Teachers on military bases try to create a sense of normalcy for soldiers' children

Hoisting signs and flags, third-graders belt out a rousing medley of patriotic tunes like "Grand Old Flag," "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue," "My Country 'Tis of Thee" and even the parody of Army grub, "Goober Peas."

It's more than a way to keep spirits up at Stuart Mesa Elementary School inside Camp Pendleton, the Marine Corps base in Oceanside. It's a way for parents to stay connected with their children. A "webcam" in the classroom enables parents to watch their children's performance via computer. In this case, the parents tuning in are Marines serving in Iraq and Kuwait. Approximately two-thirds of Stuart Mesa's 700 students have a parent deployed in the war against Iraq.

Due to the 11-hour time difference, the live morning performance is evening entertainment for the parents. When the students finish singing, they take turns sending individual messages via webcam. "Hi Dad, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday," says Jerome Roman. Priscilla Zauala tells her father she loves him and that she hopes all the Marines come home safely.

Like all those who teach the children of soldiers, third-grade teachers Laurie Benes and Margo Sappington, both members of the Oceanside Teachers Association, are doing their fighting best to help students cope with the stress and uncertainty that accompany wartime.

"We have been very blessed because there have been no casualties among our parents," says Sappington. One girl's father was injured in an ambush when part of his vehicle exploded. His daughter arrived at school crying, and received hugs from her teacher and classmates, as well as a visit from the school psychologist. Her father has since returned to Camp Pendleton and walks with a cane.

"My biggest fear is that something horrible will happen to one of our parents," says Sappington. "If this is the worst thing, I'll be happy."

Benes knows firsthand what it's like for tragedy to strike the classroom. Two students had fathers die in separate training exercises last year. But she tries to conceal her sense of dread and focus on the positive - such as sending messages of love and support on the webcam.

Teachers at Stuart Mesa say their role is to keep things as normal and routine as possible for their students, whom they describe as amazingly resilient. Students are encouraged to express their feelings in writing exercises like letters to parents and other Marines. When students break down in tears, the teachers are there to listen, give hugs and offer encouragement.

"We sit on the carpet and talk every day," says second-grade teacher Nancy Laing. "They can vent if they want to. And they can talk to me privately if they need to." Her students also keep journals, in which they can write whatever they want. "I don't read their journals unless they ask me to."

Second-grader Alyzza Hawks shows off a letter from her father; third-grader Stephanie King sings a tune for the webcam.

Unfortunately, the war is not the only source of pressure. It has coincided with state testing, she observes. "Maybe there should be a box we could mark if students have parents deployed in the war. We are going to do our best. But here at Stuart Mesa, the kids are more important than testing."

Some of the younger students are not fully aware of what's going on, say teachers, because their mothers don't let them watch coverage of the war on television. The students are used to having their fathers go away for long periods at a time, and say simply, 'Daddy is on a boat.' Others are more in tune with the reality of war, and show emotions ranging from sadness and fear to anger.

"Some of my kids have asked me, 'Am I going to die soon?'" says kindergarten teacher George Tabler. "Their drawings reflect their fears. One child drew a picture of her father with three heads - all of them looking angry. The children can't really verbalize what's going on, so they are expressing their emotions in the only way they can - through their artwork."

In Jacqui Walker's first-grade classroom, students create one-star flags during art. A parent volunteer tells the class that the artwork symbolizes that students have a loved one who is putting his or her life on the line to serve the country.

"I can hardly wait to drive through your neighborhood and see all of the one-star flags in your windows," says Walker, while students cut and paste their projects.

Letter writing can be extremely therapeutic, says teacher Jacque Swaney, whose second-graders are busy writing letters to the father of 7-year-old Alyzza Hawks. The students take turns writing to each other's parents, and letters written back by parents decorate the walls. Letter writing is something students are supposed to learn in second grade, says Swaney, who calls her students especially motivated.

"What would Alyzza's dad want to hear about if he came home for dinner?" asks Swaney. The students write letters about things they think he would want to know: Alyzza is doing extremely well in school; the class is learning division; the previous night was Open House at the school, and everyone had ice cream.

Alyzza beams with pride as she displays a letter from her father, which begins with the phrase, "My darling daughter." When asked to describe her father, she says thoughtfully, "He likes ice cream and he likes chocolate sundaes, like me. I'm good at coloring and my dad is not. He loves to write me letters."

The older children are more in touch with the reality of war, and discuss the effect it has had on their lives. "I used to read mostly comics and sports in the newspaper," says fifth-grader Brady Harrington. "But now I read the news. And I try to keep my younger brother away from the war by having him concentrate on the comics."

The discussion takes place during "Troop Invasion Math," where teacher Dave Stephens has students use newspaper articles and the CNN website to find answers to math equations tied to current events. His students look at scales on maps to determine the number of miles covered by the troops from Kuwait to Baghdad in both miles and kilometers, as well as how fast they traveled (miles per hour) and the number of miles averaged each day.

"I try to use opportunities to integrate math with what is going on in their lives," says Stephens. "The measurement of distance and time is a fifth-grade standard."

Emotionally, he says, the older students have kept a stiff upper lip. "They are tough emotionally, which may come from having a military background. They are very mature, and do not outwardly show emotions or disrupt the class. I'm proud of them. They've been thrown into a world where many kids have never been, and they have handled it remarkably well."