My Turn
Senioritis Has Set In

Every year about this time, this veteran economics teacher notices the signs of senioritis--everything from lethargy to absence. He proposes some cures.

By Darwin Ch'en

California high school teacher Darwin Ch'en proposes a three-point plan to stomp out the senioritis epidemic.

Here we go again. If you're a high school teacher, and especially a teacher of allseniors, you know it's that time of year when an epidemic of humongous proportions takes control of students. It's the deadly senioritis.

When students sit as stiffly as cadavers in their seats, don't volunteer any signs of life, and appear to be oblivious to everything around them, I know the contagion has set in.

Usually in late April but occasionally earlier, seniors display a uniquely morbid gray complexion. Their gait slows as they drag themselves through the hallways.

Very often, their backpacks follow, homework excuses from their parents peeking out from the untied and flapping tops.

The first and most recognized sympton of senioritis is the sudden onset of feigned illness. Conversations with parents may sound like this:

"Mom, I feel really sick today."

"That's okay, you told me you were getting good grades. You can afford to take a day off."

"Could you call in for me, please?"

"Why don't you call in yourself? If they don't believe you, tell them to call me at the office. Bye, honey. Get well, soon, okay?"

The mother smiles, kisses her ill daughter gently on the cheek so as not to become infected, and then rushes out the door to work.

The student then telephones the school to say she won't be coming in because of illness.

Oh yes, and this just happens to occur on the day of a biology exam.

Other symptoms come up. A bad case of lethargy sets in. Students stare into space, fail to follow instructions, lose or never gain interest in anything concerning school, submit incomplete work, and pretend ignorance.

"I'm sorry, I don't know," is the standard response, and then it's back to the lifeless state.

After a reminder he needs to pass this class to graduate, he smiles sweetly, "I'm sorry, I really don't know," then he returns to the hyp-nagogic state.

This disease does not restrict itself to a gender, or race, or intelligence. It's just there.

Recently, the National Commission on the High School Senior Year noted that the K-12 curriculum is often not aligned with college or the world of work, "and nowhere are these deficiencies more pronounced than during the senior year of high school.'' Students routinely ignore the high school's academic demands. Senioritis sets in. The commission hasn't offered any solutions yet, but I'd suggest three.

First, let's lower senior high classes to 12 students per class. A recent study lasting several decades concluded that smaller classes promote better learning. Individual attention increased and the students' ability to stay on task increased dramatically. Experts documented a statistically significant connection between smaller class size and closer student-to-teacher relationships and consistently higher test scores.

Second, we should institute a state-mandated test that would set a minimum score seniors would have to get in specific subjects, which here in California would be courses such as U.S. history and U.S. government and economics.

This would encourage performance in the state and initiate competition within the individual high schools.

States would gain status by setting a minimum, verifiable standard, while providing alternate programs for students who received low scores.

The last part of my cure for senioritis would set senior class time between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. (including time for physical education).

This would address several issues: Students would be awake and ready to learn in their smaller classes. Again, studies confirm that teens learn much better if their classes start later.

Latchkey students would no longer exist.

More importantly, university studies have determined students who are occupied during the hours of 3 and 5 p.m. are less subject to violence, less likely to engage in physically destructive behavior, and less likely to join a gang.

Parents, especially those who work, could breathe a little easier, knowing their kids are at school during these key hours.

All of these potential remedies are at least worth a try. Without some significant changes, we're going to continue to see widescale outbreaks of senioritis. It's time to act. Too many seniors are wasting their time ... and ours.

Darwin Ch'en teaches economics to high school seniors, at Capistrano Valley High School, in Mission Viejo in southern California. He's been teaching for 29 years.

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—Bill Fischer