His mother brought him down to my office. She filled out the paperwork, yelled at him and left him in the waiting room.
I came out to meet him as she was leaving. He was twice her size. He said nothing.
Zack has not been going to school and that is why she is making him come and see me. She told me so on the phone.
Zack is seventeen, about 6' 1," 200 lbs. He is an African American boy who embraces the role. He had the black sweatshirt, the baggy jeans, the bandanna. He rolled into my office slowly, sat down and stared at me.
"Do you want to be here, or does she want you here?" I asked.
"Her" he answered.
During the next 45 minutes we had a conversation. He was polite and answered my questions. Some of his answers were real, some were just what he thought I wanted to hear.
If I were him I wouldn't open up to me, some middle-aged white guy. How can he possibly trust me?
Perhaps if he comes six more times he will realize that I mean him no harm. I could be of some use to him if he really wanted to discuss things with me, like about how to handle the world, and what his options are. But he doesn't know that; how could he?
All I am to him is the guy who can keep him from getting a probation officer.
I wish there was an alternative, but there isn't much to choose from around here.
2 comments:
Not many are ready to listen at that age, and those who can don't need it. That's why there's consequences. The smarter ones catch up before it goes to far. Lets hope he's one of those.
I certainly think you have your hands full with this age. I hope that he can talk to you. All young people need someone they can talk to. :)
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