canceled forever

DRAMA CLASS

When I get back from taking a pair of students to science class, I leave them with other teachers and take a different kid to a drama class. This particular student, who I’ll call Richard (which may not relate to him except in some strange distant connection, but somehow it fits for me, so I’m going to keep it), is wrapping up his break on the computer, when he watches movie trailers. Any movie trailer will get him excited, waving his hands around and doing a frantic humming rendition of the theme song like he’s seen it a thousand times, which he has. I used to come marching in and demand that he get the HELL off the computer THIS INSTANT (because apparently I think that teaching primarily involves maintaining control over your students’ every move), but usually I’ll let him finish whatever trailer he’s watching. That’s not entirely accurate–depending on the day, you really have to badger him to get off and get going to his next class. But because of our historic conflict over computer time, whenever he sees me, he puts his hand up and waves his fingers around at the computer. This is baffled me at first. I wasn’t sure what it’s supposed to accomplish, but it looks exactly like he’s trying to cast a spell on it. His energy level is pretty high in this movie trailer euphoria, so his whole body is tensed up and he’s got an arm up to block me from Apple Qing him, or simply hitting the power button.

“Richard, it’s time for drama.”

No response.

“Hey, get off the computer.”

“No!”

“Lets go! We’ll be late!”

“I’m bu-sy!”

I reach forward and start poking at keys, this time too amused to be really upset, and deciding to let him finish the video anyway. He’s a bright kid; he gets that I’m playing with him, whereas other kids might have just stressed out or hit me.

“Mr. S! Mr. S stoooop iiiiiit!”

This has become a ritual that I can’t help but indulge in sometimes, if for no other reason than to see him wiggle his taut fingers at the computer like he’s trying to expel an evil spirit. It’s also a mild form of teasing to a kid that spends the majority of his day cycling through provocations that have gotten reactions out of his teachers, whether its screaming for no reason, grabbing his classmates and shaking them, or spitting on the floor. He does it because he thinks it’s hysterical, and to get attention, which, of course, it does. But he’s still one of my favorites. If I ever wanted to steal a car and go to Mexico and had to take one kid, it would probably be him. I’m not sure who would stipulate that I kidnap a student and go to Mexico, but if the situation ever arises, I’ve already made my decision.

A MOMENT

I don’t know how God crammed so much asshole into one tiny body. The beginning of this year was chaotic enough without him exhibiting a titanic level of selfish dickhood. He was completely unapologetic, too, and for the longest time did not show the slightest interest in anyone unless he could get something from them. I’m not even going to do the usual “yeah but he’s not all bad” caveat (until later). He stole drinks and food from complete strangers, he would throw himself on the ground and pretend to cry for what seemed like hours, he would hit, mock, and say the most sexually inappropriate things he could think of, and the firmer his teachers got, the more he would defy them. All this with little t0 no provocation. Try to make him say sorry, and he would respond with a furious or sardonic apology that meant nothing except that he could tell the difference between the spirit and the letter of the law. I almost never worked with him. If I had, one of us would have died, and I don’t think I have his single-minded drive for self-satisfaction and preservation.

I thought I had met the one student I couldn’t possibly like. Toward the latter part of the year, the staff member that usually worked with him was out sick, so I had to step in and work with him for a few periods. I was prepared for a fight, and I got one. We were doing flashcards. One side had a price, and the other side had the number of dollars he would have to give. Dollar-over math. He demanded to see the back of it, and I didn’t show him, so he jumped on me, trying to claw the card out of my hand. I realized he was way more dedicated to this scuffle than I was, so I gave it to him, telling him that it didn’t count (I.E., grasping at straws). I still have a scar on the back of my left hand from that encounter. We eventually sulk through the rest of the lesson and I  tell him he can go to the bathroom. He wanders down the hall instead, and when I start trailing him, he shouts at me to stop following him and runs down the hall. In a rare moment of humility I realized that I couldn’t keep doing the brute force commands against him, because they would only escalate his behavior. So I let him go to whatever bathroom he wanted, and waited for him to come out. We stared at each other when he did, and he stepped up close to me, craning his neck to see some pimple on my face. I started to ask him what he was doing, but just laughed instead. He, surprised, looked up at me, and started laughing too. He gave me a side hug and walked placidly to his next class.

As I’ve gotten to know him, I’d still call him a jerk, but a lot of his behavior seems (to my totally unscientific observation) to stem out of a discomfort with new situations and a response to something that legitimately challenges him, but an inability to express himself. And a pretty substantial selfish streak. BUT, I wouldn’t have come to that conclusion without that entirely saccharine but entirely real moment in the hallway, where I got to see (a nanosecond’s worth of) consideration for another person. I don’t mind him now, and I’m starting to like him more as the year comes to a close.