Snapshots

Last week I gave my students a short piece to read about the role of school in their lives--not just the role of college, but the role of school in general. Had school served as a sanctuary to them? A place where they felt safe? Where they could flourish? I was curious, not just because I wanted to find out more about my students, but also because I'm a parent, and I love getting additional perspective on this whole school business. I was depressed to find out that school had NOT been a sanctuary for most of my students. They'd either hated it, or felt badly about themselves while in school, or gotten into so much trouble that they felt disconnected from what was going on around them. They have ended up in college, still wearing the burden of those first impressions, still bowed down by low self-esteem, and a wavering sense of what it all means. I wondered, then, about that population of students somewhere out there who love school, for I know they do exist. Why do they love it? What is it about those students? There must be a way to make school a better place for most children, though--especially for those children who really need it because no one is standing over their shoulders, pushing them on, smoothing the way, mending the cracks as they go. ************* L.'s had some trouble with bullies again this year--the same one kid who was involved in some incidents last year has not mended his ways this year. This is something, as a parent, I just don't understand. I know that the most loving, caring parents in the world can turn out a child who bullies, but still I wonder, what it is that can make a child say hurtful things to another, or, worse yet, act physically towards them? Yesterday, while L. and I waited in the carpool line for T.'s school to dismiss (the carpool line has proved so valuable for our one-on-one time so far. L. doesn't always want to talk with me, but some days he's quite chatty, and I learn so much) L. told me he had learned a new "technique" for dealing with this bully, a kid named J. "What is it?" I asked L. "I take those names J. calls me and I say them about myself before he has a chance to use them." Once I got past the brief heartbreaking image of this (L. standing on the playground in front of J. and declaring himself a "loser" or a "nerd") I was floored. I was even more taken aback to discover that L. had learned this strategy at guidance class--a place where he always vowed he could learn absolutely nothing. This was empowerment at its best, really. Take a name others call you and use it yourself--take the power away from the bully--snatch it right out of the air in front of them and squash it with the flat of your hand before it can do you harm.