second day.

The morning was going pretty well. Two more children arrived, bringing my class up to 23. I was even comfortable enough to go to the lounge to make a few copies. On the way I passed one of the doors to the stairwell and heard the screaming as I drew near. Through the small window on the door, I glanced and saw a principal and counselor restrain a screaming child. Screaming. Echoing.

Oh yeah. Oh yeah, there's that, too.

Maybe it was a premonition for my afternoon, not that there was screaming. But when we were lining up to go outside for recess (gorgeous day), A didn't want to come. Stood refusing to get on line, shaking his head no. "C'mon, A, I need to you be the door holder." It worked. He got on line behind the leader, the other coveted position.
We were outside for a few minutes when he looked at me and stated simply, "I'm out." He swaggered along the fence toward the door.
Oh crap, I thought. Here we go.

A was in my class last year. He was in foster care for a year and half because of domestic violence. His brothers were placed in two other separate homes, one was allegedly molested where he was kept. They were all reunited in March, with their parents, back at home.
I don't know details. I do know that A gets into fits of rage that seem to come out of nowhere; you can't track where it came from, he just turns on a dime. And when he's there, in that space, it's almost impossible to get through to him. I've seen him throw chairs, overturn tables, push a kid so hard the kid went flying. His face turns red, his eyes get glassy and his fists clench. He poofs out his chest and storms. And most of the time, there's nothing I can do but evacuate the rest of the class from the room and call the counselors and/or the principal.

Last spring he told me his parents had a party and both his mom got into a fight with a guest, and his dad got into a fight. Of course there was plenty of drinking.

A week later he came in cheerful, and told me that he beat up a kid at the park the evening before. "He cried. And I made him bleed on his face."
He smiled at me, as if I were going to give him a high five or something.
"A," I said, "That's not cool."

He shrugged and walked away.

So today, there he was, bolting outside. Another teacher offered to talk to him. He ran from her, to the fence, which he climbed and scaled. "Call the office," she told me.

He was heading to the parking lot so I followed him. The more I followed the quicker he ran, so I turned around and left. I know from past experience that if I don't follow him, it's not as much fun and he eventually crosses my path just for reaction. Which is what he did. I fell for it, and called out "A, I don't know what happened, I can't help you unless I know why you're running." He sped his pace, to another out of bounds area.

I turned around and walked away, again. Counselors arrived.

Ugg.. the story is exhausting just to tell. Anyway he was eventually cornered and the asst. Principal, a very authorative man, stepped in. They escorted him inside. I don't know how that went.

Later the other asst. principal, new to the staff, called on the phone in our classroom wanting an incident report. Standard. I filled it out and brought one down to her office.

She told me A was calm now, and that she gave him some cheese and crackers. They used puppets to demonstrate non-violent communication, and "he really liked that. I don't think he'll be back here again, will you A?"

A is back to being sweet, hugs me and hands me a drawing with the words "Ms. Lowe, I won't run away from you again."

I point to the part where the incident report is checked "pattern of behavior." I flip it over and point to the part I wrote in purple ink "this is familiar behavior from last year. We need to discuss strategies." Ms. new principal is saying that she thinks he's ready to come back to the classroom, doesn't it seem? And he'll do better tomorrow. She reads as she talks. I point to the part that I wrote "I don't feel safe bringing him outside." She says, "Maybe as a consequence he should come to my office tomorrow during recess." A shakes his head, No, no, no. I say, "I think that's fair."

I have so many sweet kids in my class; they really are a good bunch, even A. They are beautiful, they are so innocent on one hand, and too many of them so grossly exposed to circumstances no one should experience.

I don't always know what to do. I don't always know how to react. I work on instinct. I talk about peace, community, and safety All The Time.

It's the second day. It is a long year ahead looking from the second day. I do the best I can.