Fleeting Hope

Let me tell you about DJ.

DJ is definitely one of my kids with a 'street' side to him.  He is a little rough around the edges.  Despite the endearing dimples on either side of his up-to-no-good smirk, his face is riddled with a kind of cold hardness, and his eyes are shadowed with thoughts too heavy for a 14-year-old.  His upper arms are covered in bizarre carvings--ropes of puckered-up scars twining down his biceps.  On his left forearm, a sizeable chunk of flesh is missing.  He says a neighborhood Rottweiler attacked him.  I almost hope that story is true, for fear of how else it could have gotten there.

He likes to pick on other kids.  He makes them take his tray at lunch or give him their pencils and pens.  He'll bow up on other kids when they make any kind of joking comment directed towards him.  Several times I've caught him slapping people on the back of their heads or "booming" them to the ground.  Never without his dimpled smirk.  

For some reason, DJ always has to sit by me at lunch.  I don't know why; it's not like he actually talks to me once he's there.  He'll respond when I make fun of his team (USC) or brag on mine, but other than that, he pretty much eats his lunch in silence.  If for some reason I sit on a different side of the table or down a couple of seats, though, he'll change his seat too.  If someone else is sitting there when he comes to the table, he commands them out of "his" seat.

DJ never comes to class prepared.  Every day I have to provide him with paper and pencil.  The other day, I was in the middle of allocating his daily materials when he jumped up and slapped another kid on the head.  I'd had about all I could take that day.  I slammed down the notebook I had just retrieved from my cabinet and yelled at him.  "I'm in the act of giving you a brand new notebook so you can have one for my class and you get up and do this??! SIT DOWN. DO YOUR WORK.  SAY THANK YOU!!"

"You gon' buy me a backpack too?"

"NO I'm not going to buy you a backpack!!"  My voice dripped with sarcasm.

I forgot about this little exchange until the next day when I was calling roll.  The computer screen was being projected on the wall, so all the kids were watching as I scrolled down the roster.  

"DJ's birthday was yesterday!" they noticed.

"DJ, was it your birthday yesterday??"

I turned to look at him.  His head was down, embarrassed.  The smirk was still there, but it was strained.  "Naw, man," he said, shaking his head.

"Yes it was! It was!" they all laughed.

A stab of guilt.  Why had I snapped on him yesterday? True, he was not doing what he was supposed to.  I had been frustrated with him because he never brings anything to class.  But honestly, if your mom never buys you class materials and you don't even own a backpack to carry them in, how can I really expect you to come prepared? Then to answer him so mockingly when he asked if I would get him what he needed...

It was his birthday, but instead of being excited and telling me first thing (like most of my other students would have), he was embarrassed for people to find out.  Embarrassed, because nobody else made a fuss over him.  I thought about going through my whole birthday day without a single person knowing or caring that it was my birthday.  Not a single card, not a single candle, not a single song.  Not even a single "Happy Birthday!"  I would be a little sad, and I'm a grown woman.  Then again, DJ might be used to it.  Which is even sadder.

Yesterday I pulled DJ aside in between classes.  "DJ," I said, "I'm looking over your work from today--first of all, I'm in shock that you actually did it.  But as I'm going over your answers, I'm noticing that they're all right.  You only finished half of them but they're all right.  A lot of people were having trouble with this today, but you got them all.  So now I want you to tell me why you don't do your work--because I know it's not because you can't."

DJ looked down, shrugging.  "I don't know.  I just don't.  I already know this stuff, I don't need to."

"You already know this stuff?" I asked, doubting.  "What's an index fossil?"

"Um...you know.  It-it's that fossil of an animal that only lived a short time or somethin'"

"Okay...what does the Law of Superposition state?"

"That the oldest rocks, they on the bottom."

Back and forth we went, me asking him questions, he responding to them all correctly.

"What, Ms. M--this like a pop quiz or somethin'?"

I asked him what he did last year in his classes.  He said he failed them put passed all the End of Grade tests.  I asked him how long he'd been performing like this in class, not doing any work.

"A long time."

"DJ, you are obviously very smart.  If I thought you were dumb, I wouldn't be bothering you.  I'd let you sit in the back and sleep all day because it wouldn't matter.  But you're not.  Far from it.  You could have the highest grade in this class.  But you're failing.  In fact, you're failing all of your classes, and that is unacceptable.  Because you are going to leave here next year and you can't make it through high school like this.  You DEFINITELY can't graduate without doing your work.  And DJ, you could really make something of yourself.  You've got what it takes."

He nodded his head, not looking at me, but listening.

"So, what I want you to do starting tomorrow is to complete all your work in this class.  I want your grade in this class to reflect what you know--which is a lot.  But in order for that to happen you have to do your work.  And I almost forgot..." I walked to the cabinet and unlocked it.  "I can't believe you didn't tell me the other day was your birthday!"  I took out a backpack from the cabinet.  "Now, no excuses for not having your work--promise?"

DJ grinned--a real grin now--and nodded his head before running out the door.

Today DJ came in and immediately started on his contour map analysis.  He didn't stop until he was through.  He came up to me and put it on my desk. "Here," he said gruffly and returned to his seat.

I just graded it. 100%--the only one of the class.