The alarm sounded this morning and I groaned with a voice now a year older! Now that I am an adult, for some reason the day has lost its exuberance. Of course, having a birthday in the middle of the summer was always a bummer as a child. I remember during elementary school, when a kid had a birthday their mother would bring cupcakes for the class and we’d always sing a round or two of the Birthday Song… usually with lyrics that included the line “Happy birthday to you, you live in a zoo… you smell like a monkey and look like one too”! The teacher would always correct the class and we would giggle with pink icing on our chins and noses and celebrate the day!
But kids who have birthdays in the summer were always challenged to have parties at home and hope their friends weren’t on family vacations! Of course I never complained… my mother was extremely creative and I was always enchanted with some spectacular designed cake that always tasted better than those silly cupcakes anyway!
It is a little ironic that now that I am an adult, I have the pleasure of spending my birthday with my peers during Summer School. As we age, I guess we actually appreciate being surrounded by loved ones. This year I have been blessed not only with a smooth running summer school, but also an awesome staff. When I walked in my office, I could not see the surface of my desk which was filled with multiple pot/vases/containers of flowers, cards, presents, cake and a beautiful sketch of one my Shih Tzus, Puddin Pie, lovingly drawn by one of my favorite teachers. Knowing my passion for roses, my office manager filled a vase with twelve incredible yellow roses (of Texas) that immediately brought a tear to my eye. Heck, I’ll trade this for all those pink cupcakes in the world… even the ones with sprinkles.
As I thought about it, life is simply full of irony. For example, this week I was notified that I was listed on Marquis Who’s Who Among American Women in their 50th anniversary edition (actually not a big deal, I had several former students nominate me for Who’s Who Among High School Teachers… which did mean something because they thought enough of me to name me as a teacher who influenced their lives) The irony of this is the same day, I lost a game of dodge ball to a group of severely handicapped kiddos. I must admit it is a humbling experience getting tagged with a ball from a kid who can’t walk in a straight line!!!! Now I am actually feeling closer to the “Something” than 40!
It is also ironic that as school officials we spend more effort dealing with adults than we do kids! One reason I dreaded getting out of bed is that would have to face a student and his grandfather who I was forced to kick out of summer school this week... both of them! After being warned a number of times by one of our campus supervisors not to wear a rock band t-shirt with weapons on the front of it, young Truman thought nothing of wearing it to school a third day.
When the campus supervisor attempted to stop him to discuss his out and out defiance, he began cussing and simply walked pass her. Another campus supervisor stretched his arms out in an attempt to stop him from passing through the gate. Truman pushed into his arms, then swirled around with fists posed for a fight yelling, “You f**king tried to choke me”!!!! He was diverted by the first campus supervisor and he proceeded to curse her all the way to the staff parking lot.
She radioed for an administrator and I found him using language that would cause any sailor to blush! At first he refused to stop for our assistant principal and I who quickly caught up to him in the trusty golf cart. When I reminded him that summer school was a privilege and I would dismiss him, he then turned his anger on me and kicked the golf cart and slung his notebook into a six-foot chain link fence. Now concerned for all our safety, I radioed the office to call a police officer. He then began yelling again “He f**king tried to strangle me” as he began to call his father on his cell phone.
The campus supervisor walked up and explained the situation and stated that he was not “strangled” but actually he had forced his way through the other supervisor’s arm and pushed him out of the way. When Truman finally handed the phone to me I explained the situation to his supportive father, who asked to speak to him again. While passing the phone back and forth Truman who was still running around in a daze cursing at the top of his lungs dropped and broke his cell phone. (Isn’t it ironic?)
I called his father back on another phone and he told me that he would send his grandfather to pick him up. When the police arrived they managed to calm Truman down… amazing how a man (or woman) in blue can invoke civility in a situation. Truman remained calm, until the police officer told him that we were not going to have him arrested… then he shouted, “I know the law, my father is a lawyer and I know my rights, they can’t touch me”! “That man f**king strangled me.” Who exactly was it who told the children that we couldn’t touch them?? I frequently tell them if they are running around out of control acting like baboon I can (and will) LEGALLY touch them!
When his grandfather finally arrived I sighed, thinking here is a reasonable adult… I thought wrong! His grandfather kept arguing that he was getting kicked out for wearing a t-shirt. I finally got frustrated and told him, “Sir, you are fortunate you are not picking you grandson up at the police station.” “We could have easily gone for expulsion, for his pushing a campus supervisor.”
Now sitting in the car, Truman stuck his head out of the window and yelled, “I didn’t touch him, I just…” and began punching his fists in the air.” His grandfather wasn’t hearing me, and kept repeating… “Why are you kicking him out of summer school… why can’t you cut him some slack, he was worked hard all summer and now he is getting kicked out.”
At that moment, Truman had his finest hour when he started banging his head into the seat and metal post in his grandfather’s car. The police officer pointed out the obvious “He is going to destroy your car.” His grandfather curtly replied, “It’s only a car.” I stepped back… and shook my head realizing the irony of the situation, I was trained to deal with children, not irrational adults. Why can’t adults just butt out and let us do our jobs? Obviously the reason Truman behaves this way is because his family has never held him accountable for his actions!
I did kick him out of summer school… I did not want to put my staff in danger with his voile behavior. If I didn’t teach this child accountability it was quite obvious that he would never understand it. I had only been in my office about thirty minutes when the phone rang with his grandfather on the other end begging me to reconsider again, or at least allow him partial credit for his efforts. He explained that Truman was now living with him. His mother had passed away last year and he could not get along with his new stepmother.
After seeking wisdom from those I trust to know the law, I offered to give the young man his final exam, but only if he wrote letters of apology for the two campus supervisors. I also reminded them if this ever happened again he would be referred directly to the School Board in an expulsion hearing. They agreed and this morning I had to face the both!
Despite my angst, I was humbled by the display of love and support for my birthday. When they arrived I put him in an empty office to take the exam… I needed him to be away from my birthday bliss. I instructed his grandfather that he was to pick him up immediately following the exam. I do not know the pain that thrives in this young man, but it has such control that it drives him to the point of rage. I sincerely wish I could have shared my inner joy and peace today with him and his family.
I also found it quite ironic that we can teach him science standards so that he can pass his exam, but yet we are unable to teach him basic skills to survive in today’s society. Perhaps we need to revisit an old civics textbook printed back in 1965 when schools were allowed to develop good citizens as well as how to demand our individual “rights.”
