Searching for Hope: Life at a Failing School in the Heart of America

20. It Never Stops Around Here

+ + + 20 IT NEVER STOPS AROUND HERE. Michael Robinson let out a sigh and stared at the smart-aleck freshman standing before him. It was only 8:15 am, but Robinson already knew this was going to be one of those days that seem to last forever . A special education teacher for more than a decade, he had recently been assigned to work in the discipline dean’s office as a backup to Terry Hoover. The office workload—the suspensions, expulsions, arrests, and preemptive strikes—had gotten to be too big for just one person. Robinson had long sought an opportunity to move into administration. On this day, he wondered why that had ever been a goal. In the first forty-five minutes of the school day, he’d already dealt with a handful of class-skipping students and a potential fight between two girls. And now he had to deal with the smart-aleck freshman, a boy named Rrien who had enrolled in Manual at the start of February and in the two weeks since had missed his fourth-period class nearly every day. He stood in Robinson’s office wearing a pair of tattered khakis, a red shirt, and a smirk. Robinson pulled up the boy’s class records on his computer and noticed that Rrien’s middle name was listed only as the initial P. He tried to make conver- 186 searching for hope sation with the student in the hope of relaxing him and figuring out what was causing his problems. It didn’t work. “What’s the P for?” Robinson asked in a friendly voice. Rrien waited for a few seconds before finally answering. “I’d rather not say.” Robinson sighed, and the two stared at each other for another second or two. “Okay, well, what’s your home number?” Robinson asked. Nothing would be easy with this student. “It should be on there,” Rrien replied. Robinson gave the freshman a hard look and demanded the number. Rrien gaveitafterthethirdrequest,andRobinsonturnedbacktohiscomputerscreen. He noticed that the boy’s mother’s name was Buffy. “That’s an unusual name,” he said, sounding friendly again. “I’ve never met anyone named Buffy.” “You still haven’t,” Rrien informed him. That was three smart-alecky comments in a row. But Robinson took it well. He was a mild-mannered guy. He smiled, congratulated the boy on his wit, and put the phone on speaker. He dialed the student’s number, and after a few rings an answering machine picked up. A little girl, who sang the message cutely and loudly, delivered the outgoing message. Robinson hung up the phone and laughed. Rrien didn’t look happy. He seemed embarrassed and took a seat in a chair along the wall. “Did I offer you a seat?” Robinson said, knowing he had to keep control of his office. “No,” Rrien said. “Then stand back up.” “Yes, sir.” Robinson looked over the student’s attendance record. The worst problem was fourth period. But he was missing other classes, too. Robinson asked why he didn’t like going to his classes. “Mr. Page is a nice guy,” Rrien said. “I went to his class one day.” Robinson then asked specifically about the fourth-period classes the student had missed the previous two days. “Where do you go?” he asked. “I hang out.” “Where’s the hangout?” “Mickey D’s,” Rrien said. “I got a Big Mac both days, sir.” He emphasized the “sir,” and Robinson sighed again, asking the student what kind of grades he was getting during his short time at Manual. “Straight Fs, sir.” It never stops around here. 187 “You’re a smart kid,” Robinson said. “That’s what bothers me here—a smart kid trying to be dumb. That’s like a pretty girl trying to look ugly. It makes no sense. How were your grades at your last school?” “I flunked a lot there too.” “Was there a McDonald’s near there too?” another teacher sitting in the room asked. “Actually, yes,” Rrien said. ThiswasenoughforRobinson.“Lookhere,dude,”hesaid.“Firstandforemost, you need to be in class.” He told him to stop trying to be dumb, to embrace the fact that he was intelligent, and then sent him back to class with a warning that he’d better make it there. Just to be clear, he announced he would be calling Rrien...