Brigitte Bowers: Every Fifteen Minutes a reminder of parents’ worst fears

When I taught junior high school English in the early 1990s, I included Auschwitz survivor Elie Wiesel’s memoir “Night” in my class curriculum.

It was a tough book for junior high school kids to comprehend, presenting both intellectual and emotional challenges that required careful guidance and instruction. But I believed the effort was more than compensated by the quality of the book and depth of experience for young readers, so I was determined to keep it in my lesson plans. I was relieved that another teacher, Michelle, also included the book in her reading list. Michelle was an excellent teacher and I respected her.

One day, about halfway into the book, my colleague greeted her students at the door to her classroom holding a ruler in her hand. As students entered, she pointed some in one direction, and some in another, simulating Dr. Josef Mengele’s infamous selection process.

In class, those who were deemed fit were allowed to speak and interact, while those who were fated to die were relegated to the back of the room, where they were to remain silent for the class period. Though I understood that Michelle’s intention was to foster empathy for Holocaust victims, I felt that instead the activity trivialized their suffering.

I have almost always been opposed to simulations of tragedy for this very reason. We can read and listen and try to understand what we might, but we will never really fathom the anguish of the victims.

That was my first thought when my son Casey told me a few days ago that he would be participating in Every Fifteen Minutes on April 1 at Buhach Colony High School. Every Fifteen Minutes, which refers to the statistic that one person dies every 15 minutes in this nation from alcohol-related traffic accidents, is a partnership between public schools and the California Highway Patrol.

It is a simulation that over a period of two days attempts to instill in high school students some understanding of the consequences of driving while impaired. The program includes pulling students out of class every 15 minutes during the first day, attending a night’s retreat, re-enacting a fatal car accident and attending a mock funeral on the second day. Those who are taken from class return later as the undead, forbidden from speaking.

My son’s role was to be a member of the undead. I had to drive him to school Wednesday morning and would not see him again until Thursday afternoon, as he would be spending the night at the retreat for participants.

Though he would be allowed to return to class as a symbol of someone who died in an automobile accident, he would not be allowed to speak (which I suspect might be the reason he was selected by his teachers to participate) and would wander the halls and inhabit his classrooms dressed in black and made up to look like the undead.

Frankly, I was at first not very keen on the whole idea. For one thing, I didn’t believe students would take the re-enactment seriously. I knew his brother would not. He would see the whole scenario as an opportunity to try to trick his brother into breaking character.

Second, the statistic of one person dying every 15 minutes isn’t really accurate. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the correct statistic is one fatality every 50 minutes.

But I do not care to quibble about statistics. One drunken-driving death every millennium is too many, as far as I’m concerned. And, while the 15-minute statistic may be open to challenge, another one from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration is more reliable – alcohol is involved in about 30 percent of teenage driving accidents.

And there is no question that, among American teenagers, motor vehicle accidents are the leading cause of death.

But my main objection is the assumption that lessons learned in a re-enactment can affect behavior. Some studies show that, while Every Fifteen Minutes has a positive effect on teen attitudes in the short term, these benefits are short-lived and do not noticeably modify behavior.

Then again, some studies, such as one done in 2003 at California State University, Chico, found that as long as seven months after participating in Every Fifteen Minutes, students’ attitudes about drinking and driving remained altered, and that such students were less likely to engage in dangerous practices involving drinking and driving.

I allowed my son to participate, in the end, but not because I believe that Every Fifteen Minutes is a highly effective program. For those kids who are already engaging in risky driving behaviors, or those who really believe they are invincible, or those who will smirk as they sit in the school gym and watch the mock funeral, the simulation will have little effect.

But I do think it is possible that, after witnessing Every Fifteen Minutes, one kid at Buhach Colony might hesitate to get in a car with an impaired driver – whether that driver is himself or someone else. And if that hesitation saves that kid’s life, then the program has been successful. And so I let Casey participate, and I drove him to school on the first morning of the enactment so that he could be a member of the undead for 24 hours.

And then, I found myself feeling overwhelmed with sadness as I pulled out of the school parking lot. Thinking about Every Fifteen Minutes, and seeing my son involved in it, reminded me of the kids I’ve known who died, who were the personal stories behind those national statistics.

Later that day, a police chaplain arrived at my home to notify me that my son had been in an accident. This was an expected part of the program.

“You’re from the high school,” I said by way of greeting, and then we exchanged some information.

He gave me his card and told me to call him if I had any questions. “I know this can be emotional sometimes,” he said as he headed back to his car.

“It’s not anything I don’t think about every Friday and Saturday night,” I said and smiled. I waved as he drove away.

And then I thought, What if this was real? And that feeling I had in the parking lot returned.

The cynical side of me wanted to retch a bit at the oversentimentality of it all, but I couldn’t quite muster up the snide attitude. Some years ago, I ran into a previous female student from a high school where I once taught. It had been about 15 years since she had graduated. She was married, raising children, tending to her career and ambitions.

She had been in the same class as the cheerleader, student body secretary and star student who had died in a drunken-driving accident during her senior year. After chatting with my former student, I walked away and suddenly remembered the one who died. That should have been her, too, I thought. That’s the life she should have had.

It is possible that for Casey, Every Fifteen Minutes is little more than an opportunity to break up the tedium of a typical school day, though I hope the simulation will instead be a cautionary story he carries with him for a long time.

For me, however, and I believe for other parents, too, it is a reminder of our worst fear, the one we pray we will never fully comprehend.

This story was originally published April 3, 2015 at 11:00 AM with the headline "Brigitte Bowers: Every Fifteen Minutes a reminder of parents’ worst fears."