SULTAN — It took a newcomer with electric-blue eyes to see a way through.
After a Sultan High student’s death and multiple teen suicide attempts this school year, Don Grose reached out to a former colleague who truly understood the healing power of the written word.
Grose, an artist and performer turned English teacher, learned to connect to students while barnstorming stages around the world. Now, he’s helping them find ways to work through their troubles in his unconventional classroom.
The suicide attempts and the death of junior Madison Whiddon, 17, saddened the school of 550. Whiddon was killed and three teens were injured Nov. 12 in a high-speed crash on U.S. 2.
A Sultan man, 18, is charged with vehicular homicide. Prosecutors allege he was under the influence of drugs when he lost control of his car.
“It was a dark time and everybody was just throwing their hands up,” Grose, 54, said. “There was a visceral, gut feeling of ‘What’s next?’”
He sensed students were ducking for cover, trying to ignore fear, anxiety and sorrow until it went away.
His daughter, Asana, 16, noticed the same thing.
“They seemed to be scared to let you know they’re in pain,” she said.
The uncertainty hovered over the town of 4,750 with winter flooding in the Skykomish River Valley.
Counselors and teachers tried to help. Some students missed classes because they were too depressed to come to school, Principal Tami Nesting said.
Others took drugs or hurt themselves. Eating disorders, anxiety, family problems and homelessness added to the mix.
Grose wouldn’t stand by as teenagers tuned out. He called a co-worker from years ago in Long Beach Unified School District California.
Erin Gruwell had guided 150 students from tough neighborhoods to graduation from Woodrow Wilson Classical High School, despite long odds and a lack of administrative support.
Her teens wrote about their lives. Gruwell compiled their powerful stories into a book that was published in 1999. It provided the basis for the 2007 Hollywood film “Freedom Writers,” starring Hilary Swank as Gruwell.
These days, Gruwell runs a nonprofit that provides teacher training, classroom materials and scholarships. As part of her work with the Freedom Writers Foundation, she encourages students to improve their lives by writing their stories.
“She empowers kids to give voice to what they’re feeling,” Principal Nesting said.
Gangsters and drug dealers on the streets of Long Beach and nearby Compton might have seemed a world removed from the traditional timber and farming town of Sultan. Yet Grose saw a common denominator: students struggling to confront life events.
In his classroom, the veteran teacher challenged teens to lower their shields and write their truths to share with Gruwell. She arrived at Sultan High School on Feb. 25 to find Grose with a stack of poems, mostly handwritten on college-ruled notebook paper.
It was time to rip off the Band-Aid and start healing, said Kelsey Robbins, another Sultan High English teacher.
Gruwell got students to open up.
School counselors, Grose and Nesting chose 87 students to work in small groups with Gruwell after a school-wide assembly.
“We really targeted the group of kids it’ll matter to,” Nesting said.
They wanted it to be a day they’d remember for the rest of their lives.
Assistant Principal Scott Sifferman saw how engaged students were in the discussion, how closely they paid attention to Gruwell, how they seemingly forgot their cellphones for a spell.
Students shared stories, talking through tears.
They sobbed and consoled, held hands and hugged.
Gruwell told the teens their words are their power. Their words, she said, could help others with similar struggles.
That’s how her students defied the odds. Their “Freedom Writers Diary” resonated far beyond the walls of her classroom.
“They learned how to go through life swinging,” Gruwell said.
After connecting with the stories of the “Freedom Writers,” one Sultan High School sophomore wrote to Gruwell.
He described growing up in an immigrant family without much money. The 16-year-old wrote about being homeless and suffering the consequences of an adult’s drinking and gambling.
“It felt like a lot of weight was lifted,” he said. “Until now, I didn’t really trust anybody.”
By the last session during Gruwell’s visit to Sultan, almost 200 students wanted a spot in the classroom. She didn’t turn anyone away, letting them crowd around until she stood on the only empty circle of carpet in the room.
“This moment in this hot, messy, chaotic room with all the different hair colors is going to be my favorite,” she said. “This somehow, some way became a magical place where we all felt something.”
She asked students a series of questions and to stand if they’d faced certain experiences, to show they weren’t alone. One girl stayed in her seat when Gruwell asked if they were hopeful about healing.
A freshman walked across the room, pulled her from her chair and gave her a hug.
“If I can have hope, she can, too. I wanted her to feel like she was loved,” said Laurieanna Lafferty-Campos, a new student who made a friend that day.
Another freshman told Gruwell and his classmates that he wears black to school every day, hoping he won’t be noticed or bullied. Students have since started getting to know him, stopping by his locker and greeting him in hallways.
“I’m not going to feel so alone anymore,” he said.
Grose had a hard time in high school, too, and he uses that experience to relate to struggling students. During his 30 years working as a teacher, his background as an artist has helped him connect with “creative, marginalized students who often drift away from the ordinary,” he said.
He grew up south of Los Angeles in Huntington Beach, first learning fine art painting from his father. Later, he got into sculpture and experimental arts.
He performed in theaters and wrote plays. His interest in politics led to him singing and writing songs for a punk band.
Avant-garde performances took him to unlikely places, including underground art scenes in communist countries of Eastern Europe before the end of the Cold War. Along the way he earned a degree in English at California State University, Long Beach.
After making his way back to Los Angeles, he became a teacher to support his daughters, Nyala and Asana, now 19 and 16.
In Grose’s Room 201 at Sultan High, there are rules and lesson plans, but there also is an emphasis on creativity, lively discussion and respect for one another.
Textbooks are used, but students are encouraged to read for sheer enjoyment, Grose said.
“There is nothing more tragic than a classroom full of bored humans — both teachers and students alike,” he said. “I learned a long time ago from being on stage that if you are bored, so is the audience. So it is best to keep things lively and entertaining.”
Grose doesn’t stand in front of the class lecturing. He asks questions and lets students learn from discussion.
“The less I talk, the more they learn,” he said.
They also write about the literature they’re reading, such as Henry David Thoreau’s “Walden,” and how it applies to their lives. Grose encourages them to share from their journals.
“It’s kind of a safe haven in that class,” said 17-year-old junior Anthony Hall. “You can let it out and not be judged.”
This story has been modified to correct information about the education, life experience and classroom practices of Don Grose. The original version was misleading or inaccurate and did not meet The Daily Herald’s standards for reporting.
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