Kids and the U
Children are the future." How often have we heard that phrase?
But at the U, it's more than a cliché, more than a glib
observation. It's a reality that forms the background to the University's
research, service, and teaching, a certainty that cuts across
and informs work in dozens of disciplines.
And not just on campus, either. In addition to the 49,000 University
students, the U reaches out and touches the lives of children
throughout the state--and around the world--with programs, services,
curriculum, and medical and technological breakthroughs that directly
enhance the lives of high school students, students in K-12 classrooms,
pre-schoolers, toddlers, infants, even children still in their
mother's wombs.
Over the past several months, the editorial staff here at M has
gone out on the road to profile a small sampling of thousands
of University programs and services that relate to children's
welfare. We've found it an exhilarating, often touching experience.
We hope you do too.
Young Explorers
The Jason Project
Every spring the kids arrive on the Twin Cities campus, ready to be explorers and discoverers. All year they have been studying for the expedition in their own classrooms, and now they are ready for the live Jason Project show in the auditorium of the James Ford Bell Museum of Natural History.
The Jason Project is a high-tech distance learning program designed to excite kids about science. It combines curriculum materials, Internet activities, and live interactive satellite programs for teachers and students across the nation and world. The Bell Museum has been part of it since 1990.
In the past seven years Jason has taken students, via computers and giant TV screens, to Yellowstone National Park and Antarctica, the Great Lakes and the Everglades. This year the expedition will be Back to the Ocean, with visits in Monterey, California, and Bermuda.
Now the Jason Project in Minnesota is taking its "next huge step," and it's "very, very exciting," says Amy Thiesen, project director at the Bell. Legislative funding of $1 million is making it possible for the Bell to take the program statewide.
The telepresence will still be set up at the Bell, but the live broadcasts March 16-27 will also be beamed into schools across the state. "The state has never done anything this big," Thiesen says. Bus trips to the Twin Cities are prohibitively expensive for many school districts, she says. Now Jason can go "to kids in International Falls who in no way could take a bus down here."
The Jason Project was started in 1989 by Robert Ballard, the scientist who found the Titanic, as a show that invited kids
to watch the exploration of the ship. Ballard's idea was to show students that science is fun. That first year, though, students weren't able to do anything except watch. "It was basically an exhibit that you watched on a big screen," Thiesen says.
In 1990 Ford Bell, the grandson of James Ford Bell, brought Jason to Minnesota. "That was the year they [Ballard and his crew] went to the Great Lakes," Theisen says, and it was the year phone line interactivity was added. An important part of the experience now is that museums are called so that kids can ask questions.
Ballard continues as the chief scientist for Jason, and he is on-site live leading the expedition that is shown on screen. Ballard has become a celebrity for the kids, who get a thrill when he waves at them or calls them by name. Other scientists on the team are "diverse in their backgrounds and personalities," Theisen says, so that all kinds of kids can identify with them. A few students are chosen each year to join the team as student Argonauts. (The Jason Project is named for the legendary Greek hero Jason, who led the Argonauts in the quest for the golden fleece.)
Thiesen hears all the time from teachers who say Jason has reached students they weren't able to reach before. "They'll say, 'I had one student who was failing, and he just opened up. He's getting A's and B's now.' I hear that every single year."
Teachers are given curricular materials centered around the theme for the year and written to meet national science and geography standards. Teachers can pick and choose what they want to study, she says, but "turning on the broadcast without doing the curriculum is meaningless."
Jason kids conduct their own field investigations. Last year, for a study on birds, they noted the birds they were seeing, entered the data, and compared notes with students in other parts of the United States and in Antarctica. The exchange happened the same place where a lot of Jason activities happen, on the Jason web page at http://www.jasonproject.org.
For class projects students may also create exhibits, some of which go on display at the Bell. "It's a morale booster for the kids to come in and see their stuff and know that complete strangers are looking at their work," Thiesen says.
Some schools bring their kids for overnights, including a night in the Bell's Touch and See Room and a visit with scientists from the University.
