Little Miss Angry Teen

The second year that I was a teacher, a large majority of the student body knew me as a police officer. I had been a DARE officer in many of their elementary schools; all of their middle schools; and a few of their 10th grade health classes. Kids were still asking me if I was working undercover in the school. I had arrested a few of them and many of their relatives. I had a reputation of being strict but fair.

A new girl was placed in my Algebra 1A class a couple of months into the school year. She was short, stocky, street smart, angry, and in a nut shell, education was not her greatest concern. Usually, I can connect with this type child. I have been in their homes and know the horrors of their lives so I don't sweat the small stuff. I set parameters and define consequences of going outside those parameters. If they mess up, they suffer the consequences. After they serve their sentence, I treat them as if they had never had an infraction.

I pride myself on having this ability. In fact, when I took over the high crime unit, the ‘boys’ tried me by defying an order and I followed through just like I told them I would. After, I acted like it never happened. One of my guys, RA that had been in the military, told a friend of mine that I was the best supervisor he had ever had because of this trait. I was honored at the compliment.

Back to the girl, she got into trouble a lot and was in and out of in-school suspension. I would take the time to go see her and check to see if she understood the assignment that I sent her. She actually wasn’t that far behind in math, not like most of the others in that class. Her behavior just got in the way of her learning.

One day, I noticed that she was writing a note instead of paying attention in class. When that happens, I float around the room until I can come up behind the transgressor. I remove the note from their desk and put it in my pocket. Later, when students are otherwise engaged, I read it. If it is just kid stuff, I give it back at the end of class and warn the student not to write notes in class. If it has inappropriate content, I send the note to the assistant principal to handle in whatever manner needed.

I float up behind her, reach down and pick up the note. Like a cat after a toy, she reached out and snatched the note from my hand! In the process, her nails clawed a great deal of skin off the back of my hand. My class froze …..watching…..waiting for my reaction. It all happened in a flash but it felt like slow motion….. I reached toward her …..in my mind, I was planning how I would snatch her out of her desk, body-slam her in the floor, cuff her…WAIT…MENTAL BRAKES APPLIED!

I froze …. TEACHER…..TEACHER…chill, think…..

I knelt down by her desk and in a very still quiet chilling voice, I said, “Don’t you ever touch me again. Get up quietly and follow me to the office. Do not say one word.” The look in my eyes and on my face must have meant something because she did exactly what I told her to do. I turned her over to the assistant principal who acquired the other half of her note without incident. I returned to my room. Everyone was diligently working, not normal behavior for teenagers when a teacher has to leave them unattended.

She came back to class after several days of in-school suspension. One of the hardest things that I ever did was to treat her as if the whole thing never happened but I did. She had good days occasionally, but mostly she was still that angry young girl. She never responded to my attempts to form some type of teacher – student relationship.

We made it through the semester and she did not return after the Christmas break. She got kicked out of chorus and they changed her schedule. She went to someone else’s math class. I would speak when I passed her in the hall but she never responded. She dropped out of school at the end of the year.

I was shopping one afternoon about a year later when I hear someone yell, Ms A. This is not uncommon so I turned to see who was calling me. I got hit with a bear hug. It was little miss angry teen! She excitedly told me that she had a job and liked it. School just wasn’t for her so she left. She said that she might try to get her GED one day. As we parted company, she turned and said, “You know you were my favorite teacher. Thanks.” She walked off and a tear rolled down my face.