You Never Know

You've heard the saying.  It gets paraphrased multiple ways and credited to various sources, but it essentially goes something like this:

Be kind, for you do not know the battle someone is fighting.

We get taught lessons in this constantly.  And I love when I get a second to breathe & write one of those moments down. This one really touched me.

 I was in the grocery store and noticed a young woman who was in uniform (Crest) and had a daughter in tow.  I live closer to the charter high school I worked at for three years NOW than I did when I actually worked there.  That was roughly 2007-2010.  I have the very fun experience of now running into several graduates that I had as students.  One of my favorite scenarios:  I get my meds filled by a wonderful young man that I had as a 6th grader for an elective class for the middle school (attached to the HS).  He was kind and quiet then, still very kind demeanor now.  He hands me my little sack and says, "Here ya go, Miss Curl!" then winces & corrects himself every time.  (I assure him that it's cool, I can forever be Miss Curl to my students).  This school felt very communal. Aside from that one year when I stepped in to have 110 6th graders for an elective (that I of course essentially turned into a Musical Reading class), I only had my small caseload of students I directly served,but I knew nearly every kid in the building.  We all did.  That was a  fun aspect there.

So, this girl looked familiar.  She wasn't one of 'mine.' Yet I was almost certain she went there.  I took a chance & just asked.

Thankfully, it was her & she seemed to recognize me.  I wasn't sure she would.  See, Tess* was in & out of trouble, often not at school, and our paths only really crossed one very turbulent week in her life.
At that point my office was right by the assistant principal and I had really grown fond of his philosophies with the kids.  He was a Good One.

He called me in to his office for help one day, maybe because he knew I was taking counseling classes after work. Maybe simply because I was a woman.  (I was totally cool to take a break from my mountains of SPED paperwork). Tess was in tears in his office.  He wanted me to hear out this situation and possibly help him with her "purse dump" in case there were female-related items.  See, she was getting busted for drugs.  Details are fuzzy, but I believe it was pills, Vicadin maybe?  But, yes, she was busted.   The three of us talked a long time.  She cried & yelled at various points.  There was language.  She was out of control at times.  It wasn't particularly wild to me.  I had just spent three years at an Alternative School and had definitely seen much rougher.  Of course she was suspended, but Mr. S took an ample amount of time to just talk with her.  He listened.  He didn't take phone calls or other matters (which, of course, are always coming at an AP). The situation defused.  She left understanding that he did what he had to.  (This may have even still been during the days of Zero Tolerance on nearly every offense).  She left knowing that someone Genuinely Cared.


The details really are vague for me now, but no matter. My important memory from that turbulent time with Tess was that I saw what a great model looks like in Mr. S.  He truly handled her situation with Grace, Compassion, yet (Necessary) Consequences.  But I guarantee when all was said & done, she left the situation feeling more of the "ashamed I let Mr. S down" natural consequence than Anger or Teen Rebellion/I-Hate-Everyone.  I noticed she came up to the school to check in with him, even during her required suspension.   Maybe they had a deal going.  Maybe she really needed a positive male role model.  Maybe she just needed to be up there & not at home.  She even came to my office once just to 'check in' with me even though she barely knew me.

She got it together for the most part and graduated a year later, I believe.  I didn't see her much after that.  It was my last year there since I was about to get married, go FT into my schooling, and only occasionally sub there for extra cash.

And the other day at the grocery she grinned really wide.  She told me she had 3 kids with one on the way.  
Her eyes sparkled. 
I hope & pray that drugs are not in her life.  She seemed to be doing pretty good.  
I am glad she remebered me.  I told her I was glad she remembered me. I told her I specifically remember how Mr. S was good to her during a rough part of life.

"Oh, yes, that was around 2008, right?  That was the year my mom died."

If that was something she brought up that day in his office I don't remember. I don't *think* she got that personal with me. I feel like I'd remember if so.  Regardless, it is certain her mom's passing would've been 1 or 1.5 years prior to that afternoon we pow wowed with the principal.  She may have been using drugs from the moment she began the horrible journey of grief; perhaps even before.

But, geez, almost 10 years later I am even more grateful that role models like Mr. S come to our schools, especially our inner city schools where so many kids--littles and teens alike---are needing so much more than "just" a teacher or a principal.  I wish I could call him with this update; we've lost touch over the years.

Be kind.  We are all fighting battles.  --paraphrased by Lisa   :)

*changed for privacy