Chapter Fifty: Uncomfortably Numb

Chapter 50: Uncomfortably Numb

I am either numb, jaded or both. Although I continue to write in my journal, my sense of awe and shock is gone and at times my entries border on flippancy and sarcasm even when events warrant a more serious tone. Admittedly the Extortion Ring and off-campus AWOLs were new challenges, but as matter-of-factly as one might write, “It rained this morning,” I write: Perry and Mulchaey lit firecrackers on the bus. I suspend both boys from the bus for a week. It is only when I send my out-of-state friends emails cut and pasted from my journal, and their replies come back littered with exclamation points and disbelief, am I reminded how far removed we are from normal.

My new shell-shocked state allows me to weather the usual Prospect excitement without hand wringing, and it would now take a seriously cataclysmic event for me to feel like there was a crisis. But what have I lost? As I get more numb to the stress, am I also less concerned with the lives of my students? What am I becoming? I see Midge ill, passed out on her floor and I feel like I am looking at a scene from a movie. I shrug off rumors of pregnant girls and barely flinch at the sight of a fourteen-year-old girl who happens to be a mother and an amputee. One of my teachers is abusive but I treat him the same way I treat my tardy teachers: I write him up. What is happening to my energy, my passion, my enthusiasm, my hope?



January 29th
Darla’s father phoned RitaMae to say Darla was high when she got off the bus this afternoon and she was “unable to hold a slice of avocado.” (Is this a standard measure of drug consumption?) Darla admits she took pills from Curtis on the bus ride home, but she says she doesn’t know what the pills were. RitaMae phones me at home asking what she should do. I haven’t a clue. I’m just making it up as I go. But I don’t say that to RitaMae.
Speaking of drugs, during a random drug test today, Marcus tested positive for 4 drugs including marijuana.

January 30th
Coby and Tyrell fought at dismissal. Coby took off his sneakers and threw them at Tyrell. Coby was livid and literally foaming at the mouth. Stone restrained Coby and witnesses say he was pretty rough about it. I don’t let either boy ride home on the bus. When Tyrell’s grandparents came to pick him up they took him outside for a “whuppin.” Coby’s father said he must have forgotten to take his medication before school or maybe he took the wrong medicine. (I have this image of a countertop covered with amber prescription bottles and Coby selecting which pills to take each morning.)

February 3rd
Darla was back in school today after several days absence post pill popping. She told RitaMae she took the pills because she wants to kill herself because her mother keeps saying she wished she’d killed Darla when Darla was a baby and her stepmother hates her (RitaMae says this is pretty close to the truth) and her father wants to kick her out (at least he keeps telling RitaMae he plans to “put Darla on the streets.”). Darla said there is no point in talking to a counselor since her mother took her to counseling before and Darla saw a counselor three times but she stopped going because her mother said it wasn’t working. We Baker Act Darla. When RitaMae called Darla’s father to tell him about the Baker Acting he suggests she adopt Darla.

February 4th
The Mime was in my office crying again. Today she was crying because she cried in front of her class and between choking sobs tells me she worries they’ve lost all respect for her. Should I tell her this is impossible – they have no respect for you? Her bawling stops as suddenly as it started and she sniffles that she has a plan: she will teach her students to juggle. Oh fine, I am sure that’s a splendid idea….

February 5th
I have to fill out repair paper work because a switch plate in Neeley’s room is broken. Neeley says a child’s head hit it during a “wild time.” Rosie reported to me that all the computers in Neeley’s classroom are destroyed because it is always “wild time” in Neeley’s room.

February 6th
At lunch time, Corinna, the Title One liaison, showed up out of the blue and started to tell Lynne she is doing “everything wrong.” Corinna and Lynne got into a screaming match in my office. I missed the opening rounds, but I saw the end: Corinna storming out the front door of my portable, shouting, “Your Title One money is now in jeopardy” and Lynne exiting almost as quickly out the back door to sit on the stoop sobbing.

February 7th
Chloe is back in Cressler House. She’s been there for over a week, ever since she made allegations of child abuse against her mother. Her mother called today to say she is happy to be rid of Chloe and that some social worker at Cressler is threatening to have her arrested for child neglect because she refuses to bring Chloe’s clothes down there. Mom says Chloe was going to run away and maybe the people at Cressler can keep her from doing that. Rosie calls Cressler House to let them know Chloe has been depressed and might be suicidal.

February 11th
Tony’s mother told me Tony’s teacher, Neeley, drinks alcohol during class from a plastic cup mixing it with apple juice and orange juice. Tony told her Neeley jokes about it all the time. I sent Neeley for a “random” drug test. He came back clean. I think I remember reading that alcohol leaves your bloodstream pretty fast, unlike marijuana.

February 12th
Henry stopped by to tell me I’m supposed to be doing a “POP” on all my new teachers. “POP” apparently is part of the Florida alternative certification program. I had no idea I had a role to play in the certification of my “non-traditional” teachers. Henry left me with arm loads of files and packets and says I should have attended a two-day training on this but for now I must read the material and implement immediately.

February 13th
Rosie confided in me that three of our girls are pregnant and they are identifying the fathers as either Prospect students or older men.
The Mime squealed into the walkie-talkie today “SHANDON IS IN THE CLOSET SHOWING HIS GENITALS TO DURON!”

February 17th
Two Bus drivers arrived upset. Public school students threw eggs at their busses, some eggs went inside the bus and hit kids. Busses are sticky and eggy inside and out.

February 18th
The Mime cried in our morning meeting today. She cries so much I don’t even remember why she was crying this time. Stone, who was sitting next to her, reached in his pocket, removed some change and, turning to the Mime, said “Here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.” Stone’s sarcasm: it’s not just for students anymore.

February 19th
United Way called today, we were denied the United Way grant. Despite the hours of work I spent applying for this, I feel relief. The money was earmarked to transport students to Prospect all summer so we could run school 12 months a year. It would have been great for the students, but right now I would like to have a couple student free months.

