For some teenagers, the season's promise of lazy days is dispelled by the harsh reality of extended time in the classroom to make up for failing grades.

11:42 AM EDT on Monday, July 12, 2004

BY TOM MOONEY
Journal Staff Writer

WOONSOCKET -- Not far from the high school's welcome sign -- "School resumes Aug. 31" -- Chris Brown's dad drops him off and the 14-year-old descends a deserted schoolyard hill, headed for a side door.

He tromps across withered grass in heavy black boots. Metal rings dance from the pockets of his baggy shorts. His shaggy hair sways in front of drowsy eyes as hands dredge the pockets of his sweatshirt.

His presence here on this summer morning shapes an incongruous image:

Most teens aren't supposed to be heading for school in July.

Journal photo / Bob Thayer Chris Brown, 14, of North Smithfield, trudges uphill to the summer school entrance at Woonsocket High School for another morning of algebra.

They're on their way to the lake, slipping wet nuggies in their sister's ear. Or riding their bicycles to a buddy's house with a new video game in their backpack. Or pining with their beach blanket confidants for that lifeguard with perfect teeth.

But for some teens like Chris, summer's promises -- of time suspended and benchmarks more meaningful than birthdays -- were short-circuited by a form letter.

It arrived in Chris's North Smithfield home soon after the regular school year ended: You failed algebra 1, his school guidance counselor reported.

He recommended summer school.

"The note said I didn't have to go to summer school but my parents said 'You are going,' " Chris says.

It is 7:30 a.m., a half-hour before the first session of classes. A few more students drift toward the door with the enthusiasm of sleepwalkers.

"And I'm grounded until summer school is over."

About 175 students, ranging in age from 11 to 18, attend the four-week summer program at Woonsocket High School this year. Most come from the city but about 30 percent of the middle- and high school-age students come from surrounding communities such as Cumberland, Lincoln, Burrillville and Blackstone, Mass.

Their towns either didn't offer summer school or their classes filled up fast and students such as Chris had to look elsewhere. Swaying in the balance was whether they moved up a grade in September with all their friends.

Journal photo / Bob Thayer Eric Tatreault, 15, of Blackstone, Mass., and James Berthiaume, 15, of Woonsocket, in algebra class.

Not all students can attend summer school. If their failing grade was below 60 or they had more than 15 absences during the regular school year, they're prohibited.

And it's not free. Woonsocket residents pay $110 for summer school. Those from outside the district pay $130.

As the 8 o'clock hour approaches, assistant principal Donna Valentine, director of the summer program, walks outside to greet the arriving students. Many are dropped off by parents and grandparents who are rushing to work.

"Good morning," she says warmly. "How are you today? Wonderful."

Jonathan Martin, 11, flies into the parking lot on his skate board, the first to arrive with a smile.

"Did you do your homework?" Valentine asks.

"Yep," he says.

Not long ago, summer school carried a social stigma and instilled gut-wrenching fear.

The impending doom of spending summer days sweating behind a desk rather than scratching your initials in the street with a chunk of rock, induced extra effort as the school year's end approached. If that didn't work, begging for salvation was common.

Times have changed. At least in Woonsocket.

"I had kids come in to register [for summer school] with their parents and it was like, 'Hi Mrs. V, I'm coming to summer school!,' " says Valentine. "I would have been so embarrassed if that had been me."

She greets arriving science teacher Ron Campano, who has taught summer school in Woonsocket for 25 years.

"Kids used to be afraid of summer school," he says. "Today you see the same faces year after year after year. Some of these kids actually look forward to coming here. Maybe it's because they have nothing to do in summer."

Many students know each other. "I have three or four kids in the same biology class and to them it's an extension of the regular school year."

Chris Brown says he expected the transition to summer school in a strange school "would be a little weird, but it turned out not to be."

On his first day, June 28, he recognized several other kids from North Smithfield.

