Play Not Spray

Back-to-school bells ring. Out come the pernicious chemical agents, the sprays, the poisons going for the germs, bashing the bugs--and assailing the students. Eyes water, airways clog and rashes appear on skins irritated by the spraying, slathering, bombing enemy agents that souse classrooms and turn playing fields green with toxins. As surely as the seasons change and school begins, these not-so-green and not-so-necessary attacks on pests hit our youngest, most vulnerable population at a time when their bodies and brains are rapidly developing. In Connecticut alone, 90 percent of school districts regularly spray insecticides without first warning parents or children that these nervous-system toxins will be used, a 1999 Yale University study found. And a host of rising childhood diseases from cancer to asthma has led toxicologists to look at the casual use of pesticides.

Now communities are beginning to shun these Mr. Mean-but-Clean ways of battling germs or fortifying lawns and to enlist more biological methods, such as ladybugs and praying mantises, to eliminate pests while protecting students. Following the examples of California, New York and Michigan, the Boston-based Toxics Action Center (TAC), a coalition partner with the nonprofit MassPIRG (Massachusetts Public Interest Research Group), has led the Bay State to pass legislation doing away with the poisons that fill our children's schools and schoolyards.

A petition seeking a Children and Families Protection Act, orchestrated by the coalition, attracted so many signers--more than l00,000--that the legislature rapidly passed the law, which became effective in 2001. The state legislature, sensing the popularity of the program, "wanted this victory for themselves," says Iris Vicencio-Garaygay, environmental advocate at MassPIRG.

By and large, though, the credit belongs to grass-roots advocates in greener towns and cities, supporters say. For example, Newton, an environmentally conscious community, was part of the feedback loop before the Act was passed, as were like-minded members of farming communities in the more bucolic part of the state, where pesticide use in fields is a concern of everyday life. Sarah Little, a parent and pesticide-awareness coordinator for Wellesley, Mass., and a zealot on behalf of the Act around the state in her off-hours, brought the topic of integrated pest management (IPM) to a panel at the Northeast Organic Farmers Association Winter Conference concerned with pesticides used in land and lawn care. Little told of pouring honey around the mouth of a wasp hive dug into the ground. A skunk came. The insects were toast. Other methods include vacuuming, traps, drowning and using silica gels that dry insects up, Little says.

The Act mandates that "the department of agriculture shall promote the use of biologic controls, integrated pest management, sustainable agriculture and other alternate pest control methods through education, technical assistance and research in order to reduce or eliminate, whenever possible, human or environmental exposures to chemical pesticides."

Chemical-spewn lawns as well as parks and fields used by schools also got a good licking in the provision banning pesticides used for aesthetics, or "just because grass isn't as green as people would like," as Sherry Ayres, Massachusetts pesticide organizer for the TAC, puts it. So did pesticides banned by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), as well as any synthetic fertilizers that use them, because they contain "known, likely or probable human carcinogens." Still another item relates to how chemicals are applied. "You can't use sprays, bombs or foggers, just baits, gels or strips that are not likely to douse children," Ayres says.

In place of such poisons, school IPM programs employ everyday common sense and strategies to reduce sources of food, water and shelter for pests in and around their buildings and grounds. IPM, imagination and good housekeeping are more effective than chemically based eradication, Ayres says. Such programs can also reduce school building budgets, since pesticides are expensive, she points out. Instead of acting after the bugs land, school maintenance workers are sent to fix broken screens or doorsweeps. "It's a win-win situation. It really is just common sense, and it protects children from pesticide harm," Ayres says.

Also protected by the Act is the community's right to know. If schools decide to turn to pesticides as a last resort (and then to only the least-toxic, by IPM dictates), the Act requires notification. Slips and leaflets go home ahead of time, alerting parents to where, when and what sort of treatment is planned, and explaining how to reduce childrens' exposure. The goal is to enable parents to become part of the process before there is a crisis. To make sure that the system works, activists struggle to establish a good community/schools connection and follow-up system, as well as a hook-up to the state. One recent MassPIRG victory: persuading the Bay State to stop spraying pesticides to stop the outbreak of West Nile Virus.

Still, the systems in place don't always suffice. While "the law encouraged the schools to reach out to the community and have parents, teachers and other concerned citizens form IPM committees," money is short and advocates complain of lack of state funding, says Vicencio-Garaygay. By and large, it falls on environmentally conscious parents and teachers to do the work of responding to the leaflets and forming IPM committees. "The bones are there but the implementation and enforcement could be better," says Vicencio-Garaygay. "Enlisting the parents really matters," Ayres affirms.

And enlisted they are, at the most fertile grass roots, where our children learn and play. While other battles remain to be fought--cleaning up dump sites, brownfields and still virulent pollution points--the call to make schools and parks "for play, not spray" echoes loudly. Beginning at the beginning of life must count as one of the TAC's soundest moves.