February 21st
Estralitta and Selma, two of the three pregnant girls Rosie told me about, are not pregnant. Chloe is the third and the rumor mill says that is why her mother forced her into Cressler house. Valerie, my new Title One Math teacher told me Karla told her she was absent yesterday because she was having an abortion. Actually Karla told Valerie it was “Marla” who had the abortion. Marla is Karla’s imaginary evil twin. Karla’s mother still hasn’t refilled the lithium prescription….

March 3rd
Midge was absent from the 8:00 morning meeting. I just figured she was late but after the meeting, Buffy reported that Midge’s car was parked on campus. We found Midge unconscious, sprawled out on the floor of her classroom. Lynne called 911. Buffy and Rosie sat with Midge stroking her and calming her. Two firefighters appeared just as the busses were pulling in. Two ambulance workers also appeared shortly thereafter. Midge was given oxygen and examined. Vital signs normal. Midge told the paramedics she had been spraying the bathroom with disinfectant and that was the last thing she remembered. The paramedics said she was fine but she decided to go home to recover. She was crying. Rosie got her a cup of tea. Midge drove home after an hour with the tea. I threw away the disinfectant.

March 5th
Henry phoned to say the School Board ruled against Edgar returning to public school. Henry said we’ll try again and next time Jordan, Edgar’s teacher and I will “testify.” When I gave Edgar the news, his lip quivered, but he put on a brave face.

March 6th
Chloe says the father of her “baby” is a thirty-year-old man who is a friend of her mother’s. Rosie called DCF.

March 12th
There was a toxic aroma in four classrooms this morning. Various staff identified it as either: dead animal, hair chemicals in a bad beauty salon, old burnt rubber or the NJ Turnpike (that was my professional assessment). Teachers refused to go in their classrooms. By the end of day the mystery was solved: the toxic smell was a burnt plastic sheathing on a light fixture.

March 13th
Stephanie invited me to visit her classroom today to hear Zoë, her newest student, introduce herself. All I knew about Zoë was that she is a white fourteen-year-old girl who had a baby last year. As I watched, Zoë removed her prosthesis and told the class about the dump truck of sewage that ran over her leg three years ago, Zoë is surprisingly articulate.

March 14th
Henry stopped by to tell me we’ll have to find a new location for Prospect next year because the School Board wants to use this property for a project of their own: a school for dumb good kids (as opposed, I suppose, to my students: dumb bad kids). The purpose is to raise FCAT scores.

April 8th
Billie radioed for me to help her with “something suspicious” today. She always wants to be the “good cop.” When I got out to the ball field she told me to look in Dante’s jacket hanging on the fence. I found a computer mouse. Billie said Marcus (hair braided today) was part of the theft and she wanted me to have both boys sent to the deputy. I do, but his investigation turns up nothing. Later Billie radioed for me again this time she believed there was some sort of cigarette scam involving Karla and Mimi. We know both girls smoke, so Rosie searched them but turned up nothing. When she heard this, Billie claimed they transferred the cigarettes to another girl but she wasn’t sure who.

April 9th
Chloe finally had a pregnancy test, she is not pregnant. She is still living at Cressler House.

April 10th
A new student arrived today, Rafael. He tried to fight with Kareem in the parking lot early this morning, but new teacher Theo broke it up, cutting his finger in the process. Then at breakfast Rafael again attacked Kareem and was punching his face when the Deputy separated them and handcuffed Rafael. The Deputy turned his back and Rafael went around him and, despite the cuffs, started kicking and spitting at Kareem. The Deputy dragged him away shouting “What are you, an idiot?”

April 11th
Hannah didn’t have a good day. Her students rioted and she threw a framed picture at them and the glass broke. She went to Rosie’s office for confession and a shoulder to cry on. At least she didn’t cry in front of class like The Mime does.

April 15th
We got a new elementary kid this week, Jojo. His mother said she doesn’t know why he keeps doing wrong especially since every morning before school they have a prayer circle and light aroma therapy candles. Today Jojo’s mother was late to pick him up, again. He waits for her outside Jana’s classroom. When Jana was busy in the bus circle talking with a parent, Jojo snuck inside her classroom and stole Jana’s walkie-talkie from her desk. Although she couldn’t prove it, Jana was sure Jojo was the culprit and told his mother as much. His mother refused to believe it and in fact was angry and rude to Jana. But then at home when she found the walkie-talkie and the belt clip for it, which Jojo broke, she phoned to tell me. She became upset when I told her she would have to pay for a new clip. Here is what I didn’t tell her: I think you’re using the wrong aromas.

April 16th
Billie and The Mime were both late again today. They are late a lot. When we talk they act like I’m making much ado about nothing and then they spew excuses. I wrote them both up. Neeley, on the other hand wasn’t late! After a spate of tardies with excuses ranging from: “I fell asleep drunk with a bottle of wine in my hand on the couch and didn’t hear my alarm” to “A guy parked behind my truck and I couldn’t back out” we had a serious talk and I put him on a PIP (performance improvement plan). He’s been on time every day since and I make a point of quietly acknowledging his success daily.

April 17th
I got a call today from a school principal in Savannah Georgia doing a reference check on Yvonne. Big question: would she be eligible for rehire at my school. Hmmm let me see, lame lessons, no classroom management and resignation by fax – I’d have to say “NO!” I’m still laughing over Hannah’s comment in our morning meeting: she said it’s getting easier for her to be tough, harden her heart and maintain control in the classroom. “I’m so mean now, I’m even mean to my cat!”

April 18th
A long kitchen knife was found under Sam’s portable today. Jeremiah found it and gave it to Mookie who then turned it in to Title One Reading teacher, Dana. Rumors are rampant: Calymont, Kembrall…. Will our investigation yield any findings? How long has the knife been there?

April 22nd
The Mime found a note Kembrall wrote to a new girl saying, “I want to fuck you.” The Mime promised him she would keep this information to herself – unclear why, more poor judgment. Some of the other students told Rosie who grew alarmed since Kembrall has been accused of molesting some of the girls. Why did I hire The Mime?!

