ELLEN
BERG
Diary #33
Dion Tests the Limits of Caring
Successful teaching is an endless dance of chances. No matter how often we walk away believing we just do not have the talent, strength, or fortitude to be successful at a task, more often than not, once the inner argument of "Leave it alone until next year, next kid, next life," subsides, good teachers take advantage of the next day and the chances to begin anew.
I am trying to become one of the good ones.If keeping this diary has taught me anything, it is that teaching and learning are recursive. We visit and revisit old concepts and situations, taking steps forward and back as we discover new aspects of old ideas. Just when we think we really understand something or that there are no answers to a problem, something happens that proves us wrong.
The Story of Dion
Let me tell you about Dion. Dion is one of those very challenging students who push you to the edge because regardless of what consequence is assigned, he not only continues the behavior but also intensifies it. When I look at Dion I see not his failure, though he certainly holds some responsibility for it, but the failure of his parents, teachers, and school to help him become a successful student and citizen.Dion was in the sixth grade last year and was recommended for retention because of the F's he earned in every class except band all four quarters. The team worked persistently with his parents who alternately supported or resisted working with us as the mood struck.
One conference might produce lightning bolts of, "You WILL see a change in Dion starting tomorrow!" while the next might produce memory losses concerning previous conferences about Dion not turning in work. Whether for or against us, however, Dion's behavior changed not one iota. In our final conference for the year, our principal informed the parents he would be in the sixth grade again.
Fall semester arrived, the parents pleaded with my principal to give Dion another chance, and the principal caved. Dion was promoted to seventh grade where he not only continued to turn in no work but he began to ditch classes and openly challenge teachers, something he had not done the year before. F's again abounded, and at the end of the semester my principal returned Dion to the sixth grade. You can imagine much of the rest.Everyone on my team tried to help him get himself together. We have talked with him privately, given him chance after chance to turn in work, attempted to help him meet the goal of returning to seventh grade within the five-week trial period. Dion, however, has actively resisted anyone's help and seems to have his own goal in mind, namely getting put out of everyone's classroom so as to be in class as little as possible.
For my teammates who felt like they had given it their best and who feel the crush under the many behavioral issues of our kids this year pressing for their attention, enough finally arrived.
It seemed like my relationship with Dion, however, was pretty good. I discovered that if I used over-the-top humor to get my point across to him, I had few problems and he would actually do a little work. At one point last quarter he even had a C which he promptly lost after being suspended for 10 days. I discovered he could do the work, but for some reason he was choosing not to.
Searching for Dion
Dion has a habit of getting "lost" between classes, and so I regularly looked in his usual hiding spaces at the beginning of each class to reclaim him for my room, telling him I just could not bear the idea of teaching class without him in it.
One day while I was going on with my best dramatics about how hurt I felt because he obviously could not stand me or my class since I always had to go looking for him, he said, "I like it when you come find me. This is my favorite class." However, shortly after that exchange, I no longer had to look for him because he was always waiting for me in line.
Let me tell you, I was feeling a little smug. Here's this boy no one else can stand or manage, and I have him doing what I want. I had spent a lot of time thinking about him, trying to figure out why he was acting the way he was, and I decided it was all for attention from his parents.
His parents talked a good game in front of us all fire and brimstone, but it became obvious they had little impact on his behavior. We never saw any follow-through with anything they said they would do, and Dion was left mostly to his own devices. In class he seemed eager to do whatever he could to not only get suspended but to get suspended for something worth talking about. For example, just recently he asked the sub in a very conversational tone if she performed oral sex, though not exactly in those terms. It is for those reasons and many more that I think his primary goal is to get his parents' attention.
Well, let me tell you, you should never, ever feel too smug. Just when you think you have all the answers, life has a way of throwing a bee in your soda can. Fourth block on Thursday, Dion and three of his classmates were nowhere to be found. I checked the usual places‹nothing. Finally, thirty-five minutes into the period, the four of them entered my room like nothing happened. They acted as if I was crazy for expecting them to be in my classroom and not wherever else they had been during that time.I was angry with them, but more than that I was angry with myself for believing I had made any difference with Dion. I felt like he had just been playing along with me, waiting for the moment to show me I was a fool for thinking I meant anything in his life. Indeed, I did feel foolish for wasting my time on someone who thought it was fun to sneer at the adults who were trying to help him.
"We've done all we can"
I talked with my principal after school and tried to express how disappointed and shocked I was that he had pulled that stunt on me. She said, "Why? Don't worry about it. We have done everything we can for him, so don't worry about him." She said exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted someone to tell me I owed him nothing more, that, indeed, there was nothing I could do to help him. I wanted to abdicate my responsibility to him, and I decided there would be none of the cajoling or Dion-hunting as there had been in the past. If he wanted to skip, I would simply inform the office and move on.I went to school on Friday determined to put Dion behind me. My pride was hurt, and I felt justified in my decision to cut him loose. When I went to let my students into my classroom, Dion, instead of standing in line with the rest of the students, was sitting on the floor of the hallway. As students filed into the classroom I told him to come inside, but he said, "I can't; I can't get up."
He looked as if he expected me to go on one of my humorous rants then looked truly shocked as I said, "Fine, if you don't want to come to class, I'll just inform the office you are skipping." I turned on my heel, walked the two doors to the office, and asked the secretary to inform the principal. I was sure that when I returned to my room, Dion would be gone. After all, he had finally gotten what he wanted from me.
I was wrong. Sitting quietly in his assigned seat was Dion, not doing the assigned task, but at least in the room. I was shocked but still determined to push him aside. We returned to a poem we had worked with the day before, and the class began sharing their ideas of moments in their lives they could "explode" in slow motion in a poem like the author of the poem had. After our discussion, students began working on writing their own poems.I had pretty much ignored Dion since he seemed intent on doing no work for the day, so I was surprised when I looked up and saw him bent over his writing tablet, writing. Unless you know Dion, you do not know what a big deal that was. Not only was he working, he had actually brought a notebook and a pencil to class. That was unprecedented.
He needs someone as stubborn as he is
All of my earlier oaths to write Dion off as a loss disappeared. I have realized I let my pride get in the way. I have made a difference with Dion, and to quit just because he made a bad choice is an equally bad choice on my part. He needs someone in his life to care enough or be stubborn enough not to give up when things get really tough. And so I have spent the weekend thinking about Dion, wondering what steps I need to take next. I think that now I have developed a relationship with him I need to move from the humor and positive attention to some more serious discussions. Like, what do you want from your life? What is going on with you? What can I do to help? We can't give up. If we give up, what does that teach our students? That they are unworthy of our help? That they are unfixable? Yes, it is hard, and we take a lot of abuse and suffer many setbacks, but we have to try again and again until they are either back on track or out of our care. It is our responsibility.
