Over the last week, I was able to speak to three young people no longer in school, having dropped out of three different high schools within a 50-mile radius of Camden. Please note that all names of the students have been changed to protect their identity.

Zach turns 18 in May. He left school right before Thanksgiving vacation this past year when the principal told him that he was no longer welcome in school. Zach, by his own admission, is no cupcake. He has tested the patience of teachers and administrators for most of his academic life. Once on medication for ADD, he could no longer stand the dry mouth and irritability Adderil gave him so he stopped and “kinda slows down with a joint or two.”

“The school hates me because they say I am a 'pothead,' citing that the health teacher pointed to him in class one day and said 'Zach can come up and teach the unit on how drugs can screw you up,'" he said. "When my parents called the principal, they were told it was only meant as a joke.”

“Look, I know I shouldn’t be smoking pot, but I have never smoked on school property and have never sold a joint in my life,” Zach said. “Once you get targeted by the system, it’s all downhill from there."

Zach states that he lives with his mom who works at one of the box stores. He works part-time at a local grocery store, never misses an hour of work and works part-time as a sternman on a lobster boat.

“I don’t regret quitting,” Zach said. “The principal is a pr---. Period." Zach quietly states that, almost as if this statement is a given. “What will I do without a high school diploma you ask?” Well, I make good money, will go to Adult Ed and get my degree without all the Mickey Mouse horses--- and name-calling I got at my high school.”

Brianna is a different story. She has struggled with school since day one. In and out of special education, Brianna drew the line in her junior year and refused to go to special education classes again.

“The other kids called me a ‘tard,’ and when I went into a regular English class, the teacher told me in front of the other kids that 'this class is an honors class, Brianna, and this work is way over your head,'" she said, through tears. “I told her to go f--- herself and I got suspended. She should have been the one suspended for telling me I was too stupid for her class. Look, I got my driver’ license, I work 20 hours a week at Walmart and I think I will pass the GED in July when I take it. Then, I want to go into the army and travel, learn to be a cook and get away from this snobby little town.”

Teddy is a soft-spoken young man of 16. He clearly tells you that he is gay, and just as quickly tells you that high school is no place for a gay boy.

“Oh, they tell you that you are safe in school," he said. "They even had a gay group for me to join and I did, but the jocks rule the friggin' place and being gay was the death of my social life in school. I was even on the basketball team for a couple of weeks and could have started, but the other guys treated me like I had leprosy. Even other gay kids avoided me because I was ‘out’ and the other kids seemed to avoid me. I think they must have thought it was catching. I had a lot of talks with the assistant principal and he said I should have expected the taunting saying, 'it was your choice to let people know you are gay and people have to live with the consequences of their choices.'"

“This guy is fat, bald, makes faces at you as if he just ate dog poop and I pictured him sterilizing the chair with Lysol after I left,” Teddy said, with little attempt to hide his scorn.

There was no Waterloo moment for Teddy in his decision to quit school.

“Look, if you do the math and calculate that about l0 percent of the population is gay, there are about 60 kids in this school that will someday wake up and be just like me," he said. "But, they either are in denial or living a closeted life out of fear."

Teddy plans on moving to Portland, live with a relative and attend a new charter school that is about to open.

“I know I am smart," he said. "I know who I am and I know that I am not going to tolerate the overt and not so overt verbal abuse and nasty behavior from other kids. And, I am never going to let another teacher make me feel dirty or evil for my gender identification. I feel sorry for all of them, I really do. It must be awful to have to define yourself within such a narrow band that there is no room for others in your life. And, they call themselves ‘educated.’"

William Shuttleworth has been an educator for over 40 years, works part time as the superintendent of Monhegan, serves on the Maine Charter School Commission and has a private consulting practice for families and students who need advocacy support. He can be reached at wshuttleworth@hotmail.com

More columns by William C. Shuttleworth

William C. Shuttleworth: Caution, school may be dangerous for your child

Drugging kids for their own good

Every town is Newtown

William C. Shuttleworth: An open letter to Governor Paul LePage