April 23rd
Stephanie lost a stack of orientation in-take packets and is trying to blame others. She has been very scattered lately. Lynne says Stephanie’s sort-of-ex-husband has been trying to reconcile with her while her new love-of-her-life is deployed in the Middle East.

April 24th
More excitement with Midge today. She radioed for help and reported pain in her arm and blindness in one eye. 911 all over again. Midge spent all day in the ER, no causes, no diagnosis. They admitted her and are running more tests. I phoned the hospital and spoke with Midge’s daughter. She said the doctors think it is either her heart, a pinched nerve in her arm, sleep apnea or the fact that Midge has been upset about the death of a friend.

April 28th
Rafael, who was arrested on his first day at Prospect, returned today. Billie was covering the orientation class as they ate breakfast. Rafael started throwing milk. Billie sounded pretty hysterical on the walkie-talkie and Stone, who was right outside the cafeteria with his class, came to her aid. Witnesses say Stone manhandled Rafael causing Rafael to bite Stone and then spit a huge gob in Stone’s face. Stone responded by choking Rafael until he nearly lost consciousness (Rafael not Stone). Two plainclothes detectives were on campus to question Curtis about a recent crime spree and they rushed to the scene and handcuffed Rafael. I’m pretty sure Rafael won’t be back, but what to do about Stone? Billie was in the best position to observe the encounter but she and Stone are thick as thieves and she denies he did anything but “rescue” her.

Are numbness, sarcasm and flippancy symptoms of “job burn-out”? And what role does this numbness play in my new sleep habits? As the fourth quarter starts, I find it is easier to sleep, but harder to get out of bed in the morning and I feel tired all the time? I try to channel my thoughts on specific plans and projects in an attempt to regain my energy and focus, but I find it hard to care and even harder to hope. Cynical thoughts cloud my brain and my inner voice starts to sound frighteningly like Stone’s. I’m hurtling toward the dark side. I try to think of something I’ve done that has been a success, something that has helped my students. I think about Activity Period and for a moment, I recapture my passion and enthusiasm. It is to be a short-lived moment.

Chapter Forty-Nine: When Numbers Don't Count

Chapter 49: When Numbers don’t Count

We spent a lot of time preparing for the standardized tests known as FCAT (Florida Comprehensive Assessment Tests). Most public schools are able to dedicate one staff person, usually a counselor, to focus almost exclusively on FCAT for the months leading up to testing. We don’t have this luxury. This year Rosie volunteered to project manage FCAT but since she still had classes to run and children to counsel, it fell to me to attend many of the training sessions and then train the faculty. The additional workload kept expanding and as the testing dates approached we found it necessary to work on weekends. I joined several of my staff members in my office on a Saturday morning to bubble in the labels on score sheets for all the students who arrived after September and thus lack pre-printed forms (most of our students!).

As the FCAT week approached I grew increasingly concerned about my staff’s ability to correctly administer the tests as well as my students’ ability to perform. The FCAT test prep isn’t just about how to take the test, but how to behave during the testing. My faculty spent a long time going over the rules and citing the misbehaviors that would result in a zero on the FCAT. Amazingly, I need not have worried. With only a couple rare exceptions, the Prospect students followed the all FCAT rules. While testing was underway the school was silent. I actually heard a bird chirping when I walked across campus. The walkie-talkies didn’t squeal, students didn’t go AWOL or shout profanity. All was quiet on the Prospect front. The week of FCAT testing was the calmest week of the year and it makes me wonder how often could we administer standardized tests and still get this level of compliance!

Why were the students so compliant, so well behaved? Did the rigid structure of the testing situation comfort them? Did they find the simple rules -start, bubble in, no questions, no talking, no grey areas - to be a relief? Prospect students have demonstrated time and again their lack of respect for, or fear of, parents, teachers and police officers, yet they seriously follow all the rules for FCAT’s. Could it be they feel the tests are fair and objective in ways all those “authority figures” are not?

In Florida, scores on the FCAT are used to determine not only which children are failing but also which schools are failing. One of the provisions of the federal education law “No Child Left Behind” (NCLB) is that failing schools will be taken over by the state or turned into Charter Schools and in some instances, the children who attend these failing schools will be given the opportunity to transfer to another school.

Although the students at Prospect take the FCAT, their scores are have never been used to evaluate the quality of education offered at Prospect. This surprises me since Prospect is a Title One school and the law states if a Title One school fails for two consecutive years, parents must be given a choice of schools to which their child can transfer.


When Prospect students take the FCAT, their individual scores count and are entered into their “permanent school records” with failing scores often used to justify retaining them. But, unlike public schools, the score that represents the entire Prospect student body is not reported. This intentional omission reminds me of the cliché: if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?

Shortly after I became the principal of Prospect, I started asking how to make the school score for Prospect count. My liaison, Henry, is mystified as to why I would want to do this. If Prospect was given a letter grade, Henry explains, we wouldn’t do better than an “F.” I know this but I also know that schools that receive an “F” are given additional funds and resources to help them improve and schools that do improve (move from an F to a D for example) are awarded money to reward their progress. I want this money for my school and I also want another tool to gauge my success in improving academics at Prospect.

Henry advises me to call Deirdre, the person in charge of guidance for Herald County Public Schools. Deirdre says not counting Prospect scores isn’t an omission, it’s the law. She explains that she can’t count Prospect scores because we didn’t meet the legal minimum required number of students taking the FCAT. I tell her I am looking at the numbers and that actually we did. She agrees, then says we can’t count Prospect scores because those students who took the FCAT weren’t also on the rolls the prior October . I don’t have that data at my fingertips to refute or support her claim, but I suspect we might meet that criteria as well and I tell her even if we didn’t meet it last year, with the increase in our student population, we’ll surely meet it this year. Whereupon Dierdre tells me we’ll have to meet it for two consecutive years. My conversation with Deirdre makes it clear to me that Herald County does not want to include Prospect data in the county’s NCLB profile. Herald County has gone two years without an “F” school and they don’t want one now.

