Crisis Connection

Today the sophomores are supposed to be writing an in class essay on their fourth quarter outside reading book. This little delightful task was assigned four weeks ago, the due date has been on my board for four weeks, and has been specifically highlighted in my daily agendas for the last seven days.

Before the first bell rang this morning, the children were arguing with me about how they "didn't know about" this essay, and that if I was "fair" I would push it back until tomorrow.

"I mean, come on...it's MONDAY...I can't write an ESSAY...on MONDAY..."

"You SO didn't tell us about this."

"This is so unfair. How was I supposed to see the due date on the board? You didn't tell me to look there."

I think it was that last comment that really pushed me over the edge. I didn't tell them to look there? What?

So, it must have been the look on my face that finally got to them, because Megan, who could not be sweeter, smarter, or blonder, raised her hand and said, "If you feel like you need to leave the room for a minute, we'll understand."

And Sam said, "I work at Crisis Connection. If you feel like you need the number, just let me know."

The worst is when you want to laugh, but are committed to being mad at them. I managed to pass out the exam and the blue books with my angry face on, but couldn't take it when Sam handed me the Crisis Connection magnet when I passed by his desk. The magnet largely displays the emergency phone numbers and the saying "When life hurts and talking would help."

It's now posted on the board right next to the due date for the in class essay today. Thanks Sam.

For a story about Teens Gone Good, you'll have to look elsewhere.