With the popularity of Jason, the Bell Museum has introduced its own program, Bell Live, that highlights Minnesota research. The first year's show was on the Raptor Center, the second on wolves. Last year's was on forests, and this year's will be on fresh water.
The award-winning program goes across the country, with sites in Alaska, California, Texas, Pennsylvania, among other places. "We know we have a quality program that's being viewed by others," Thiesen says.
For both programs, the people at the Bell draw on the expertise of experts throughout the University. "We're a real research museum with a strong university behind us," Thiesen says. "We try to look for avenues for different departments to help us and help the kids. Most of them are excited when they can do it."
4-H: Not just 'cows and cooking' anymore
In the middle of a crowded open building, some in the milling crowd stop to laugh at a rainbow-haired clown struggling with an unruly strip of wallpaper. In one corner a team of teenagers stare into computer screens, typing streams of code to create a Web page. In the opposite corner, beside a stage set as a 1950s diner, an exquisitely crafted rolltop desk earns a purple ribbon for excellence.
Welcome to a typical morning at the Minnesota State Fair's 4-H Building.
"People still think 4-H is all about cows and cooking," says Rachel Moldan, a 4-H member from Redwood County. "There are actually 70 program areas, from aerospace to zebra mussels."
That broad emphasis is intentional, according to Deborah Lande, a development officer with the Minnesota 4-H Foundation. "We have to offer activities that are relevant," she says. "4-H started around the turn of the century as a loose collection of programs aimed at keeping young people interested in agriculture and the agricultural life, so that will always be our heritage and part of 4-H. But family farms are becoming fewer, and we have to keep looking for what young people want and need within the larger context of developing future leaders and stronger communities."
4-H (4-H is the program's official name, standing for head, health, heart, and hands) is a nonprofit organization with 5.4 million participants, a national council, and branches in each state. Operating primarily through donations and volunteer help, 4-H clubs follow the national mission of building "partnerships with those who seek to involve youth in solving issues critical to their lives, their families, and society."
In Minnesota, there are about 1,500 4-H clubs with 250,000 members. The University of Minnesota Extension Service provides staffing, logistical support, and a pipeline for University research and expertise in each of Minnesota's 87 counties. The Minnesota 4-H Foundation offers fund-raising help and makes grants to pay for some of the programs. The Center for 4-H Youth Development, housed in the University's College of Education and Human Development, works to help ensure that 4-H programs have effective educational components, promote safe and healthy behaviors, and help youth feel supported and connected to their communities. Among its many roles, the center offers training sessions, does research, issues publications on effective youth development methods, and serves as an information clearinghouse.
"They try really hard to be sure there is an educational and service component in everything," says Moldan, who has been in 4-H since she was nine, the earliest age for official participation. "When projects are judged at the county fairs and the State Fair, they don't just look at how well you did it. You have to explain how you did it, what you learned, and how it served your family or community."
At 18, Moldan is one year away from 4-H's maximum age limit, but plans to continue her involvement as a volunteer once she is finished. "Most 4-H'ers who reach the state level continue to be involved as adults," she says. "I have learned so much from 4-H. I not only worked on projects, but I got involved in club leadership, working with all kinds of people from little kids to adult volunteers. Also, you have to be able to explain what you're working on. In high school speech class, the teacher said she could tell right away who was in 4-H because they're not as afraid to speak and know how to be clear."
Although Moldan says she has remained involved with 4-H because she finds it fun and challenging, 4-H alumni say there are clear personal benefits for the future. "It was the best thing I could have done in terms of helping me grow into a responsible and confident person," says 25-year-old Lori Will. "I went from being dragged to my first meeting kicking and screaming to loving it. This was a group of friends for me and we really looked out for each other."
Will, who now works with the Minnesota 4-H Foundation, tried several different program areas as a 4-H'er. "I first got involved in making clothes, which turned out to be some good, quality mother-daughter time," she says. "Later I tried photography, child care, raising dairy animals, and finally got into leadership. I was in for 10 years, and that's a long time to keep a young person's interest. I think these young people involved now will look back in ten years and realize how much they got out of this. That's why so many stay involved as adults."