As Dierdre and I conclude our discussion, I realize I have neither the facts to successfully argue my case, nor the time to investigate and gather the necessary data. The provisions and criteria of NCLB are complex enough that few people have a thorough understanding of how the scores are computed let alone all the loopholes and nuances of this law. Principals and other administrators believe they have a handle on the subject until they attempt to reassure perplexed parents at which point they realize they too are unclear on many of the provisions of these state and federal education measurements. Like the state certification laws, often a school district has one person who has attended all the training sessions and read all the memos and is the resident expert. In Herald County, Deirdre has that authority and is frequently called upon to answer questions, clarify and demystify. She is the FCAT gatekeeper and it appears her marching orders are to interpret and use every regulation to keep Alternative School test scores from “polluting” the public school numbers. Deirdre is good at her job; Prospect scores will not count against the district.

Free-market driven, measure-by-objective, professionals look at my students as dandelions whose presence prevents an otherwise beautiful lawn from producing the desired result for all to see. The weeds must be pulled. This is their moral imperative. To allow the weeds to remain blights what otherwise would be pristine, productive yards. To leave the weeds weakens the whole, lowering the overall effect of a fine lawn. In the rush to pull, my students are transferred from the classrooms in which they were reducing productivity, and transplanted to Prospect – a weed farm. Separated, segregated and ostracized from the beautiful lawns, they are shut away and forgotten. The weed pullers point to the improved results coming from their newly weed free lawns, and point out the resiliency of weeds as proof that all parties are doing well. In fact the folks who objectively judge beautiful lawns (with the gardening tool of choice: FCATs) can tell us how much better those lawns are now than they were before. The shame is they can’t seem to find the weed farm to judge how it’s doing. Curious how the well intentioned weed pullers don’t see the value in judging all the lawns, but only those which they’ve spent time and money working on, while they hide the weed farm behind the fence.

I look at the dandelions and see not weeds, but flowers. Fragile flowers, in serious danger of wilting. They need at least as much support as the beautiful grass lawns, and as anyone who can really see, knows, they need a lot more.

Chapter Forty-Eight: Darius Drowning

Chapter 48: Darius Drowning

Not too far out in the water a child is floundering. On the beach people are watching: people who are good swimmers, people with boats and life preservers, people who know the child. But no one moves to save the child. The people watch as his cries for help weaken and his head slips under the surface. Over and over he manages, with splashing and struggling, to rise above the crashing waves only to be dragged under again. Finally he doesn’t resurface.

Later many of the people on the beach say they knew all along he was going to drown, it was just a matter of time.

Confession: I am one of the people on that beach. I watched the boy drown and did nothing. While the boy was drowning, I was preoccupied with building castles in the sand. Worse yet, I really liked the drowning boy, but like the rest of the people on the beach, I was unwilling do what was required to rescue him.

Darius remembers a time when he had a real family – a mother, a father and two younger brothers and they all lived together in Springfield, Massachusetts. He was four years old when the “social workers” took him from his parents, but his memories combined with his imagination paint an idyllic picture of those halcyon days. He grasps tightly to this story as life swirls about, choking and drowning him.

Nine years and fourteen foster homes later, Darius rarely sees one brother (therapeutic foster home - multiple physical handicaps), never sees the other brother (adopted) nor his parents (“My mother did something really, really bad to me”). At times Darius has been nourished by the rare and always temporary love of a teacher, counselor, social worker, therapist and long ago, a foster mother who died. These injections of love help keep Darius afloat with his chin quivering and dripping just above the water line.

The staff has been watching the sinking of Darius for weeks and we’ve made several phone calls to his foster mother. She tells us she thinks the psychotropic drugs Darius takes aren’t working properly or that the dosage is insufficient, but, she explains, his doctor is on vacation for a month and no one is covering his patients. This seems unbelievable to me and I call her more than once begging her to pressure someone: DCF, the clinic Darius attends, his therapist; to see Darius and alter his prescription. I tell her we are all worried about Darius. My words fail to persuade. Meanwhile Darius’s behavior becomes stranger and more volatile.

Neither Darius nor Ethan is a popular boy. They aren’t scapegoated, mostly they’re just avoided as one might steer clear of an unshaven homeless man talking loudly to himself. Misery in this case does not love company, at least not the company of another miserable outcast. In an effort to be accepted, Ethan seeks out opportunities to taunt Darius. His efforts are usually rewarded. Darius can pretty much be counted on to overreact to minor teasing and Prospect students thrive on such theatrics. Lately Darius hasn’t even required much of a catalyst, he is permanently armed for bear and he’ll lock and load with minimal provocation.

Of course it happened in the Mime’s class and it involved the Mime’s water bottle. It is surprising, or in retrospect maybe not so surprising, that the Mime still leaves her water bottle within reach of her class, especially in reach of Ethan, although for this prank Ethan doesn’t spit in it. Instead, after secreting the bottle off the Mime’s desk, Ethan walks up to Darius and quietly says his name causing Darius to look up from his worksheet at which point Ethan squirts Darius directly in the face with nearly the entire contents of the water bottle. Darius loses all control. He morphs into something approximating a cross between The Hulk and the Tasmanian Devil. Screeching, he throws chairs, desks, books and tears writing from the walls as he chases after Ethan. Saliva oozes down his chin as he lashes out – Darius is literally foaming at the mouth. Ethan’s initial laughter fades fast when faced with the reality of the Darius Demon. The other students flee the classroom, the Mime screams incomprehensibly into the walkie-talkie.

The Deputy and Counselor Rusty arrive in seconds with the Deputy determined to arrest Darius and Rusty just as determined he not be arrested. I take the Deputy aside to plead Darius’s case. He agrees, no arrest, but a long suspension. I call the foster mother and tell her Darius is suspended for fighting, that he was nearly arrested and that he can’t come back until he sees a doctor. She is not pleased. She tells me I should have let the Deputy arrest him, that would have taught him a lesson.

