THE FEAR OF GOD

Today I made a student cry.

Now, before you go on judging me out of context, let me explain why I was justified in my actions and how it was not really me that made him cry, but something more akin to terror. Let's just say I put the fear of God into him.

The young man in question has pretty much not done a single thing since I started three weeks ago. I'm not exaggerating--he literally has not done a single classwork assignment or homework assignment in three weeks.

So I finally said "I think it would be good if I called your parents today to tell them that you don't do your work in my class." His eyes got big. He stopped.

"No, I'll do my work! I'll bring it in tomorrow." What, all 12 pieces of missing work? He doesn't even have the instructions for anything anymore.

"No," I replied, "I'm gonna call them today. I don't understand why you don't do anything. Maybe they can help."

Panic sets in. My student counters, "No, I'll do it! I'll come in at lunch."

Me: "It's just been too long. I gotta call them."

Pleads, "I'll stay in at lunch every day until the end of the year!"

Now stop. Think about that last sentence that speaks volumes. Really? Is the pain of punishment at home so bad that he would volunteer himself three months' worth of detentions? Seriously.

But I hate compromise, and believe that rescinding on my word encourages slackers. So I told him I'm sorry, but I am going to call them today.

And he leaves my classroom (to go to another detention), leaning against the wall, clearly dealing with some major inner turmoil. He wipes his eyes with the hood of his green jacket that he wears every day. His voice cracks, "Please...Mr. V?"


I'll tell you the rest in two days.