John

I have planning period first hour. This is the time when I'm supposed to be able to work on class stuff, but it never works out that way. The second week of school, I spotted John wandering around in the hallways during this time. I asked where he was supposed to be, and with his sly smile, he said he'd just gotten to school. I looked at his pass, and saw it was from fifteen minutes before.

He said he was late because they didn't have any lotion at home, so I took him to my classroom. I always have lotion for the kids. I told him to use some, and come back at the end of the day and he could have it. I began talking to him, asking about his grandma who was in the hospital. I began asking about basketball, which is the most important thing to all of the boys in their family. I asked if he wanted to play this year. I knew he'd been kept from the team because of his grades the previous year. He gave a slight nod, not wanting to seem too eager. [Something I've learned about John is that he feels like he's failed so often, that he tends to either not try at all, or sabotage his own chances]. We worked out a deal, where I promised that if he'd come in 2 days a week after school and really work on his homework, I'd guarantee that his grades wouldn't keep him off the team. His eyes lit up.

He was as good as his word; often coming in 3 days a week. He worked extremely hard in my room, and we talked and joked. He loves to tease me, and our relationship reminds me of mine and Eddie's. The problem was that he continued to skip class. His social studies bitch...er, teacher was infuriated that I was helping him. She feels that if he's struggling in her class, he should come to HER. While I agree to a certain extent, the fact is that not all kids are going to be comfortable with all of their teachers, so if they find someone that they can ask for help, be happy. She finally said that she would not give him credit for any work he did in my room.

In spite of this, he remained optomistic about playing basketball. I took the boys to get their sports physicals. Then the athletic director told me that John was too old to play for 7th grade. Terribly upset, and unsure how to break it to him, I confided this to Danny, a teacher in my hallway. Danny smiled, and told me that he was going to coach 8th grade, and he'd let John try out. John continued working. He was still not a model student at this point, and probably skipped 2-3 classes a week, but that was better than before.

Basketball tryouts came. After the first practice, Danny was excited with all of the talent, especially John. In spite of a low social studies grade, John was in the forefront of the pack. The last day of tryouts came. I didn't see John before school, but assumed he would arrive late. By lunch, he still wasn't there, and I called home. They believed he had gone to school- he was skipping. After school, Danny came to my room looking for John. He hoped John had come in for tutoring. I told him John was skipping school. We stared at each other sadly for a minute, and he crossed something off the clipboard he was carrying. John had sabotaged his chance at playing on the school team.