girlfiend

Mikey, who’s in my fifth grade class, is a sweet kid, but things haven’t been easy for him. His mom’s a hustler and his dad just recently got custody. Mikey spent some time on the streets and has a history of lying and stealing. He’s an accomplished manipulator and relies on his charm to skate through school. His father seems like a nice guy. He obviously wants the best for Mikey, but he’s not accustomed to being Mikey’s sole guardian, and doesn’t always make the best choices.

Mikey spends a lot of time at home alone. Three adults live in the house, but their work schedules are such that on some nights, nobody’s home when he goes to bed and no one’s there when he wakes up in the morning. At eleven years old he makes his own dinner, puts himself to bed, gets himself up and dressed in the morning, makes his own breakfast, and makes it to the bus stop on time every day. Unfortunately, with all of the other stresses, he can’t get any schoolwork done.

He’s not an easy kid to have in class. He spent a lot of time on the streets before he moved in with his dad and continues to lie and steal out of habit. He interrupts constantly, asking inappropriate questions and making rude remarks. He’s not especially popular with the others, as evidenced by the near race riot he caused earlier in the school year. Mikey has no concept of personal space, which is probably why I’ve had the sniffles for months, and no internal volume meter.

The child has no tact. Insults roll off his tongue without him even realizing he’s said something insulting. Every day he says something that causes me to stop and count to ten before reacting. Mikey has said such gems as, “You’re 26? You look much, much older,” and “Wow, I never noticed you had so many gray hairs.” Yesterday the charming boy told me that I was looking, “much, much bigger. Are you gaining weight?” I know better than to take it personally, but it’s difficult for me not to become visibly annoyed, especially when the other kids in the class become his targets.

We’re doing what we can for him. We’ve got the counselors involved and an academic intervention plan. One of the counselors is acting as a surrogate parent, checking in with him every day to help him stay organized and on top of his work. Another counselor has him in a social skills group. Every day, I force myself to compliment him and give him a hug or a handshake. He desperately needs positive reinforcement.

It might be working. Today Mikey ran into my classroom a few minutes before the end of the school day with an enormous grin on his face. “Ms. Fiend, I made it through the whole day without insulting you! And I wasn’t really that disruptive. You only had to tell me to sit down twice! Aren’t you proud of me?” I told him yes and gave him a handful of school lottery tickets and a hug. I was thrilled to see him so proud of himself, but I couldn’t get past the fact that he’d probably have no one at home to share his good news with.