I have become really annoyed by that now all too familiar sentiment, it is like the refrain from some eerie chorus that keeps singing dirges to the future of my students.

My attempt to pressure the foster mother backfires – she knows her rights. The next morning Henry, my public school liaison, stops by my office to tell me I can’t suspend a child pending a doctor visit. I have to set a specific number of days in accordance with the severity of the misbehavior. Henry suggests five days. I try to explain my rationale, but to no avail. I may know Darius, but Henry knows the rules.

After five days, Darius returns and is so sleepy and disoriented in English class, the Mime decide he needs to “sober up” and she sends him to Shasta who is dispensing meds in the “clinic.” Shasta has Darius lie down and when she talks with him she learns he is now taking twice as many pills as prescribed. His doctor is still on vacation, so did Darius decide to increase his dosage on his own or did his foster mother? Shasta tells Rosie, Rosie tells me and I plan to phone his foster mother but I neglect to make it a priority and two days go by before I remember and by then it is too late.

Darius is wild. Absolutely wild. He starts his day by pounding the cafeteria table at breakfast chanting, “Give me my damn ice cream.” Later he dashes out of math class, removes his shoes and starts to run around the ball field in his socks. I walk out to the pitcher’s mound and call his name. At first he ignores me until I remind him I am a fast runner (Darius has seen my running trophy and believes the hype about my superhero speed) and that I can tackle him and restrain him (neither of us has forgotten his first days at Prospect – Darius eating dirt with me pinning his legs). He is still flailing but he follows me to my office. I see the Deputy watching us, shaking his head. In my office I tell Darius I’m going to call his foster mother.

“You know her number?” He asks, sitting shoeless on the edge of the chair, swinging his legs and fidgeting.

“Of course, if you recall I’ve called her a few times before.” Darius smiles at that but tells me: “Bet you don’t know her number today.” When I ask why, Darius explains:
“She’s on vacation. I’m staying at Cressler House.”

Cressler House – the shelter for homeless and abused children in Herald County.

I call Darius’s DCF caseworker. I’m told his case has been contracted out to a private faith-based agency. I call that agency and talk with Darius’s new caseworker. Yes, he is aware that Darius is living this week at Cressler. “Like leaving your dog in the kennel,” I sarcastically quip. He tells me this arrangement isn’t unusual – foster parents often don’t want the foster children around on vacation. The caseworker agrees to come pick up Darius. When the caseworker arrives, Rusty escorts Darius for a walk around campus to locate his missing shoes. In my office with Darius’s caseworker, I share my concerns about his behavior, his medication, his stay in the shelter. The caseworker listens, then says “Obviously you care for Darius, would you be interested in adopting him?” I stammer something by way of a reply as the caseworker continues, “Well I asked his foster mother, but she doesn’t want him. We got the youngest brother adopted but the middle brother has physical handicaps so no one wants him. Darius has an aunt, she’s 23 and in the military in Iraq. She says she might want Darius when she returns…. Oh and next time he behaves like this, my supervisor says you need to have him arrested. With my caseload, I don’t have time to pick up every kid who misbehaves.”

I meet with Rosie, Rusty and Darius’s teachers to talk about strategies to help Darius survive until his foster mother returns from vacation. Sam, his math teacher, says a friendship of sorts has started to form between Darius and Paxton.

Paxton, like Darius, is a very thin, twelve-year-old white boy. Unlike Darius, Paxton lives with his biological mother and his new step-father. Paxton is fairly unique in that his school did not recommend placement at Prospect; last year his mother and step-father decided Paxton lies too much and requested placement here. The public school agreed. Paxton wears glasses and elastic waist cotton twill pants and his shirt is always tucked in. He is very calm and polite. Unlike Darius, he is not teased by his peers, possibly because he doesn’t respond. However he is never picked for teams or groups and doesn’t have any friends at Prospect.

Both Darius and Paxton are very bright and play chess together in chess club. Sam has seen Paxton speak quietly to Darius in an effort to calm him when Darius starts to go haywire. Sometimes it even works. Armed with this valuable information, we agree to make an effort to keep Paxton near Darius. We plan to remain vigilant with Darius and try to remove him from class before a riot occurs, however we are not optimistic about our chances for success.

As she leaves the meeting, Rosie says she thinks about adopting Darius. “Don’t tell him.” I caution. “Oh he already knows. We’ve talked about it” She replies. Darius’s dreams deferred: “Hey kid, any minute now I’ll swim out and rescue you, hold on, I’ll be along directly.”

The following day I have an off-campus curriculum meeting to attend. I inadvertently depart for the meeting wearing both my sneakers (I usually change back into my shoes for meetings) and walkie-talkie (which I at least remember to leave in my car during the meeting). While driving back to Prospect the walkie-talkie starts to crackle even before I turn into Prospect’s long driveway. Theo’s voice sounds hysterical, Sam sounds calm but his tone is edged with urgency. I am too far from campus to hear clearly, but one word keeps coming through loud and clear: Darius. I race up the driveway and leap from my car sprinting across campus to Sam’s portable. I arrive in time to see Theo, Sam and Jordan trying to restrain a screaming, punching, kicking, writhing Darius. Students from three classes have spilled out onto the walkway between the portables and like spectators at the coliseum they cheer the action. Paxton is kneeling next to Darius trying desperately to calm him while simultaneously dodging his thrashing fists, but Darius is too far gone. The Deputy arrives seconds after I do and in an instant handcuffs Darius and stuffs him into the back seat of the squad car. The Deputy then takes a moment to talk with the three sweating, panting teachers. He’ll need an official report from each of them, and he wants them (and me) to know he will be arresting Darius for a felony assault on teachers. I ask Theo, Sam and Jordan if they are hurt and need medical attention. They all say no but admit Darius did hit them although, as Sam says “It was like he was punching at ghosts and we got in the way.” What set him off? Someone, maybe Ethan, made fun of his math poster…. After the milling students are herded back in their classrooms I start to walk back to my office when I hear a voice behind me: “Ms. Smee?” It is Paxton. “Ms. Smee I’m sorry. I tried to mentor Darius but I couldn’t. I couldn’t help him.” Then Paxton hands me something. “This fell out of Darius’s pocket when he was fighting. I think it is his prescription bottle. He told me this morning that he ran out and his foster mother is away. He was planning to ask Miss Shasta if she could get more since she gives out meds.” Thank you Paxton. It’s not your fault Paxton.

