Keeping track of the truants

Sarah is 12 years old but looks seven. She is slightly built and very pretty, with baby blue eyes and a wide, cheeky grin. She is also filthy, her hair is crawling with lice and her eyes are ringed with smeared, black mascara. When York Truancy Watch patrol found Sarah - not her real name - yesterday morning she was sitting on the pavement outside a shop in Acomb, wrapped tightly in a dirty, frayed coat and compulsively chewing her nails.

Education social worker Gaynor Norris sat on the ground beside her, with PC Jon Palmer by her side in case Sarah decided to run away.

But she showed no interest in running away. In fact, she showed little interest in anything at all.

"I just don't care," was her pitiful stock reply to almost all of Gaynor's questions, closely followed by: "I'm not going back to school, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

She soon discovered, however, that there is. Social workers are not allowed by law to pick up truants - they are not even permitted to approach them - but police officers can.

Truancy Watch is a partnership between the two: PC Palmer approaches the children, Gaynor talks to them and offers them a lift back to school or home, then, if they refuse, PC Palmer puts them in the car - "kicking and screaming if necessary" - and escorts them back to school.

In Sarah's case, after ten minutes of determined but unsuccessful cajoling by Gaynor, PC Palmer stepped in, took a firm grip on her coat collar and led her to their unmarked car.

Luckily, this time there was no kicking, no screaming and no fuss.

"Most of them are too scared to put up a fight," said PC Palmer. "It's frightening for a kid to be picked up by the police. They might kick off with a social worker, but when they see a uniform they are more likely to cry than fight back."

Yesterday, the patrol caught up with five children during a two-hour circular sweep of the city, taking them from Tang Hall to Acomb and back again. Three others made a dash for it as PC Palmer struggled through the city's tricky one-way systems.

One of those whose name, address and date of birth were taken was a 15-year-old on his way to a hospital appointment.

Gaynor checked his excuse, found it was valid and ushered him on his way.

Next came three 12 and 13-year-old boys who openly admitted they were nipping out to the shop without permission.

This time, after taking their details, Gaynor phoned their school to inform their teachers they had been caught and were on their way back.

"I'll phone tomorrow to make sure they are in school," said Gaynor. "I know two of them pretty well - let's just say their names keep cropping up again and again.

"There's no guarantee that they won't be back out on the streets tomorrow, but at least they might stay in school for the rest of today."

The last of the five was Sarah - the most difficult case of the morning by far.

She had not been to school for two weeks and her mum, teachers and social worker were worried that she had become involved with a man in his twenties who was taking advantage of her acute vulnerability. It's getting to the stage now when we have to consider taking her into care," said Gaynor.

"Maybe if we can get her right out of the city, away from any unfortunate influences, we might just be able to break the cycle.

"With a kid like Sarah, it's not just a matter of getting her back in school, it's a matter of getting to the bottom of the problem, finding out what is making her truant, and helping her to put her life back on track."

And that really is the crux of Truancy Watch. It is not simply about getting children behind desks, it is about making sure they are safe and that their home life is stable and secure enough to support them through school.

"We don't just shove them through the school gates and walk away," said Gaynor. "We follow up on cases, we offer practical help and advice, and we make sure the parents are informed and involved."

Unfortunately, however, a surprisingly large number of parents are not only already aware that their children are truanting, they actively condone it.

Almost half the children picked up by Truancy Watch are with their parents. Their excuses range from dental appointments to shopping trips, but all have one thing in common: they have not informed the school.

"Some are ignorant of the procedures, even though a quick phone call is all that's needed, but most just don't seem to think that it matters," Gaynor explained. "It makes our job really difficult when the message kids are getting from their parents is that it's OK to have a day off school."

'You have to be diplomatic when approaching kids with parents," said PC Palmer. "You can't go in all guns blazing, making accusations. You don't want to wind them up, you just want them to learn by their mistake and get their kids back into school."

Truancy Watch patrols the city three of four times a month from 10am to 3.30pm, usually picking up between six and ten children a day.

"We used to patrol the city centre, but kids soon realised they were likely to get caught if they hung around the shops and gave it up as a bad job," said PC Palmer. "Crime figures in the city centre plummeted as a result."

This doesn't mean that all truants are up to no good: some are avoiding school to avoid confronting more deep-seated problems.

Which brings us back to Sarah.

When Gaynor and PC Palmer leave her, she is safely back in school in the care of her support teacher.

On her way out, Gaynor offers to meet up with Sarah again on Friday for a chat over a burger and a milkshake - her treat.

But the 12-year-old now seems to have shut down completely. Her face is bereft of expression, she refuses to make eye-contact and stays resolutely silent and motionless, apart from the compulsive nail biting.

"She'll probably be straight back out on the streets again this afternoon," says Gaynor as she heads back to the office to grab a sandwich before the afternoon patrol.

"But at least now she knows that we will be back again too."

Updated: 10:42 Thursday, June 27, 2002