By Michael E. Miller
By Ryan Yousefi
By Kyle Munzenrieder
By Sabrina Rodriguez
By Michael E. Miller
By Carlos Suarez De Jesus
By Luther Campbell
By Kyle Munzenrieder
While meeting with my son and his academic counselor in her office, a tall, thin, well-dressed man stood outside the open door and proceeded to bellow commands at a subordinate. Not only was the noise a disruption, but the arrogant, berating tone added tension to all who were present.
My significant other, who takes an active interest in my children's lives, rose from his chair, walked to the source of the interruption, and firmly requested that he take his conversation elsewhere as there was a conference in session. The man took two steps toward the main office and continued his harangue. My significant other closed the door, shutting out the noise and allowing us to concentrate on the issue at hand: my son's education. Hours later when my son came home, I asked him who that loud man was. "That's our principal, Mr. Williams," he said.
Because of Mr. Kissell's article, I have found out my son was assigned to Ms. Major's social studies class as an "at-risk" student. Like several of the students quoted in the article, my son is an average student (maybe a little below average), not at risk of dropping out. None of his progress reports or conferences with teachers has mentioned behavior problems of a disturbing nature.
Today he told me about the change from Ms. Major to Mr. Wilson. The students themselves weren't told as a group they were in an at-risk class until they returned from spring break. To replace a semicompetent English instructor with a detention supervisor who belongs in elementary schools is an insult not only to my son, but to all taxpayers in Miami-Dade County who will look at their children's social studies grade and wonder if it means anything. My son has been cheated out of a year's worth of learning in a display of bureaucratic loyalty, and I am disgusted by it.
The unexcused absences and tardiness on his report card he explained as something to do with "lockouts," which I did not fully understand at the time. Locking a classroom door -- refusing admission to a student regardless of reason or degree of tardiness -- was inconceivable to me. He continued racking up tardies and absences, as well as punishments for them, claiming there was insufficient time to cover the distance he had to walk, particularly after physical education. He claimed that by the time he was able to get to class, perhaps a minute or two late, the door was locked. I thought he was lying. Consequently not only am I angered by this ridiculous policy, which again cheats students out of learning opportunities through, often enough, no fault of their own, but now I have to apologize to my son. Late is late, but isn't it better for a student to get some of the classroom material rather than none?
One of my closest friends has been in the Miami-Dade school system for more than twenty years. After reading Mr. Kissell's article, I asked my long-time teacher friend if he was acquainted with Norland's principal. When I mentioned Carroll E. Williams's name, I was taken aback by the stories of Yahweh connections and other matters. Who cares what religion or fraternal organization Mr. Williams may belong to from week to week? Not I. That is, not until the inevitable happens and Mr. Williams's benefactors come a-callin'.
Incidents such as those at Norland and Killian High prove dramatically that in all of Miami-Dade County's public schools, the time bomb continues to tick ... tick ... tick.
Virginia Key: The Naked Truth
Kirk Nielsen's in-depth look at the racial history of Virginia Key Beach in his article "A Historic Dip" (April 8) was very informative. Many of us long-time residents weren't aware that Virginia Key was the first local blacks-only beach during our system of apartheid.
But as any long-time South Florida resident knows, Virginia Key, from the 1970s to the infamous takeover by the City of Miami in 1982, was best known for its nude beach. The reputation of Virginia Key as a nude beach was so entrenched that a decade after the city took it over and banned nude sunbathing, people were still going there and stripping.
Within a month of the January 1992 arrest of playwright Edward Albee for indecent exposure (he was sunbathing nude on the northeastern shore of Crandon Park, across Bear Cut from Virginia Key), the last arrests for nudity were made at the newly established clothing-optional section of Haulover Park Beach.
Although those arrests were an overreaction by law enforcement, the results were positive. The charges were later dropped, as the arrests were made within a "place set apart for nudity," in accordance with Florida state law. The county began to see the popularity of nude sunbathing and its benefit to the international tourist interest in South Florida, and began a cooperative venture that is now our very successful and unique clothing-optional beach.