"I'd argue that while education will still proceed in spite of the cuts, we're failing to prepare these kids for life after high school," Arnold says. That, she fears, is the insidious danger of budget cuts. She also worries that, with 40 students each period vying for attention, she might miss that youngster like herself, the one who needs an extra push. Johnetta Smith was one of those youngsters. By her own admission, the 12th-grader is not the world's best student. She is popular and sociable, but her attention tends to wander. The high point of her day is her after-school practice with the Lancers drill team. But last year Johnetta surprised herself, earning a B in Arnold's biology class.

"When I started out, I wasn't keeping up, but she'd always tell me I could do better," Johnetta says. "She'd stay after class to explain things to me if I didn't understand. She stayed on me all the time." She rolls her eyes at the memory.

This year, in an advanced biology class so large there are barely enough seats for all the students, Johnetta is failing. "I don't know why," she shrugs. "When the teacher's talking, I just don't get it. They go over and over it, but after a while, it's like we have to move on. "

Her first semester grades were grim. The Ds in Spanish and geometry and F in biology are the worst she's ever received. She hopes to go to college next year to study psychology, and she knows she'll never get accepted at this rate.

She doesn't blame the budget cuts. The school paper, the Odyssey, regularly includes a litany of complaints from teachers and students, but the outrage comes almost exclusively from the teachers. Among Johnetta's friends, there are complaints about crowded classes and dirty restrooms, but mostly there is a sense of helpless resignation, of waiting it out until graduation day sets them free. She only knows for sure that school is no fun, that no one seems to care.

"It seems like people used to be there for you. Now it's every one for herself."