Arbor Days
Planting the Parkview Center School Forest
Four years ago, classrooms along the northwest wing of Parkview Center School in Roseville had a clear view of Highway 36 and its access roads. Now, thanks to the efforts of the students themselves, they look out at a forest and gardens planted with over 450 trees and shrubs native to northern Minnesota. K-8 students at Parkview Center School in Roseville are learning firsthand about forest ecology and the environment by creating and managing their own forest on the school grounds through a partnership program with the College of Natural Resources.
To get the forest started, College of Natural Resources faculty and graduate students worked with Parkview students to establish "Green Teams," map the school grounds, learn about forest ecosystems, and plan the forest and gardens. Several local nurseries donated plants and the school held its first School Forest Planting Celebration in the spring.
A school nursery was established during the second year and every student at the school planted seedlings that would later be transplanted, either at the school or in other parts of the community. Parts of the forest have been specially designed to attract wildlife or butterflies, or to focus on native habitats. Students also set up a record-keeping system to chart the survival and growth rates of their plants, and they constructed a weather station and developed a Web site.
The forest program is now well integrated into the curriculum of Parkview Center School. In addition to the hands-on opportunities for learning about the environment and natural resources, the forest program activities have been applied by the school's teachers to curriculum in math, science, social studies, art, music, and language arts.
Jerrilyn Thompson is a research fellow in forest resources who helped get the program started. She says that the forest program, which has now expanded to involve several other environmental and education organizations, has become a role model for other schools on how to use active learning activities to teach children about the environment. "This program was successful because of the partnerships we formed," she says. "Each organization contributed in a way that made sense for them, allowing us to expand our activities way beyond the initial scope of the project. We could not have achieved all that we did achieve without them."
The ongoing partners have been the College of Natural Resources, the U.S. Forest Service's North Central Experiment Stations, the National Park Service's Cooperative Park Studies Unit, and Twin Cities Tree Trust. Other organizations have contributed funding or in-kind gifts such as plants. A Bell Foundation grant supported three U of M interns.
The James Ford Bell Museum of Natural History is an example of other organizations that have helped with one-time projects. The museum was involved last year in helping students and teachers at Parkview Center School plan a Youth and the Environment Conference that was attended by students from 10 different elementary and middle schools in the Twin Cities metro area. A total of 265 students and 60 teachers, workshop leaders, and volunteers took part in the day-long event. In commenting on the conference, one eighth-grader wrote, "It was weird! Don't take me wrong, it was a good weird. It was wonderful! This was the first time I did this but it was fun."
"Celebrations and special events have been an important part of keeping this program fun for students," comments Thompson. "They plan the events, and it helps them assume ownership of the program. And ceremonies such as the annual tree planting are becoming a tradition for this school."
Keeping kids from having kids
The teen pregnancy prevention center
When it comes to physical health, no time is better than adolescence. With ear infections and chicken pox behind them, and with menaces like heart disease and osteoporosis still decades away, teenagers are a robust group. The biggest risk to teenage health is behavior.
For teens, smoking, violence, and homicide are bigger threats than ever. And rising teen pregnancy rates now exceed those of most developed countries. The consequences of teen pregnancy are not only physical--with health risks to both mother and baby--but social, economic, and cultural as well.
Alarmed by teen pregnancy statistics, the U.S. Congress in 1995 mandated funding for a national teen pregnancy prevention center. It would be the 14th center under the auspices of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), and the only one focused on a single health issue. On October 1, 1996, the grant was awarded to the University of Minnesota.
It's a distinct honor, especially given that the state "has a comparatively low teen pregnancy rate," says Michael Resnick, who directs the center. What made the University appealing, says Resnick, a professor with appointments in both pediatrics and public health, is that it could promise "strong collaborative research aimed at identifying best practices in pregnancy prevention. There are heaps of myths about what works. This is a case for an experienced interdisciplinary group that can cut through the mythology."
The U's interdisciplinary research team includes faculty from the School of Public Health, as well as the Medical School and the School of Nursing, and even an industrial engineer from the Carlson School of Management. In the CDC's view, the University was also attractive because of its strong connection to a network of 12 community clinics linked with area and state health departments. And there's no doubt that the University's long history of adolescent research--including the largest studies done to date on abortion and adoption decision-making among teens--was a plus.
