Connor came into the room first period. I was busy playing with my MP3 player. I had just bought cheap new earplugs at the 24 hour drugstore, since the old cheap earplugs had fallen apart. I should have been in my first period class, but my middle-aged self has apparently turned into a 21st century adolescent.
I will someday devote a whole entry to Connor For now suffice it to say that the principal used him as an example of resilience. When his whole world fell apart- he continued to come to school and work on a diploma.
But he's got to work a bit harder. He came in to apologize that he hasn't been coming for extra help.
"It's hard for me to get out of bed in the morning." Connor explained.
"It's hard for me to get out of bed in the morning too- and you have been only doing it for 17 years, I've been doing it for more than fifty- It's cold and dark and scary out there," I admitted, "but I get up and out."
Connor didn't come for help after school either. I got to chase him down next week. Graduation is close, but it can still be elusive if he doesn't make it out into the cold, dark, scary world a little quicker, and more often.
The ninth grade science teacher asked a question about cells. Tina raised her hand. That amazed the kid sitting next to me.
"First time ever, Tina raised her hand," he reported to me. (In this inclusion class I was sitting at one of the tables).
And Tina answered the question in a barely audible voice, but correct and complete.
The teacher moved on, less impressed then my ninth grader neighbor.
"Wow- Even Tina can learn this," he added.
Two teachers, one peer critic- Tina doesn't have a chance of becoming invisible