In another life, I labored within the bowels of the California public school system for 17 years. This was a productive, though trying time for me, as evidenced in part by the following story… I spent the first two years of my teaching career at Liberty Elementary School in Riverside, California (Room 3 - 6th grade). The school was home to many colorful characters. We had Mr. Hernandez, the school principal (he was super cool - think Ricardo Montalban on Fantasy Island). He was always relaxed, no matter the crisis. I think his biggest concern was not spilling grape soda on his polyester golf slacks. Then there was Mrs. Phillian, next door (she was a battle-hardened classroom veteran). My friend Mr. Heath, from across the hall, was perhaps the funniest teacher I ever met. He could never walk past my classroom TV and VCR without reaching out his hand and feigning electrical shock. He got a reaction from me every time. And the students… Memorable was Billy Maruffo. He was the only kid in 6th grade who had to shave (I think he was 19). His favorite pastime was mooning the school bus every morning before boarding.
But of all the students I had in those early years of teaching, no one compared to Emmet.
Emmet had been expelled from the district after an episode where he had threatened two of his fellow students with a kitchen knife. After being expelled, the district relented and said that if his parents could find another school to accept him, he could return. So, they came to me. Emmet was to be my new student.
Prior to enrolling, Emmet’s parents met with Mr. Hernandez and myself. During this meeting, I was presented with a list of Emmet’s special needs and requirements. Emmet had food allergies and as such, I was expected to monitor what he consumed at lunch. Forbidden was sugar, salt, any and all processed foods, and red food dye…especially red food dye. Furthermore, Emmet was not allowed to run, therefore P.E. was forbidden (he had some kind of tropical respiratory infection, or maybe just asthma). No dodgeball for Emmet. They also informed me that Emmet had frequent seizures, so at all times I must be prepared to call the paramedics. Apparently, this had been a frequent occurrence at his previous school. Needless to say, I was overwhelmed with what was being asked of me. I sat speechless, while next to me Mr. Hernandez smiled and munched on gummy bears.
The next day, with Emmet sitting in the back row, I decided to ignore my instructions and treat Emmet like a normal kid. So what if I got fired!
At lunch, I launched Emmet into the quad with all the other kids. I turned the other way when he bought a bologna sandwich and red fruit punch from an enterprising classmate (paid for with one dollar and some contraband M&Ms).
Later that afternoon, as we lined up outside for P.E., Emmet decided to charge the nearby chain-link fence. He began repeatedly running and throwing himself into the wire, hard enough to leave a mark. Observing Emmet in my peripheral vision, I took my time and avoided reaction. As we moseyed to the field, dodgeballs in hand, Emmet joined us. We all ignored the blood on his face, and had a fun game that day. Emmet’s fence charging continued for several days, and then became less frequent. We never once sent him to the school nurse. And Emmet seemed to enjoy running, every day.
In the classroom, Emmet was very accomplished at growling, hissing, and making animal noises, mimicking dogs and cats (and the occasional wolverine). He only did this when another student looked at him. We came to admire his talents, even as we ignored him.
Soon Emmet’s seizures began. If agitated in any way, he would close his eyes, throw his head back, and begin writhing in convulsions. This was the time when I was supposed to call the paramedics. Instead, we began long division on the blackboard, with my back turned toward the class. One day, as Emmet convulsed, and before plunging into math, I noticed him pause, midspasm, and open one eye to see if I was looking. With that, my suspicions were confirmed.
In the days and weeks that followed, I continued treating Emmet like a normal kid. He ran a lot during P.E. On those rare occasions when he attacked the chain-link fence with his face, he was only offered a wet paper towel to remove the blood. At lunch, he ate whatever he wanted (and could trade for). Most of his carrots and kale salad went in the trash. After a time, his seizures cleared up completely, and we no longer heard animal noises from the back of the room. All was good, except on those days when I needed a sub. Emmet would typically have a “heart attack” in my absence. He usually made a full and quick recovery, so the next day he was fine.
In the end, Emmet had a successful year in 6th grade. He received moderately good grades, made a few friends, and even played a starring role in a classroom movie that we made. I think he enjoyed the year being “normal.” By the way, I was nev- er fired
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