When Whitnall High School officials in Greenfield decided to implement the use of breathalyzers at its senior prom, it sure sounded like a good idea. The idea of random checks of students who appear to be intoxicated should send shivers down even the most daring teen.
But, as with just about any policy move, there’s a problem. Policies just like this one miss one thing: Students are going to do it anyway. After all, that’s the reason school officials took this route in the first place.
Admittedly, school officials are in a tough position. The desire to curb underage drinking and all that comes with it is quite strong. No one can seriously argue that the effects of drinking — underage or otherwise — are universally accompanied by good results. And for administrators at high schools across the country, this is a legitimate issue of concern. Earlier this year, Whitnall proved to be no exception to such concern.
As the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel reported, Whitnall’s Valentine’s Day Dance hardly won over the hearts of school officials — as alcohol was the decisive factor behind several suspensions. It’s hard to find fault in the school’s interest in getting rid of alcohol at dances.
But breathalyzers? Seems like a harsh solution, but that’s precisely what officials wanted.
School Board member T.J. Anderson told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel the measure was worth pursuing because of the portrayal of the high school’s latest dance throughout the community. Mr. Anderson and superintendent Karen Petric felt the disastrous Valentine’s Day dance required this kind of “proactive” approach.
But proactive usually does not mean “guilty until proven innocent” in our society’s parlance. It should be noted officials won’t be using the breathalyzers on everyone who walks through the doors, only using them “randomly.” And if you were looking for the definition of “randomly,” I suggest you look up the term “probable cause” instead.
But none of this gets at the real problem. What’s bad about this is that the purpose of this program isn’t actually to curb drinking — it’s to be proactive about the school’s image in the public eye. After all, if they actually wanted to curb drinking, they’d be doing something other than this.
As the age-old maxim from high school lore goes: Students who want to get into trouble will get into trouble. And there’s no evidence that this measure will actually do anything to stop these kids.
Stopping drinking at the prom is one thing, but stopping drinking and its occasionally disastrous effects is another thing altogether.
The problem is that while this measure may curb drinking at the high school prom, it might shift others, who see a high school prom as the trivial rite-de-passage that it is, to avoid the dance altogether. This problem is the embodiment of a replacement strategy, shifting the problems of Whitnall’s prom to Greenfield at large.
Better still, students who feel that drinking comes at too high a cost at this dance might turn to more dangerous and devious plans such as illegal drugs. Breathalyzers can’t tell what you’ve smoked or snorted, making them ineffective in a battle against other potential evils.
Shifting drinking elsewhere upon the community and giving students cause to find other, less easily detectable thrills is hardly the goal of this measure. But this is precisely the fault of a policy driven by our desire for PR gains and not an actual earnest attempt to help students.
Students who go elsewhere and operate at the peril of the protection of their selves are no better off with the school district’s plan. Students who plan on going to the dance but subvert the process by using more dangerous forms of fun are no better off by this plan either.
And while it’s hard to not be sympathetic to the school district’s good faith effort to fix a budding problem, Breathalyzers can’t be the answer. Apart from Whitnall’s past Valentine’s Day dance, their plan has worked well for years. And if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Robert Phansalkar ([email protected]) is a first-year law student.
