Fighting and voting...

Another swell day in junior high. This morning before the bell rang in homeroom was pretty typical. The kids were running amok, talking to each other excitedly about what they were doing with their long weekend and ignoring me and the teacher as we vainly tried to get them into their desks. A young fellow named Chris was over on my side of the room showing off some pictures from the Valentine's Day Dance we had last week. My kid, Justin, jokes around with Chris quite a bit and thought it would be funny to throw a paper ball at him. He hit Chris on the cheek and Chris's face went very dark.

WHACK! Chris slaps Justin across the face and Justin is out of his desk ready for war. I leap between them and tell Chris we need to go to Mr. Nat (the assistant principal) and sort this out. I put my hand on Chris' sholuder to lead him out and he twisted around and pushed me away. I looked at him with total disbelief and put my hand back on his shoulder. "March!" Chris starts protesting his innocence in the affair saying that Justin hit him and we aren't going to do anything to him, are we? I tell him that he needs to shut his mouth and we'll settle with Justin in a minute. But he is taking priority.

He burst into tears as we stood outside of Mr. Nat's office waiting for him to arrive. Another teacher passed by and opened the door for me with a look of complete empathy for this situation. When we got inside CHris began bouncing around the room calling me every name in the book. All I can think of doing is telling him to calm down. We'll sort this out. Tears are streaming down this kid's face and I don't know how to feel at all. I realize that my hands are shaking from the adrenaline. I'm kind of scared and can't form words or clear thoughts. Mr. Nat came in and wanted to know who Chris ahd smarted off to now. I explained the situation and Mr. Nat's face gets very grave indeed. I go fetch Justin and Mr. Nat and I give him a good talking to about throwing things and tell Chris to watch his temper. Since there wasn't really a fight I convince Mr. Nat and the homeroom teacher that the incident does not need to be written up and the day proceeds on its regular course.

Violence just freaks me out. I mean I love violent movies and stuff just as much if not more than the next guy. But real violence even violence between children makes me very very afraid. Not that I could get hurt but that I could contribute. I mean, did I let this happen? Did I make it happen by not doing my job? Afterward, did I handle it the way it should have been handled? Should we have suspended the boys? What did they learn from this if they learned anything? And what have I learned?

The kids went to a play today for Black History Month but naturally not all the kids could pony up the $5 to go. I stayed in school with them while Justin went to the play with his classmates. Figuring that they needed a dose of Black History themselves I brought a copy of Chisolm '72: Unbossed and Unbought for them to watch. I'm not going to tell you that they were riveted by the story of this middle aged, homely woman taking on the power structure of elctions in the 1970s but I'm glad I turned them on to it. Some of them watched. And some of them will register to vote when they turn 18. When I asked them about voting the class said "We'll vote for you, Mr. Dunn!" I laughed, but it made me feel really good inside. As good inside as the fight made me feel bad inside. I am trying.