By Peter Nicks
Contributing WriterThirteen years ago Haneefa
Olufemi narrowly escaped an arson charge after
taking a Bic lighter to a classmate's hair.
Today she is
the head of The West Oakland Violence Prevention
program that has helped stabilize one of the most
troublesome schools in Oakland.
The halls of
McClymonds High School in West Oakland are a lot
tamer now than they were four years ago.
"When I
first got here, this school was at the point
where we were able to drink, smoke weed in school
and have dice games," said Shimika
Breazeale, 17, now a senior. "You had people
having sex inside the school, wasn't nobody
caring. You had security guards selling drugs
outside the school, you had kids selling drugs
out of the school."
When Olufemi
arrived at McClymonds in 1994, she saw the same
things. So she set up shop and got to work,
employing techniques that she had been using in
several other Oakland Public Schools during the
previous 10 years.
Olufemi's
experience as a crisis mediator began in the
1980s after the arson charges were dropped and
she changed her life from violence to counseling.
That was when she became a student mediator.
Today, Olufemi
trains young students to be mediators, just as
she was trained years ago.
Each day she
holds two classes, one in the morning and one in
the afternoon. They are structured, but often
times they serve as informal discussions on what
is going on in the students' lives.
Curious
students often drop in, wondering what's going
on.
"I'm
trying to curb this stigma that we just kick it
over here," said Olufemi to a group of
visiting students. "What I'm trying to do is
give you an alternative to what you do. You can
cuss somebody out or you can handle it another
way."
The job of the
student mediators is fairly straightforward. They
must diffuse arguments before they get out of
hand. At the heart of their efforts is the
"I Message."
"The 'I
message' is basically like, we tell the person
what they did, describe it and tell them what it
made us think, how it made us feel and what we
need them to understand," said Cassandra
Tribble, 17, one of Olufemi's students. "And
when we say it in that way, basically they
understand you, they listen to you. They don't
interrupt you because you're coming at them in a
calm way."
Olufemi uses a
mixture of crisis intervention techniques and
personal stories to reach her students.
"My mom
had died when I was ten years old," Olufemi
told a recent class. "So I had a lot of
aggression, I had a lot of anger. The biggest
feeling that haunted me was I felt abandoned, I
felt alone all the time. So, when I felt alone, I
started up mischief."
That mischief
led her to a crossroads -- she narrowly escaped
an arson charge and decided it was time to
change. She embraced her role as a student crisis
mediator.
In her
students, you can catch glimpses of Olufemi's own
life as a confused, young girl.
"In my
ninth grade year, the first day of school, I got
into a fight with a group of girls and I was
escorted to (Olufemi) by police," said
Breazeale. "I had a real bad reputation to
where I didn't really care. I would fight
anybody."
But Olufemi
took Breazeale in, just like the thirty or so
other students she trains each year.
Crisis
mediation has provided an educational experience
for many of her students, many of whom plan to go
on to college.
But it is also
not without its dangerous moments.
"The most
drastic conflict we had was with a young
man," said Breazeale. "I'm not going to
mention his name because it's supposed to be
confidential. He had a fight with one of the boys
on the corner down there and the boy was talking
about wanting to shoot him."
Breazeale and
other student mediators worked on the case. It
involved sitting both sides down and discussing
the incident.
"I think I
handled it quite well," Breazeale said.
"It was hard work. We were here early that
morning until almost five o'clock."
Generally,
there are enough conflicts at McClymonds to keep
the student mediators busy. Olufemi monitors
disturbances and assigns cases to various
students. The students are then responsible for
meeting with those involved and using their
training to prevent further violence.
In addition to
her role at McClymonds, Olufemi is responsible
for coordinating several other programs,
including a mentoring program at local elementary
schools, a youth advocacy program and a parent's
awareness group.
But the bulk of
her time is spent with the McClymonds students --
and the students respect her for it.
"Haneefa
(Olufemi) is doing a great job. I told her that
she couldn't leave until I graduated," said
Delanor Ford, 15, a sophomore in her first year
as a mediator. "She will tell us, 'I am not
you, I'm not a teenager. But, I feel you.' She's
real. She can reach everybody, feel
everybody."
What Olufemi
calls her own "therapy" has had a
residual effect on the school. The dice games and
smell of marijuana are gone, according to
students.
"I love
them dearly," said Olufemi of her students.
"I see very strong young people who, with
the right guidance, with the right resources and
with the right exposures can have a very positive
impact on the future and also complete their
goals."
Even though the
program is a success, it is struggling for
funding and for support. When Olufemi was first
trained, nine Oakland schools participated in the
program. Today, there are only three schools in
the program.
The West
Oakland Violence Prevention program is financed
with a $175,000 grant from the Wellness
Foundation. Although the foundation has
guaranteed funding for the next three years,
Olufemi hopes that the Oakland School system will
give it the support to continue after that
period.
In order to get
that support, she believes the program must
continue showing that it is relevant in the lives
of students.
"We need
to get out there, show that we're really doing
something," said Olufemi. "We need to
show that it is making a positive impact."
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