Well meaning adults peered into the crystal ball and saw this future – maybe not the particulars, but we knew Darius was spiraling downward and yet no one could or would help him. We busied ourselves with other things and waited for the inevitable. I avert my eyes as the patrol car pulls away. I let Darius drown and here is a secret: Darius was one of my favorites.

Chapter Forty-Seven: And now for something completely different

Chapter 47: And Now for Something Completely Different

It is difficult to stay ahead of the students. When I think I have sampled every dish on the menu, the students add a chef’s surprise. Sometimes I feel they actually plot schemes with the goal of making me and my staff crazy. I know such paranoia isn’t justified, which isn’t to say the students aren’t plotting, just that their objective isn’t to make the staff insane. If that happens, as it often does, it is just icing on the cake as far as my students are concerned. My two new challenges for 2003 are: AWOL and Extortion.

The AWOL problem seems ordinary at first. The walkie-talkie crackles with RitaMae relaying the news that Victor is AWOL. Victor, the gifted Hispanic thirteen-year-old who has been relegated to last place in RitaMae’s “favorite student club” often bolts from the classroom. I listen for Rosie or Rusty to confirm they see Victor and they are intercepting. But instead I soon hear Stone saying Arthur is also AWOL. If Neeley had been semi-alert he might have noticed Curtis was AWOL as well. Arthur and Curtis are both thirteen-year-old white boys. Curtis has been arrested several times and has spent time in two “programs” with no positive impact on his behavior. He isn’t nearly as sharp as Victor, but far more conniving. Arthur, on the other hand, is completely out to lunch. Arthur plays football and is tall and big and tough and strong but he appears to live on another planet. Actually he lives with his mother and grandmother – Lynne calls them the clown ladies. They both shave their eyebrows then paint them on in, well a clown-like fashion. So Victor-the brains, Curtis-Dr.Evil and Arthur-son-of-clowns are all AWOL. Coincidence? I think not.

Staff members who aren’t teaching are soon searching the campus for the missing boys (at this point we only know about Victor and Arthur since Neeley still hasn’t realized Curtis is missing). Lynne radios that I have a phone call. It is the front-end manager of Albertson’s grocery store. He tells me he caught three of our students wandering the store with two pounds of ground beef and a box of cheese crackers stuffed in their navy blue uniform shirts. The Deputy on Duty jumps in his squad car to pick up our AWOL boys.

Victor, Curtis and Arthur walked over three miles to get to Albertsons. They tell the Deputy they planned to climb on top of the roof of Scotty’s Hardware. It is unclear what they planned to do there and whether it involved the raw meat. RitaMae is certain Victor, her least favorite student, was the ringleader. The Deputy lectures, but doesn’t arrest the three boys.

The following day, Victor and Arthur are again reported as AWOL along with Mimi. Mimi is often AWOL so initially her departure from class doesn’t raise any red flags.

Mimi, a gifted thirteen-year-old white girl, was recently placed in a foster home. At the end of last semester her mother decided Mimi had done so well in school they should celebrate. Their celebration included going to parties at the homes of friends where Mimi and her mother smoked marijuana and drank alcohol together: mother-daughter bonding. In the wee hours of the morning, as they were making their way back home, Mimi walking, Mom on a bike, a Deputy drove up and told Mom to get off the bike. He said her repeated swerving into the middle of the road was liable to cause an accident. Mimi’s mother became belligerent and began to argue with the officer. She punctuated her verbal abuse by throwing a punch at him. The Deputy started to arrest her and she tried to fight him off. Assaulting an officer, resisting arrest, public drunkenness, I think there was even a possession charge. On top of that Mimi’s mother was already on probation for a previous drug charge. She was arrested, convicted, sentenced and is currently serving time in prison. Mimi likes to say her mother was arrested for BUI – biking under the influence.

Mimi is allowed to phone her mother every Sunday. Sometimes when she phones, her mother asks all about Mimi’s life and tells her she loves her, she misses her and she can’t wait until they are together again. But more than half the time when Mimi phones, her mother tells her she is no good as a mother, wishes she never had Mimi, doesn’t plan to get Mimi out of foster care when she is released from prison, doesn’t want to see Mimi again and then hangs up on her. On Monday mornings when Mimi gets off the bus, it is immediately apparent which sort of phone call she had with her mother the day before. In fact the tenor of these phone calls usually determines how Mimi will behave for most, if not all, of the week. Mimi’s bad weeks have caused a major rift between her teacher, RitaMae and counselor Rosie.

RitaMae takes extra time to design lessons and assignments that will challenge the gifted Mimi, and when Mimi is stable and having a good week, RitaMae is quick to acknowledge and praise her behavior and school work. But when Mimi is not having a good week and focuses her energy and powers on being vulgar, disruptive and in a word, bad, RitaMae has zero tolerance, insists Rosie remove Mimi and wants Mimi punished.

If Rosie has a favorite student, it is Mimi. Rosie finds it hard to discipline Mimi and of course Mimi is never as awful around Rosie as she is in RitaMae’s class. Rosie feels RitaMae should have some compassion for Mimi and try to understand her situation and cut her some slack on her “off” days. RitaMae, who grew up in a poor, dysfunctional family and overcame adversity though personal determination, believes Rosie is not doing Mimi any favors by coddling her. Both RitaMae and Rosie frequently share with me their frustrations about each other. Mimi sees it all, hears it all and revels in the discord. Sometimes before RitaMae gets on the walkie-talkie requesting a counselor to remove Mimi, Mimi bolts from the classroom in search of Rosie. Thus on this day, when RitaMae reports Mimi is AWOL, we assume that Mimi has done her usual and is hunting down Rosie.