And just what is it that these researchers hope to accomplish? Identifying "best practices" is the first goal, and it may be the most overwhelming. As research has become increasingly clear that contraceptive knowledge alone doesn't prevent teen pregnancy, it has also revealed a complex profile of the teenager at high risk. "These girls are struggling in school, they're ambivalent about their pregnancy intentions, and they don't see many possibilities for themselves in the future," says Resnick. "We want to intervene to change their life course."
The entry point for this intervention, says Resnick, will be with the group that research says is at the greatest risk--surprisingly, teens who receive a negative pregnancy test.
"Half of these girls will come back pregnant in six months," says Robert Blum, director of the division of pediatric and adolescent health, and a member of the research team.
"Our current system of care leaps into action when someone gets a positive test," says Resnick. "They're assessed for substance use, violence, nutrition, home, and living arrangements. For them, we have a wonderful response mechanism. But we don't tend to use a negative response as a teachable moment. If a kid is ambivalent about pregnancy, a lukewarm conversation about birth control isn't going to work."
So Resnick and his colleagues want to test the most effective way to respond to this group, then educate and disseminate information to the clinics and caregivers who need it. Current field studies include testing how to ask sensitive questions about pregnancy intendedness in what Resnick calls a "respectful, appropriate, valid" way.
Beyond intervention and education--the focus of the grant--the researchers want to establish what Resnick says will be the most innovative pregnancy prevention center in the country.
"Cutting-edge intervention rests in the concept of healthy youth development," says Resnick. "We need to address academic competence, school-to-work transitions, and the kinds of knowledge and skill-building experience that will help kids feel more connected."
Resnick says it will be the only center using youth development as the model. Working with the community, the center will give kids 15 and under "meaningful opportunities to give to others by training them to be peer educators and counselors, will work with the schools to find each kid a mentor, and work with the parents to provide support," says Blum.
"We'll use this window of opportunity, then stick with them for three to five years," Blum says. "To do less is to fail."
Motherhood
STEEP helps young women become good parents
When Sheila describes her childhood, she doesn't mince words.
"It was crummy, alcoholic, and filled with drug abuse," the 25-year-old declares. Asked where she went to school, she'll tell you, "All over--Hopkins, Forest Lake, North High, South High, California. My family was always getting evicted from places."
Given Sheila's background, the expectation would be for her to continue the cycle of parental neglect and abuse. Instead, when she discovered--to her chagrin--that she was pregnant, she resolved to do what was necessary to ensure that her baby-to-be would have a childhood very different from her own.
"I decided that what I went through I wasn't going to put my kid through," she says.
For one thing, she stopped her daily round of drinking. She also began keeping a scrapbook of everything related to the pregnancy, including the doctor's report from her pregnancy test, wanting, she explains, "to do everything that wasn't done when I was a kid."
Perhaps most important of all, she overcame her reluctance to seek outside help and called the maternal support organization recommended by a midwife at Hennepin County Medical Center. Alone, and seven-and-a-half months pregnant, Sheila contacted Sharon Mergess, a STEEP (Steps Toward Effective Enjoyable Parenting) case manager at St. Martin's School in Minnetonka. The idea of attending twice-monthly group meetings with other mothers didn't appeal to Sheila at first, but then Mergess mentioned a program method that the young woman found overwhelmingly attractive.
Once a month after the baby was born, Mergess explained, she would come to Sheila's home and videotape the baby. While the videotaping is primarily a tool for Mergess to review mother-baby interactions with the STEEP mothers, Sheila saw it first and foremost as a way to record her baby's development, something, she says, "that he'll really like having when he's grown up."
Her baby, a little boy named Austin, is now 15 months old, a happy, healthy toddler filled with boundless curiosity. Since his birth, STEEP has helped Sheila discover a number of important things about herself, about motherhood, and about the world at large. Like positive reinforcement--the kind she receives from Mergess as well as the eight other mothers she meets with regularly--raises her self-esteem, which, in turn, makes it easier for her to handle stress. Like ways to control her temper so that, "I'm not yelling at him all the time, the way I was all my life." Like despite her dislike for meeting new people, she would come to love the bi-weekly group meetings so much that she has emerged as one of the group's informal leaders.
