Thursday, June 07, 2007

For him and all the others

Today was a good day in seventh grade. We were writing letters to all of our teachers, we were doing vocabulary puzzles and coloring Mexican art, we were listening to Elvis. And then an email came.
It was from the registrar and told me that one of my students would not be coming back to school after today. His dad is in a coma and not expected to make it. This was a huge surprise to me. Oh yeah, and mom doesn't want him to know it.
This isn't the first time we've gotten one of these phone calls. Just a few weeks ago I found out that another student in the same class was getting ready to move at the end of the year to New Orleans. Because her mother has terminal cancer and her father's going to have to raise her. And oh yeah, mom doesn't want her to know it.
So as I sat there, less than five feet away from this kid today, I couldn't help but think about what was about to happen to him. He's about to lose his father, his life is about to change. He will never be the same. And yet he had no idea.
I did some careful digging and I don't think he realized what I was doing at all. I figured out that his dad was deployed, according to him in Alaska. But he wasn't sure. Mom told him dad got to pick between Alaska and Iraq and dad picked Alaska. But dad works on harriers and I am pretty certain there aren't too many harriers in Alaska right now, since we're at war right now. So that seemed a bit fishy.
So I worked my magic and managed to get him all his end of the year stuff, his writing portfolio and journal to take home without him really realizing what I was doing. I also told him mom wanted him to take his tennis shoes home from his locker and when he told me he didn't have shoes in his locker I replied, "Well take home all the important stuff so then you won't get in trouble." This seemed very reasonable to him and so he cleaned it out before leaving.
But I had to be there, in my class with him, for over an hour, just thinking about what was going on in his life that he didn't even know about. He's thirteen, he's old enough to realize what's going on, to realize the people most important to him have been lying to him. And that's sad to me. I was always grateful for my mom and her opinion that kids should know stuff. She never tried to hide the truth from me. It might hurt and suck but it was out there. And that's how I like it. I want to know things.
As I watched this boy working on his picture of the rumble from The Outsiders, a giant dustball of a fight, I couldn't help but think about how that represents very aptly what's about to happen to him, his world's about to blow up. And today he was having a good day. He can be a withdrawn child, he was one of my golfers but he was moody and didn't always like to work. In fact, his A had dropped to a D this quarter. But he turned in his final project today and was proud of it and he'd gotten his grade back up to a C. In his letter to me he'd written that he was thankful for all I did to help him in class and on the golf team, and when he was on the PGA tour he'd remember me.
So I'll wonder about him tonight and tomorrow. I will most likely never know what ultimately happens to him or his family. It they're military and dad's gone, they'll soon leave I'd imagine. They only got here in the winter from North Carolina. And I'll be sad. For his dad and for all the others. And for this child and all the others.

3 comments:

brickmomma said...

Oh my, that is tragic! You were very smooth in your tactics, I am impressed. However I am not sure how you did it. I am almost in tearsand I don't even know this kid. 13 is old enough and you are right, he will think everyone is lying to him about everything. Where will the trust be? love you~

Anonymous said...

My heart is so broken for him and for you to have to be strong for him - the hat that a teacher wears that many don't realize. On this last week of school for me, I've been dealing with some pretty rough stuff - at least I thought it was until I read this. It has kept me up at night. After reading this - I've been put back into the place that I belong. While it has been rough for me, I am humbled by what you have to go through. Once again, your life experiences have taught me a lesson. I am sorry for you Sarah, and sad. I love you!

Laura said...

Our instinct is to protect them because we think we want them to not have to worry. But they always remember that their parents kept things from them, that they weren't always completely honest. I think you did the best you could with the restrictions placed on you. I can also see that it will be hard not to know what happens to these kids. Maybe you'll be able to find out someday.