I went to college after I had been out of high school for 10 years. I decided to relive my teen years and become a high school teacher, and when I graduated, I eagerly started looking for jobs. I just knew I would be one of the first hired since I had an extremely high GPA.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
The only position I could find that first year was at an alternative school. This school was designed as a legal holding area for teens awaiting trial or for those too incorrigible to go to a regular high school. Most had already been kicked out of school and were not welcomed back. The law said they had to attend school, so I had eighteen teenagers ranging from age 13 to 18 in my classroom.
The school met every day from 1:00 in the afternoon until 8:00 PM. In other words, they were in school when Most teenagers went to regular classes at the high school. This was to keep them separated and the alternative kids less apt to get into trouble. They also we’re less likely to break into homes or steal Items from stores if they were in night school.
Those kids were very interesting. As a pastor’s daughter and pastor’s wife, I had very little experience with the teens of this caliber. There was a boy there who thought it was cool to make his own personal tattoos. He did this by taking a knife and cutting shapes into his body then cracking open an ink pen and pouring the ink into the wounds. There was another boy with hair so long he could sit on it, so every morning when he came into school, I had to braid it to keep it out of his face. This same young man had smoked so much marijuana at such a young age and so often that he had lost his short-term memory. I taught him the same thing every day. He went home from school one day in the third grade and discovered his mother had packed up everything she had and moved away. His father, a mechanic, felt helpless and just left the boy to his own devices. So he smoked pot.
There was another young man who hated himself so much that he constantly made cuts into his stomach with whatever implement he could find. When I called his mother one morning to talk to her about it, she was completely drunk at 8:15 in the morning!
Detectives came in one day and grabbed up one of the boys, handcuffed him, and started out the door. I went flying after them like a mother hen, demanding they tell me why they were taking him away.
“Hey, I know his rights! You can’t just take one of my boys willy nilly!” I said poking the officer in his chest…which was at eye level. The man was huge. He just looked down at me and raised an eyebrow.
“Ma’am, he is 17, and yes, we can.” So off went Wayne with the officers. He was arrested for armed robbery.
Then there was Jeremy.
Jeremy was a thief. He admitted it, he made no bones about it, and he was rather proud of it. He ended up in alternative school because he had stolen a motorcycle. When he was arrested, the exhaust burned his leg as he got off the motorcycle. He proudly showed me his scar.
After a few months of teaching this crowd I discovered that the only thing they all truly desired was love and attention. So I showered them with as much attention as I could and told them I loved them.
They believed me. And I have proof.
One Friday, I casually mentioned to the kids that t was my birthday, and my family was taking me out for dinner. They didn’t seem too interested, but all of them wished me a happy birthday.
On Monday morning I walked into my classroom to find my students gathered in a little circle. They were all looking at something, and of course, with this group I had to be highly suspicious, so I asked them what was going on.
That’s when they turned to me as a group and Jeremy, who was their spokesman on that day, asked me to hold out my hand and close my eyes.
I looked at him like he had lost his mind! With this crowd? Uh huh, no way! But Jeremy kept pleading, so after I threatened to kill him if he had a snake, I reluctantly closed my eyes and held out my hand palm up.
I felt something cold and when I opened my eyes and looked down there was a beautiful necklace draped over my palm. I stared in shock at the necklace as all the kids said “Happy Birthday” in unison.
“Is this for me?” I asked.
“Yep,” said Jeremy. ” We all went to the mall together to get you this present.”
I looked around at all the proud beaming faces. I teared up and blubbered as I told them how sweet they all were.
Then Jeremy brought a halt to the love fest. “Umm, just don’t wear it at the mall.”
They had stolen the necklace. I was sure of it. And this put me in a quandary. What should I do?
As I looked around at the smiling faces, I realized something. Most of these kids came from poor backgrounds and had no money to buy me a present. But they wanted to show their appreciation for the time I spent with them. They risked everything, including their freedom, to get this necklace for me. If caught, they would have gone to jail.
I looked back up at them with a weak smile and said… “Thank you, but don’t steal from for me again. I would be crushed if you got into trouble for me.” This just wasn’t the time for a lecture. They were all happy with that and we got back to our schoolwork.
And you know what? I often wore that necklace to class, and they all noticed and smiled. But I never once wore it to the mall!
