Brigitte Bowers: Is the school’s C-average policy alienating?

The magic number is 2.0 if you’re a struggling student in the Merced Union High School District.

A 2.0 grade-point average is a C, and according to the Merced Union High School District Athletic Participation Guidelines and Code of Conduct, to participate in sports a student must have a 2.0 and no more than one F.

The 2.0 GPA is also required to attend school dances.

Other district guidelines address at-risk students, encouraging “adult-student connections and activities to help students develop a sense of belonging.”

But the policy that stipulates exclusion if a student cannot meet the 2.0 requirement is almost in direct opposition to the second policy promoting inclusion – especially for the very students for whom a 2.0 GPA might be next to impossible to achieve.

Students most likely to drop out of school before graduation are designated “at-risk.” As of 2014, about 10 percent of Merced Union High School District students dropped out. Such students don’t fit in; they don’t buy into traditional education, and they don’t earn GPAs of 2.0 for a number of reasons – virtually none of them related to ability.

I know the argument for the 2.0 standard: school activities incentivize students to maintain or improve their academic performance. It is a reasonable theory. In practice it simply doesn’t work.

Another argument is that a student’s focus, above all else, should be education, and that participation in extracurricular activities should be an earned privilege.

But what if the district approached students from another angle? What if students were given an opportunity to become part of the school culture despite poor grades? At-risk students might begin to see school – and themselves – in a more positive light. Would that outlook help lay a foundation for higher achievement?

As a parent of an at-risk student, I have looked for the point at which things went wrong for my son. I do not blame his grades on teachers, administrators or the district. I do not expect any of them to save him.

But I do expect the district to draft policies that are sensible and not punitive. If a district’s aim is to “help students develop a sense of belonging,” it should not create regulations that make it impossible for disenfranchised students to engage in extracurricular activities. Instead, the district should promote policies that encourage students – especially those most at risk of dropping out – to become part of the school community.

My son’s experiences have served to reinforce those beliefs, making even more certain that students should not be excluded from extracurricular activities because of academic failure.

My son has enjoyed some bright moments of success in school, but most of them occurred during his freshman year when he joined the water polo team and discovered that he was a good defensive player. For a few weeks of practice, he was part of a positive community of motivated kids and caring, encouraging coaches. But he couldn’t achieve a C average. He was banned from playing, and though he still attended practices he found himself more and more alienated from the team.

Now a sophomore, he did not play water polo in the fall because, once again, he didn’t achieve a 2.0 GPA. It could be argued my son is allowed to play on recreational teams, such as the winter water polo team, regardless of grades. But by the time winter polo began, he was already disconnected from his teammates, who had played league games without him for two seasons.

Essentially, the 2.0 policy defeats the goal of helping students find their place in the school culture, a mission that is at the heart of extracurricular activities. If a student is told time after time that he isn’t good enough to be on a team, or attend a dance, then surely that message will eventually become part of his identity. Other students will believe it, teachers will believe it, coaches will believe it; worst of all, the student will believe it.

Several years ago, I wrote about my son almost being excluded from his junior high school graduation ceremony due to failing grades. It was a private topic, and I worried about exposing my son to ridicule, but I knew then that his situation was not unique.

There are other students in our high school district who, like my son, cannot participate in sports or attend dances because they are unable, for whatever reasons, to maintain a 2.0. Those kids typically have no voice on campus; they accept that they do not belong. By graduation day, they will have disappeared from school altogether.

I can’t help but wonder if being part of a team, or attending a dance, might make a difference for them.

This story was originally published March 21, 2016 at 3:01 PM with the headline "Brigitte Bowers: Is the school’s C-average policy alienating?."