one student (assigned)

So I’ll just call him…Dave, just for the heck of it. Dave, oh Dave. He drove me crazy for most of the year. We had two parent conferences. I tried calling his mom, and talked to her, only to have him come back the next day complaining to his friends that I called his mom. And I know she didn’t do any kind of disciplining. She’s a sweet mother, too sweet than he needs right now. Yet…I know he hasn’t had it easy. His father died not long ago, and she’s doing what she can. He has a temper, and I really expect he has ADD. I’ve learned the hard way that you have to learn to talk to students in different ways, knowing how they are and how they react. Dave didn’t pay attention in class. He isn’t a note-taker, as he proclaimed, which really would have almost been okay (except for the notebook checks) but he wasn’t paying attention anyway. He was flirting, with me and any other female in the room.
Yet, I never could help being concerned for him. I’ve seen him play basketball several times. He’s the team captain. While in school, he rarely wears the correct uniform shirt and never tucks it in on his own. Yet, when he’s on that court, he keeps them all in line. He makes sure all the boys have those jerseys tucked in. He’s respectful to the coaches and the ref’s. I know he wanted it, but he wasn’t a ball-hog; in fact, I would say the team would have played better if he hadn’t passed so much. He was aggressive, and I could see him getting mad, but it seemed more at himself than at anyone else. I could see the goodness in him.
I’ve seen it in the classroom before, too, but it was only once in a blue moon. He told me, and I agree, that he should have been in a different period, one that wasn’t full of so many of his friends to play around with. They looked up to him, and he naturally assumed the role as one of the lead clowns. He was supposed to be the bad boy, and he was. He couldn’t take tests and quizzes with people around, and would often check out of school so he wouldn’t have to, so that he could make it up later during my planning period or after school so he could concentrate and have my full attention. He needed lots of attention, lots of prodding, and a lot of assurance.
I guess I chose Dave to blog about because I think he’s like a lot of students. He’s had it hard, and he’s not nearly as bad as he seems. He’s around friends and cute girls, and he’s showing out. He’s smart, oh was he bright when he wanted to be; he certainly has it in him. So many of them do, but they don’t have the will and they don’t have the strength to be a “nerd” in a classroom full of friends who don’t care. One of my physics students told me that Dave was a softie, that she had dated him back in elementary school and he was nothing but sweet, that he had cried, and that he was bullied. I believe it, and I wish students didn’t have to be so mean. I wish caring was the cool thing.