts into a group of students in front of a small shop, two blocks from school.
A small, pretty girl looks up in surprise. ``I went to school today,'' pleads Isabel.
``Yes, but you didn't go to class, did you?'' Sandoval says, accusingly.
Back in his office, Sandoval summons staff members to work with Isabel and her mother on a plan to keep Isabel in school.
Isabel decides to return to her regular classes. ``I want to go to school,'' she says. ``I want to get a good job.''
Isabel, Carolina, Ray - all of them are back in classes, at least for now. But Sandoval does not proclaim them as success stories.
``Not until they graduate,'' he says, sighing. ``It doesn't mean anything unless they graduate.''
LENGTH: Medium: 89 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: AP. Would-be dropouts in Denver say North High Schoolby CNBPrincipal Joe Sandoval's ``anti-diploma'' kept them in school.