Alternative school ending 3-decade run

It’s time to pack.

After more than 30 years of giving teens respect, a place to feel accepted, and the support they need to stay in school, Lawrence Alternative High School is preparing to close its doors.

Students will return to their base high schools next fall where alternative education programs will supplant the alternative school.

With the last days numbered and graduation nigh, students roamed the campus Thursday. Some stepped outside to smoke. Others worked at their desks, finishing final assignments.

Many referred to this time as “bittersweet” as they ready for new horizons while reminiscing of the past.

The school has been a refuge for teens in need of an alternative to regular high schools.

Students call teachers and the principal by their first names.

If students don’t show up in the morning, administrators will call. And if a student needs a ride home in the afternoon, teachers have been known to offer a lift.

Students end up at the school for a variety of reasons. Truancy. Sickness. The need for more attention, a place where they won’t be lost.

Lawrence Alternative High School students Peter Leach, from left, Caleb Brotherton and Harold Fatzer chat in between classes Thursday. After three decades, the alternative school is closing at the end of this school year, and its students will be returned to their base schools.

“It’s kind of like a family here,” Lacy Webb, 17, said.

Peter Leach, 18, was midway through his junior year at a regular high school when he started to slip in his work.

“You just get so far behind you feel like you can never catch up,” he said.

He thought about quitting but went to the alternative high school instead. Now Leach is days away from graduation.

Webb sat at her desk in one of the school’s portable classrooms Thursday as she told her own tale.

She used to miss a lot of school. She felt like her teachers didn’t care. Her base school seemed unfriendly.

But she said the alternative school was fun.

A list of scholarship winners from Lawrence high schools. Also, in Monday’s Journal-World, look for a complete list of the city’s high school graduates.

“I’ve never come to school so many days in my life,” she said.

Arkisha Beasley, 18, arrived at the school in 2004. Beasley, who has sickle cell anemia, missed many days at her base school because of her sickness. But she liked it there. She liked the activities and the high school scene.

She didn’t want to go to the alternative school at first. To her, it didn’t seem like it was a real school. It seemed too easy.

But Beasley’s life only got tougher. Her home life changed dramatically, and last summer she found herself on her own with few people to lean on.

She worked to support herself. She struggled with her health. She became a foster child.

Looking back at the obstacles she has had to overcome, Beasley sees a childhood lost.

“I’ve never played the kid role,” she said. “I’ve always played the leadership role.”

But through the alternative school she’s made it. As her graduation date approaches, she said she dreamed of becoming a lawyer and wanted to start college this summer.

“I’ve been able to take all my negatives and turn them into positives,” she said. “All in all, I think it’s wonderful what these people do here. I wouldn’t be graduating without this place.”

It’s students like Lacy, Peter and Arkisha whom teachers and administrators will remember long after the school closes.

Of the current students, about 40 will graduate. Another 40 will return to their base schools.

Some teachers worry. Will the students adapt to the changes? Will they get the support they need? Will some fall through the cracks and drop out?

“I worry about some of them,” said Lori Stussie, language arts teacher, “but I think our students are pretty adaptable.”

Judy Juneau, the school’s principal for more than a decade, will return to work part time as a student advocate. She will work to make sure these students don’t get lost in the system.

Juneau has given her cell phone number to several students. She wants them to call her over the summer if they have any concerns or anxiety about the changes, she said.

She will be there for them, as she has been for more than a decade.

As she thinks of students, Juneau considers her own last days at the school. She meets former students every now and then. Some tell her the school changed their lives. This is reason to smile.

She’s been fortunate, she said.

“I had the luxury of paying attention to a group of kids who needed (it),” she said.