THE BELL rings. Chris and the other students shuffle into the building.

Journal photo / Bob Thayer Josh Desaulniers, 16, of Woonsocket, on a windowsill, chats with fellow summer school students at Woonsocket High School as they wait for the first bell to ring.

Mr. Lemay's algebra 1 class is held this year in a science lab room. Chris takes his seat at a back table and slumps his head into the crook of an arm.

The other day he fell asleep in class, he says. Not just in class but during a math test.

His parents found out when Mr. Lemay sent home a progress report. They hit the roof.

That's when Chris lost his computer privileges, too.

He was tired, he explains. He had been up most of the previous night talking to his friends on the phone and playing "RPGs." No, not rocket-propelled grenades, he says. Role playing games like Final Fantasy and Dungeon and Dragons.

In front of Chris sits Eric Tatreault, 15, of Blackstone. He sports an orange-tipped Mohawk that seems high enough and pointed enough to penetrate the ceiling. Then there is his bandoleer of copper rifle bullets around his waist.

He's apparently already explained to his teacher, Michael Lemay, that the bullets are blanks but the ever-observant Mrs. Valentine nearly jumps out of her skin when she drops by on her daily visit and sees them.

Obviously, she says, bandoleers are not part of the accepted dress code.

The 15 students in class take a quick quiz to prepare for another test tomorrow.

Afterward, Lemay calls on Tiffany Mailhot, a 16-year-old from North Smithfield with braided blond hair and polished nails, to come to the blackboard and show the class how she correctly answered a problem.

Had she not received a 65 in algebra this year, the hopeful 11th grader would have been at cheerleading practice at that moment with the rest of her squad.

Instead she goes to the board, pouting.

Tiffany had learned her summer fate soon after finals finished. She was at her grandmother's, in Connecticut, visiting a cousin who was preparing for a trip to Australia, when her mother called, furious.

She, too, had just received one of those nasty little letters from the guidance department -- and had only a few hours remaining to try to register Tiffany for summer school in Woonsocket.

"I was so upset" Tiffany says later. "I couldn't believe it. I thought I did good on the final exam."

Thank goodness, she says, her friend, Vanessa Saulnier, failed, too.

"The first day here was really bad because I didn't know who else might be coming that I knew," she says. Her friend, Vanessa, who is 17, was on vacation. "I thought she might be coming but I couldn't reach her."

Journal photo / Bob Thayer Justine Theroux, 13, of Lincoln, left, and Brittany Carey, 13, of Johnston, listen to their teacher explain a math problem during a summer session at Woonsocket High School.

Now the two girls sit together in algebra, bearing their boredom best they can.

"It's awful," Vanessa says of summer school. "You have to get up so early and you can't go to the beach with your friends."

Tiffany says she had hoped to get a job this summer "but I didn't know if they would make me work in the morning and I couldn't do that."

Her cheerleading coach is concerned that she may miss too much practice. It could mean she's relegated to an alternate position.

Everything seemed so rosy just a few weeks ago. All her friends were signing her yearbook "See you next year." And Tiffany had every expectation that would be so. She was hoping for a summer job, and then along came . . . this.

The bell rings.

Tiffany and Vanessa and Chris and all the others file outside their classrooms into the sunshine.

Some kids will have to head back in 10 minutes for a second session of classes.

But Tiffany and Vanessa and Chris are done for the day.

Cars whiz into the parking lot to pick up these lucky ones.

Vanessa has a ride home. Tiffany nervously looks around for her mother. She wants to make the last two hours of cheerleading practice. She reaches for her cell phone.

Chris trudges back over the hill. His grandmother has come from Burrillville to take him home.

His friends, he knows, are passing these long days patrolling their favorite North Smithfield haunts on bikes or hitching a ride to the Emerald Square mall and loitering in air-conditioned comfort.

But for now he knows his summer afternoon will pass in front of the television, grounded still, watching The History Channel or "staring at the wall."