Tashanna, one of our eagle-eyed bus drivers, breaks the story. She was gassing up her bus when she spotted Mimi, Victor and Arthur about a mile from school sprinting down 35th street. She thinks they might be headed for a nearby park. Lynne and I jump in my car and find them just past Publix. When they see me I expect them to run, but they hop in the car with Mimi punching her fist in the air shouting, “BUSTED!” As we drive back to school they are silent except when Mimi asks how long we were looking for them and Victor asks to open the window. Later in the cafeteria, I overhear the three runaways telling their classmates they were going to run when we pulled up, “but since Ms. Smee won that medal for running that race we didn’t have a chance.” The “medal” to which they refer, is hanging my office and I did get it in a race, but it was for simply finishing the Marathon, not for achieving any particular speed. However I see no point in correcting this misconception. On my way home I find the three “runners” left some contraband in my car: two lighters and half package of cigarettes.

Up until now, when students went AWOL, they left their classrooms but they didn’t leave the school grounds. This off-campus AWOL is a new twist and like the water balloons and elastics it quickly becomes a hot fad. I’m frustrated and perplexed. What is the protocol? What is my responsibility? This wasn’t in the education classes I took. I know about truants, not runaways. Word travels quickly and soon Prospect students and staff are buzzing about “the great escape.” Day after day more of them leave, three or four at a time. They head toward the grocery store, the park, the woods, away. Do I call the police? Should I send our Deputy to chase after them? Do I call their parents? Should I chase them in my car? At first teachers don’t even notice that several of their students are missing – that is troubling in itself. But after I discuss the problem in our morning meeting, teachers are more aware, but are now in panic mode, shouting into their walkie-talkies the names of the children who are running away.

Ironically, the Mime quickly becomes the prime example of how not to use the walkie-talkies. Her piercing voice, bordering on hysteria, announces every actual and possible AWOL. Since all staff members wear a walkie-talkie and they all operate on one frequency, any transmission is equivalent to a PA announcement: the whole school hears every missing student alarm. Like fleas on rats, this causes the AWOL epidemic to spread rapidly. Kids are running around campus hiding behind trees pretending to have run off campus. It is complete chaos. I cancel Activity Period until we get a handle on the situation.

When Victor runs away for the third time in a week, the Deputy sees him leave and shouts for him to stop, but Victor keeps running and the Deputy has to chase him down. Sweaty and angry, the Deputy decides to arrest Victor. He is in the process of filling out the paperwork when the walkie-talkie buzzes that Glenn is running. (Glenn is the small, academically challenged middle schooler who was in Midge’s elementary classroom for a while.) The overwrought Deputy decides to arrest Glenn with Victor. He handcuffs Glenn to the table leg while he finishes up the paperwork. Glenn tells the Deputy he ran because he heard that if you run and get arrested you get sent to a Youth Camp. Apparently poor confused Glenn thinks these “youth camps” are like summer camp rather than a prison camp.

At our 4:00-5:00 meeting the staff is really hostile and negative. I promise we’ll get a handle on these AWOL’s and suggest we start the meeting with everyone mentioning something that has worked well for them. Amazingly this works and my staff becomes a little more enthusiastic and positive. We brainstorm solutions to the AWOL problem. Stone wants us to use a code on the walkie-talkie and shows me a code sheet he has developed based on codes he used in Vietnam. I commend his effort, but his scheme is so complex the staff would need to consult decoder sheets before every broadcast. The team decides to use a simple code, instead of saying AWOL we’ll say, “Put so and so on the list.”

This procedure backfires almost immediately as some teachers, okay mostly the Mime, first scream about the runaway then use the code thus nullifying the code. The Mime shouts “URGENT URGENT Curtis is AWOL and running for the road, I mean, I mean PUT CURTIS ON THE LIST.” My students catch on immediately: “put on list” = AWOL.

Shasta has a better idea and I immediately approve it and kick myself for not taking action sooner: we order head sets for everyone. Even before the AWOL crisis, I’d been uncomfortable with students hearing and knowing about every walkie-talkie communication. “Walkie-talkie protocol” is on the agenda of our morning meetings at least once a week: Don’t talk about who needs meds, don’t use foul language, don’t use sarcasm. Stone has frequently been guilty of this last offense: “If someone doesn’t come remove Arthur from my class I’m going to dip him in honey and tie him to an ant hill.” More than once, parents and other visitors to our school have heard Stone’s “colorful” broadcasts and I’ve had to speak to him on this topic. As a team, we’ve talked about headphones before but so many teachers were opposed and I was insisting they do so many other things to which they were opposed, I decided to back down on this, but now the time has come to enforce the wearing of headsets. Everyone complies except RitaMae and Midge. RitaMae says she finds it distracting and Midge says can’t wear her walkie-talkie due to her obesity.

Looking back it is amazing how easy it was to solve the off-campus AWOL problem. After the headsets we don’t have another occurrence. I resolve to work hard on looking at trees rather than getting lost in the forest.

The AWOL problem was very visible, unlike the extortion ring.

Right or wrong, in public schools, teachers and principals know who the “good kids” are and who are the “usual suspects.” Clearly this prejudging is unfair and often leads to incorrect conclusions, but at Prospect where all the children are “bad”; trying to separate the wheat from the chaff is impossible. Case in point: five boys, some of whom turn out to be extortionists, while others are their victims.

Exhibit A: Manny, a student in Midge’s elementary classroom. He is the tiniest Prospect student and features an x-rated mouth. His repeated vulgarity and violence have caused him to be kicked off the volleyball team and he spends as much time sitting in the corner of the counselor’s office as he does in the classroom.

Exhibit B: Shandon, the boy with the overprotective mother who wouldn’t let him ride the bus after the false masturbating incident.

