I teach five periods a day. In addition, there is one period where I am assigned to do something around the school. For this school year, I have been in the auditorium during “0” period (the first of the day).
My main job is to sit in the auditorium, tell students to sit down and remove their hats. It is thrilling. And fulfilling. You can only imagine. During the magical time of 7:40 to 8:24, I sit on the stage and watch the students filter in. My main hope is that they will stay sleepy and not cause any problems. I am quite content to see them calmly ease into the day. This part of my job is generally easy. There has yet to be a fight and the students generally respond when I ask them to take off their hat. So, I use the time to go on the computer (blog), mark papers, review lesson plans, etc.
Something has occurred during this placid time of the day which I did not plan for. There are a few students that sit on the stage with me every day. We did not talk about it. They simply chose to do so. We talk about school, life – whatever is on our mind. This type of banter is my favorite part of being a teacher. When students are outside of the classroom and you engage them in one-on-one conversation or in small groups, they are different people. No longer do they feel the need to impress their classmates. It’s often like you are meeting a kid for the first time. He may certainly resemble the student you have in the classroom but there are differences. Good differences.
Tyrel is one of the students who sits with me on the stage every morning. He is an 11th grader. He was a member of my class in the Fall of his 10th grade year. He did reasonably well in the class. We had occasional clashes as he could be moody and temperamental. When we crossed paths during the Spring term, we would exchange a brief “hey.”
Now, Tyrel is a regular on the stage. He walks serenely down the aisle, shakes my hand, wishes me a good morning, and then proceeds to put his backpack down and eat his breakfast. Sometimes we talk – about homework, our weekend, whatever. Sometimes, we don’t. Yesterday, Tyrel told me he was having a challenging term. He will be attending a family reunion in the Caribbean with 11 of his mother’s siblings and their families. This upcoming trip was exciting for him and challenging him in terms of concentration.
When the bell rang, he and the others said good bye and headed off to their classes. The next time I saw Tyrel he was in the dean’s office. He was explaining an incident that happened earlier in the day. The long and short of it is that he hit a fellow student, Malik, in the head with a pipe. Malik was bleeding and was ultimately taken to the hospital. Apparently Malik had stolen something from Tyrel last term, was making fun of TYREL’s family, and was acting like he was going to steal something else. I happen to know MALIK: he is immature and not overly bright.
Tyrel calmly retold this story, aware of what he did wrong. He said he couldn’t take it anymore and was tired of hearing it. Before I went back to my classroom, I spoke to TYREL privately. I told him I was sorry about all that had happened. I hoped he would be okay. And I would be a character witness for him.
While walking back to my classroom, I was shaking my head. What will happen to Tyrel? How could he lose it like that? I thought I knew him. He’s not that kind of person. I am worried for my students.
*Please note names have been changed.