The program may even be having a positive effect on her work life. She has just been promoted to head cashier at the grocery store where she's been employed for seven months--longer than any other job in her life.
Like STEEP programs elsewhere, the one at St. Martin's was designed in consultation with Martha Erickson, the head of the University's Consortium for Children, Youth, and Families. The program is based on a research project that studied the bonding process between new mothers and their babies conducted by Erickson, Byron Egelund, and Alan Sroufe of the University's Institute for Child Development.
"STEEP is based upon the need for secure parent-infant attachment as the foundation for a person's competence and well-being later in life," says Erickson. The program differs from other parenting services because it enrolls women who, for a variety of reasons, are likely to face special challenges on the road to effective motherhood. And unlike other programs, STEEP does not charge for its services.
"There aren't a lot of positive people in the world, but there are a lot of them here," says Sheila. With the help of STEEP, she is learning how to become one of them. And in turn, that means her little boy will probably not grow up to describe his childhood as "crummy."
Walking the Red Road to higher education
Upward Bound Vision Quest
In the counselors' office at Four Winds school in Minneapolis, Ernest Briggs and Jessica Gordon fidget and exchange jibes and carry on like typical eighth graders. Jessica wants to go to medical school after finishing college; Ernest is into "something to do with computers." Already they are focused on the academic road that lies between them and the bright future they envision for themselves.
But in another sense, they are not typical. Both come from families where no one has ever attended college. And both are American Indian--Ernest is an Ojibway, Jessica a combination of Ojibway and Prairie Island Sioux--members of what has been until now the most disadvantaged minority in the nation, with the highest high school dropout rate of any ethnic group. And both are also enrolled in Upward Bound Vision Quest, a program begun at the University more than 25 years ago--and, like other Upward Bound programs across the country, partially funded by the federal government--with the specific goal of helping Indian kids like Ernest and Jessica go on to post-secondary educational institutions.
This past summer, Ernest and Jessica got a taste of what it's like to attend college. Along with dozens of other students from Duluth and the Twin Cities, they spent six weeks living and working on the University's St. Paul campus. While there, they worked on science projects (Ernest researched Lou Gehrig's Disease, Jessica diabetes, "because it's really common among Native Americans and it runs in my family," she explains), studied Ojibway culture and language, did book reports, and learned conflict resolution skills.
Besides the social opportunities the summer program provided, Ernest and Jessica most liked the science projects. Jessica did the bulk of her research in the University libraries or on the Internet, while Ernest enjoyed the chance to burn the midnight oil while working on his project.
"They let us stay up late before our reports were due," he recalls.
Vision Quest is not just a summer program but offers academic and personal support during the regular school year as well. For students attending seventh through tenth grade, Vision Quest counselors offer tutoring, study skills instruction, and other help. For kids in 11th and 12th grade, there's also career and personal counseling. All the assistance is designed to help students graduate from high school and go on to college or other post-secondary training.
Originally, Vision Quest was designed for Native American students only. Over the past 25 years, however, the program has been expanded to help students of every color provided they meet certain income and family requirements and attend one of the target schools served by Vision Quest in the Twin Cities and Duluth.
"In my mind there are three reasons why our program is unique," says Leslie Lilligren, Vision Quest's associate program director. "First, we're the only urban Upward Bound program in the country that serves two separate major urban areas. Second, ours is the only program that works with seventh and eighth graders. Early on, the Vision Quest founders discovered that if they wanted to help Indian students get to college, they needed to start helping them before high school. And third, we're the only Upward Bound program that targets urban Indians."
That last point is important, of course, because the majority of Minnesota's American Indians live in the Twin Cities or Duluth.
Donna LaChapelle, the Vision Quest counselor at Four Winds, has been with the program for ten years. "I see kids I worked with," she says. "I run into them at powwows and I visit with them. These are kids who went on to college and are on the way to making something of their lives. I know Vision Quest worked for them."
--Richard Broderick
