A Story with a Sad, But Not Surprising Ending

This coming fall I will start my thirtieth year of teaching. Yes, yes, it’s corny but I really do love it. However, I spent way too many years feeling bad about students with I whom I couldn’t connect. Time, being the great clonk-on-the-head factor says that the more you try to connect with a student the more you drive them away. That was the case with Winston (not his real name). I found out that no one connected with him.

If you have ever read any of Barbara Robinson’s hilarious books about the Herdman’s, who were “the worst kids in the history of the world,” then you would know about Winston. He was, without a doubt, the worst kid I ever had; truly a child without a conscience. I have since learned that he is more than likely, a sociopath. I will, gentle readers, spare you the details of all the unbelievably awful things he did, but I was ready to quit teaching because of him. It is ironic that one of the other students in that same class went on to be her class valedictorian and had many offers of full college scholarships. She, on the other hand, probably will never know that she kept me from quitting.

That spring that Winston was in my 6th grade class I called his father to report one of the latest of his horrendous behaviors (and no, the administrator at that school prided herself on NEVER suspending a child no matter how bad the behavior or district guidelines). The father immediately turned vicious. I was taken back as I had never had that happen before. (My earlier complaining, as an example, of his taking Winston to R rated movies which he graphically shared with classmates was greeted with a don’t-be-so-uptight reaction from the dad.) This time the dad personally attacked me, then threatened me. I reminded him that it was against the law to threaten a teacher. He screamed at me, “I’m not threatening you but if you ever ….” and so on and so on. Then I did something that I’m not proud of. I said, “Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I definitely went to his level. Interestingly, Winston’s dad owned a collection agency. He probably thought he was talking to me normally. Geesh!

Two weeks ago I saw that Winston’s dad died. I have removed all identifying information. He was in his early 40’s. This is his obituary:



*****, passed away after a brave battle with colon cancer. ***** was born in ***** and he was raised in Arizona. He had a strong will and he lived his life on his own terms. He was the epitome of an entrepreneur-always dreaming up and developing new business opportunities and ventures. He was his father's son. Although he worked hard, ***** knew how to have fun too. He loved playing poker-Texas Hold 'Em in particular. Many a weekend he would invite friends over for a night of card-playing fun. Ask any of his friends and family and they would tell you how much he touched their lives and what a generous man he was. ***** is preceded in death by his father and sister, He is survived by his son, ********, mother and sisters. (We cannot go without mentioning his special Aunt, who gave of her time, her love and her support to *****and the rest of his family during this difficult journey. We will miss you **** boy.

I take no delight in his passing. His end was miserable. As I stated in an earlier blog about planning your own funeral I would also advise people to write their own obituaries, because I would not consider this one as praiseworthy.

I wonder what will happen to Winston now. I still have no idea what I could have done to help him, and now, even though his dad was a jerk, Winston has no father.