Exhibit C: Bernard, a thirteen-year-old black boy who isn’t new to Prospect but this rail thin child is often absent due to a serious medical condition requiring frequent hospitalizations. Bernard is on a list for a heart transplant. He lives with his mother, who holds a secretarial position in the local public schools, and with her boyfriend. Bernard’s bus driver reports that she wonders whether Mom’s boyfriend is abusive since the driver overheard Bernard telling his peers he needs to work out more so that “next time” he can stop his mother’s boyfriend. Bernard was recently involved in a minor shoving match which I broke up. I took Bernard and the other offender to my office and had them write down what happened. Bernard’s ability to express himself in writing was shockingly poor. Beautiful penmanship, but the spelling, sentence structure and organization were on a second grade level.

On a barely related matter, when Bernard was in the hospital recently, Jordan asked his class to make cards for him. Jordan shared the cards with me before mailing them to the hospital. Claymont, whose grandfather died when he was arrested wrote: “Get well my African Brother.” Tyryona who is now living with an optimistic cousin wrote: “I’m praying for you.” Karla, whose mother lives with the Rainbow People in The Forest, created a card with a beautifully drawn woodland scene on the front, inside she wrote a poem: “when you’re feeling down, look around at the shrooms on the ground.” Jevon, the elementary child who brags about his ability to pick pockets, was visiting Jordan’s room so he made a card too. He wrote: “Smoke Weed Forever.” Jordan did not send Karla and Jevon’s cards to the hospital . . . .

Exhibit D: Ethan, in the Mime’s class. Ethan is a white twelve-year-old boy living with both biological parents who are concerned and upset about his behavior, but at a loss as to what should be done. We’ve called them in twice in three weeks. First Ethan was observed masturbating on the bus. Unlike the “false masturbation with hand cream” incident in which Ethan was not involved, it appears this was the real thing and that Ethan was performing the act with pride to a very attentive audience. The second time we held a conference with Ethan’s parents was when he took the Mime’s water bottle during class, spit in it and returned it to her desk. Ethan and the class waited patiently until The Mime took a sip then several students felt duty bound to inform her of the saliva. The always emotional Mime began sobbing and gagging, tried to use the walkie-talkie but was unintelligible and ended up running from her classroom (AWOL teacher!). She headed straight for my office where she informed me she would have to go home for the rest of the day because she was wracked by “dry heaves” every time she thought about what Ethan did. She thought about it a lot.

Final exhibit: Garrett, a new student. Garrett is a tall, muscular fourteen-year-old black boy. I’ve seen him play football on Saturdays at Berke Jungers field, but unlike the rest of my student athletes, he is not interested in discussing this with me. When he first started at Prospect he wore an expensive jacket every day even when it was hot. I took him aside, explained the uniform policy, making the apt analogy to football, and told him if he wore the jacket again I would confiscate it. He did, I did. He was very angry and later that day he went AWOL, came to my office and stood over my desk demanding his jacket. I re-explained the policy: I will only release confiscated items to a parent or guardian. Garrett clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. I ignored him and returned to my work. I feigned surprise when I looked up a few minutes later and saw him still standing there. I told him he was dismissed and free to return to class. He did.

Manny, Shandon, Bernard, Ethan, Garrett and the extortion ring….

The Mime’s homeroom had just changed classes and as the students entered Sam’s room for math, Sam caught a glimpse of a $10 bill in Ethan’s hand. Money is contraband at Prospect. The only time students are permitted to carry cash is when they need it to buy meals and even then they can possess only enough for the day’s meals. Since most Prospect students are eligible for free meals, there are few who can legitimately claim their cash is for lunch. Sam called Ethan up to his desk and quietly asked for the money, reminding Ethan the cash will be locked up and will be returned only to a parent. Ethan jams the ten dollar bill into the pocket of his shorts and refuses to hand it to Sam. Sam insists and Ethan refuses. Sam radios for a counselor.

Rusty takes Ethan to his office but Ethan won’t talk or give up the money. When Rusty picks up the phone to call Ethan’s parents, Ethan starts to cry. He can’t give Rusty the money or he’ll get beaten up. Ethan refuses to elaborate. Rusty takes the money and in our morning meeting he suggests teachers make “extortion” a vocabulary word and see where class discussions lead. Transportation coordinator Shasta also asks the bus drivers to keep their ears open. Almost immediately the students start to snitch on each other and as usual, confusion reigns. In Midge’s class, after learning the word “extortion”, little Frankie says, “Hey Manny does that.” But a hard look from Manny stops Frankie mid-sentence. Several students request to speak with Rusty and Rosie. They are afraid to say much, but they suggest the counselors question Shandon and Bernard.

It takes many tips and several days but we finally sort out the facts and learn that Sweet Shandon was intimidating Ethan-the-spitter, demanding more and more money each week or else he, Shandon, would be unable to protect Ethan from Garrett. Meanwhile our sickly Bernard had been similarly extorting funds from elementary student, Manny-the-mouth. Shandon and Bernard paid a percentage to Garrett.

Manny’s mother is furious and curses at me for running such an unsafe school where her son feels he must pay to avoid getting hurt. Ethan’s parents are relieved that this time Ethan is a victim rather than an instigator and they thank us for solving the mystery of the money that has been disappearing from their wallets and purses. Shandon and Bernard’s mothers are shocked and upset, but realize, now that we mention it, that they have seen their sons with a lot of cash recently. Bernard’s mother cries. Shandon’s mother says she has never hit him but feels it might be time to start. Garrett’s mother withdraws him from Prospect and returns him to public school. He makes sure she picks up his confiscated jacket before leaving.

Rusty and Rosie believe many more children besides Ethan and Manny were paying for protection, but they are too afraid to come forward. My counselors do, however, feel confident that Garrett, Bernard and Shandon complete the extortion ring.

I can add to my list of appraisal accomplishments: put an end to off campus runaways and broke up an extortion ring.