Audrey Gablenz stared at the state's standardized test on Tuesday, ready to prove so many people wrong.

If she could pass that test, if her friends could pass that test, it would show everyone: This was not a school for the slackers, the stupid, the kids who just want to get stoned.

This was her school. This was the Secondary Academy for Success.

"It makes me try harder," said Gablenz, 16, who enrolled in the alternative high school in Bothell a few months ago. "If you try hard for the school, maybe people will lose the stereotype a little."

Starting next year, all students must pass the four sections of the 10th-grade Washington Assessment of Student Learning (WASL) to graduate. That standard presents a serious challenge for the alternative public high schools that work with struggling students. Many of those students are starting from a disadvantage, years behind in their learning and fighting a real fear of failing the test.

Across the state, alternative high schools are rising to the challenge, using small class size, test preparation and school pride to prime students for the test.

Sometimes it works: About 80 percent of sophomores at Secondary Academy for Success (SAS) last year made the reading standard, the same as the Northshore School District average and a leap from the previous year.

Sometimes it does not work: About 20 percent met that standard at John Marshall Alternative High School in Seattle, a jump from the previous year but still below the Seattle district average of 55 percent.

The population at any alternative high school is fluid and unpredictable; students come and go all semester, some with more challenges than others. A school can do so many things right, educators say — and still its students' collective scores can show up in the newspaper that September, worse than the year before.

"I have nothing against raising the standards," said Lile Holland, executive director of the Washington Association of Learning Alternatives, a statewide organization of alternative educators. "But I am against standardizing everything so that everyone fits in the same little box."

The landscape of alternative education includes a wide variety of students, many of them in specialty schools or home-school partnerships. Holland is most concerned about the 13,000 students enrolled in programs for kids who have not found success elsewhere.

Nick Di Rienzo, a 10th-grader, says the best thing about SAS is "mutual respect between teachers and students."

SAS is one of those programs. This year's list of seniors includes a teenage mother who is enrolled in a nursing program; a boy with attention-deficit disorder who is moving into the construction business; and a girl who is now determined to become a Supreme Court justice but who was previously expelled from a traditional school for poor attendance. All are scheduled to graduate this year.

At John Marshall, different programs target a variety of struggling students. One is designed for teenage parents. Another helps children with their transition from the juvenile-justice system back into their traditional school.

The state's Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction (OSPI) is exploring WASL alternatives for students who do not perform well on high-stakes tests. Possible options include tests modeled after trade-certification exams; and a more sophisticated version of the senior project, which would give students the chance to show their learning even as they pursue a career.

Holland commended OSPI for looking at such alternatives. It is crucial, he said, that the state find a way to measure learning for students who find success at a different pace, one small step at a time.

At John Marshall, for example, the average sophomore moved up a grade in both reading and math over the course of a semester last spring. But that student came to John Marshall an average of three years behind in reading and two years behind in math. So even after that semester, many of them were still not at grade level when they sat down to take the 10th-grade WASL last year.

The scores are sometimes frustrating for teachers such as Leonard Quatrella, who believes the community does not understand the nature of the challenge.

SAS senior Melissa Chamberlain cuts a piece of stained glass as Ozzy Osbourne, on her T-shirt, keeps close watch.

"People look at the scores in the newspaper and say, 'What's going on with this school?' " said Quatrella.

In fact, he said, there is plenty of good going on. John Marshall has just hired a reading specialist and plans to hire a math specialist. And starting next year, students who test below grade level will go first into developmental classes, where teachers will bring them up to speed before they enter classes at their grade level. The hope is that students will be better prepared for the WASL when they take it in the years to come.

But there is only so much teachers can do: About 60 percent of the students at John Marshall qualify for free or reduced-price lunches; most of them stay for only a semester; many of them consider themselves failures already.

"We're trying to rebuild kids," said Joe Drake, principal at John Marshall. "It's a long struggle."

Substantial challenges

The struggle begins with getting students comfortable in school, educators say. Most are at alternative high schools because they have not found success elsewhere; already, they are anxious and afraid of failure. Often there are other issues that distract them from schoolwork, from family crises to substance abuse to homelessness.

"It's tough to teach them decimals when they're wondering where they're going to sleep at night," said Jim Geiszler, a math teacher at SAS.

Geiszler does it by working with kids at their own pace, giving them all the support they need to succeed. He also sets high expectations: Students do not get credit unless they have shown 90 percent mastery of each math concept.

Those tests are as tough as any WASL, said Geiszler — and also more relevant to the kids' lives. Only a small percentage of his students move on to four-year-colleges. So Geiszler has centered his math curriculum around what kids need to be successful in the workplace and at home.

"What I'm focused on are life skills," said Geiszler. "And I don't take it lightly."

As the program at SAS has developed, the expectations have shifted, demanding more discipline than ever from students.

Students who want to attend fill out an application, explaining what contribution they will make to the school. Their work is monitored closely, with staff reviewing their progress every 15 days. If students continue to skip classes, they are asked to leave.

"They're earning their opportunity to be here," said Holly Call, the principal at SAS. "And that really empowers them."

Jake Calvo, a senior, came to the school a year ago with mostly C's and D's on his transcript. He could not tolerate the "drama" of a traditional high school, he said; it distracted him from any kind of learning.

But in the short space of a year, Calvo has thrown himself into his work at SAS. He has joined the school's leadership team, helped design the new school, made friends of his teachers and worked his way toward an early graduation.

If he took that 10th-grade WASL now, at this school, the whole experience would feel different.

"I respect the teachers a lot more, and the place," said Calvo. "I would have given give it more than the bare minimum."

Cara Solomon: 206-464-2024 or csolomon@seattletimes.com