One of the benefits of teaching the same students over a period of time is the chance to know them well, but with that knowledge comes responsibility, especially if there's a change in them. This has recently happened to me, and I had to make a difficult decision.
Bobby, a senior, has been with me for two years. He's sweet, kind and compassionate, intelligent, and fun. He's a good listener, attentive to others and a hard worker. At least that's been true until this semester. Bobby also has a friend, Travis, who's intelligent, lazy, irresponsible, mean, and essentially the antithesis of Bobby. I've long suspected Travis's involvement with drugs, and I hoped that Bobby would avoid them and Travis's negative influence.
Unfortunately, Bobby has changed this semester from his happy-go-lucky self into a stranger. He's distant, inattentive, and lazy. He's lost a great deal of weight and generally looks bad. I talked with him a few weeks ago, to see if I could find out if everything was okay, and he gave me the usual speech teens give interfering adults: "I'm fine, just tired. I'm working too much. I'm stressed out." I repeatedly hear these words from my students, and I know they're only telling me part of their story. I thought, however, Bobby would be different; I don't know why.
This past Friday, I was told by others that Bobby and Travis are into drugs, and I was upset. Travis, sure. His parents make excuses for him and call him in "sick" frequently when he doesn't want to go to school. Bobby was truly upsetting. The hardest part, sometimes, of being a teacher is knowing information about students and deciding what to do with it.
I carried this information with me on our short weekend trip, through Mother's Day, to bed, and throughout Monday morning. I finally decided that I couldn't let this information slide; I needed to let Bobby's parents know. Naturally, I'm a coward, so I emailed first, but I ended up talking on the phone to his mom. My heart broke as she cried, telling me she's had her suspicions too. We talked awhile, and I referred her to Bobby's counselor.
What motivated my decision was my own son. I hope he'll have a teacher some day who sees him as more than a seat in the classroom, who cares about his well-being. I hope he will have a teacher who will make a hard call to us if she or he suspects something is going on with our son. Although my students are not 'my' children, they are entrusted to me by their parents, to look after them, to care for them, and yes, to make hard calls when I suspect something is not right with them. I take this trust, this responsibility seriously.
While I haven't seen Bobby as yet this week, I hope he will some day reflect on this time and understand that my intentions are good. I want what's best for him, as any parent and/or teacher wants for their kids. I want Bobby to go to college, be successful, and have a great career and life. Mostly though, I hope I'm wrong about the changes I've seen in him this semester.
It was a hard call to make, but I hope the end results are positive.
