passion of an Academy Award winner.
“Really? When was this?”
“Um. Two days ago.”
“And you’re just now coming to tell me?”
“Well, yeah. I tried to work it out on my own, but I couldn’t. I just know you can help me.”
As a first year counselor, Kate would’ve eaten up this kind of flattery. Now she knew better. “Actually, I would love to talk to you about this. However. . .” She looked up the sophomore’s schedule on her computer. “Right now it’s more important that you hear what is being taught in geometry class.” She realized that the classroom was on the far side of the building. This was definitely a ploy. “How about you stop by during your lunch hour to update me on you and your boyfriend’s situation?”
The girl looked uncomfortable. “Uh, OK. . . . Can I have a pass?”
“I told you the last time that if you walked into my office after the bell, I wouldn’t give you a pass to class any more.”
“I was here before the bell.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Well, I was outside your office waiting for a long time, but you weren’t here.”
That was possible. She was starting to wear Kate down. Was this how she manipulated her mother? “I’ve been in my office for several minutes. Where were you?”
“Oh. I was talking to Mr. Fuentes,” she said, pointing toward the secretary’s desk.
“Go ask Mr. Fuentes for a pass to class then since he’s the reason you’re late.” Kate was pleased with her resolution. As a counselor, she had to be careful students didn’t use her to get out of class. Sometimes it was a difficult call to make and she often felt guilty when she sent a student away. But the teachers had a job to do and they resented it when one student always had a pass from the counselor. “And be sure to stop by during lunch. I’d love to talk to you.”
The innocent-looking girl stood up, a little disappointed, and quickly put on her sweet-talking smile as she walked toward Antonio Fuentes’s desk.
One time Kate called the girl’s mom to discuss why she was always tardy, only to find out her mom dropped her off at FHS every morning on her way to work. She was there in plenty of time. It was just that the sophomore ignored the warning bell in order to gossip with her friends. Her mom said she had tried everything, but nothing worked.
This was another thing that scared Kate about motherhood. A professional, like her, trained in child development, couldn’t get her own daughter to behave.
After the teacher’s kid left, there was a lull. All of the students were actually in their classes and Kate welcomed the chance to get organized. She turned to her daily tasks list and wrote down everything she needed to do: check her mailbox in the teacher’s work room, write a pass for Michelle and prepare for the career exploration group she led.
Before attacking her first task, she got stuck thinking about the fact that someone on staff was a child molester. Who could it be? How could they have gotten away with it for so many years? What if some student had asked Kate to remove them from that teacher’s class and when they wouldn’t give her a reason why, she basically told them to “suck it up”? The truth was, kids asked to switch teachers all of the time. Usually it was just a personality conflict or the fact that the teacher wouldn’t let them get by with inappropriate behavior. Rhonda and Kate both felt that sticking it out was a good life lesson for teenagers. But suddenly, she doubted every time she had made that call.
She felt frozen, unable to get on with her day. Nothing else seemed to matter until she knew her students were protected.
The ringing of her telephone snapped her out of her daze. “Kate Hopper. May I help you?” After two sweaty summers employed by a cabinet-making factory, Kate had been promoted to working in their customer service department. She still answered her phone with the same greeting she used there and tried to have
“Really? When was this?”
“Um. Two days ago.”
“And you’re just now coming to tell me?”
“Well, yeah. I tried to work it out on my own, but I couldn’t. I just know you can help me.”
As a first year counselor, Kate would’ve eaten up this kind of flattery. Now she knew better. “Actually, I would love to talk to you about this. However. . .” She looked up the sophomore’s schedule on her computer. “Right now it’s more important that you hear what is being taught in geometry class.” She realized that the classroom was on the far side of the building. This was definitely a ploy. “How about you stop by during your lunch hour to update me on you and your boyfriend’s situation?”
The girl looked uncomfortable. “Uh, OK. . . . Can I have a pass?”
“I told you the last time that if you walked into my office after the bell, I wouldn’t give you a pass to class any more.”
“I was here before the bell.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Well, I was outside your office waiting for a long time, but you weren’t here.”
That was possible. She was starting to wear Kate down. Was this how she manipulated her mother? “I’ve been in my office for several minutes. Where were you?”
“Oh. I was talking to Mr. Fuentes,” she said, pointing toward the secretary’s desk.
“Go ask Mr. Fuentes for a pass to class then since he’s the reason you’re late.” Kate was pleased with her resolution. As a counselor, she had to be careful students didn’t use her to get out of class. Sometimes it was a difficult call to make and she often felt guilty when she sent a student away. But the teachers had a job to do and they resented it when one student always had a pass from the counselor. “And be sure to stop by during lunch. I’d love to talk to you.”
The innocent-looking girl stood up, a little disappointed, and quickly put on her sweet-talking smile as she walked toward Antonio Fuentes’s desk.
One time Kate called the girl’s mom to discuss why she was always tardy, only to find out her mom dropped her off at FHS every morning on her way to work. She was there in plenty of time. It was just that the sophomore ignored the warning bell in order to gossip with her friends. Her mom said she had tried everything, but nothing worked.
This was another thing that scared Kate about motherhood. A professional, like her, trained in child development, couldn’t get her own daughter to behave.
After the teacher’s kid left, there was a lull. All of the students were actually in their classes and Kate welcomed the chance to get organized. She turned to her daily tasks list and wrote down everything she needed to do: check her mailbox in the teacher’s work room, write a pass for Michelle and prepare for the career exploration group she led.
Before attacking her first task, she got stuck thinking about the fact that someone on staff was a child molester. Who could it be? How could they have gotten away with it for so many years? What if some student had asked Kate to remove them from that teacher’s class and when they wouldn’t give her a reason why, she basically told them to “suck it up”? The truth was, kids asked to switch teachers all of the time. Usually it was just a personality conflict or the fact that the teacher wouldn’t let them get by with inappropriate behavior. Rhonda and Kate both felt that sticking it out was a good life lesson for teenagers. But suddenly, she doubted every time she had made that call.
She felt frozen, unable to get on with her day. Nothing else seemed to matter until she knew her students were protected.
The ringing of her telephone snapped her out of her daze. “Kate Hopper. May I help you?” After two sweaty summers employed by a cabinet-making factory, Kate had been promoted to working in their customer service department. She still answered her phone with the same greeting she used there and tried to have
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