11

Rejection

(four weeks later)

Hello. Mr. Peters?”

“Yes, this is he,” the teacher answered into the phone.

“This is Mr. Kruger, Dylan’s social worker.”

“Oh, hi. I’m glad to finally talk to you.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to speak with you earlier,” Mr. Kruger apologized. “How long has he been at your school now? Almost a month?”

“Just over a month,” Mr. Peters answered. “Time has flown by since he arrived.”

“How’s he doing, Mr. Peters?”

“Not great. He’s constantly in trouble for swearing, threatening and pushing other students, throwing rocks—you name it, he’s done it. The principal and I have spoken to him countless times about controlling his anger. We’ve tried to teach him some anger management strategies, and he tries to learn them, but all is forgotten in real-life situations.”

“Yes, this sounds very familiar, Mr. Peters. A lot of people have tried, but he’s a challenge. Does he have any friends?”

“Well, there is one boy who likes him, but even he seems to be avoiding him lately. He’s too unpredictable, and he pushes kids away with his outbursts.”

“What about you? How are you doing, Mr. Peters? Many teachers have given up on him.”

“I’m okay, but I get frustrated with the amount of time I have to spend with him. I feel like I’m neglecting my other students because he requires so much of my time.”

“Do you think he should be back in a behavior class?” asked the social worker.

“Hmm…well, that would make things easier for me,” answered Mr. Peters, “but I don’t think it’s the best place for him. In my classroom, he gets to interact with average kids who may not be perfect but who rarely strike out or really hurt each other. This kind of positive role modeling is good for him.”

“I agree,” Mr. Kruger stated, “but you’re responsible for all of your students, not just Dylan. You can’t allow one child to take up all of your time.”

Mr. Peters sat down on the library desk. “You’re right. The other students are missing out.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Peters. I’d love to see him in a regular classroom, but maybe he’s not ready.”

“I don’t want to give up yet. Oh, by the way, I’m getting an aide next week. The principal has been trying to find one for a while, but most of them don’t want the stress of working with someone like Dylan. It’s going to be her responsibility to deal with him on a regular basis, so I can spend time with the rest of my class.”

A rapid fire of words blasted into the library. Mr. Peters held the phone away from his ear and looked into the hallway.

“I just wanted to play. I didn’t do anything. Just go away! Leave me alone! Can’t anyone leave me alone?”

“I have to go, Mr. Kruger. Please keep in touch.”

“Okay, I will. Let me know—”

Mr. Peters hung up the phone before the other man could finish his sentence.

Dylan stormed into the classroom and flopped down on the risers with his hood pulled over his head and face. Mr. Peters left the library and was about to enter the classroom when he ran into Mr. Bowman in the hallway.

“He got into a fight with a number of boys on the playground,” he said quietly. “I only saw the end of it, but they appeared to be teasing him. Miss Roland told me that she saw him smiling and trying to join them in their game, but they ran off. He continued to follow them and tagged them as they ran. Then they circled him and started making fun of him. This is when I saw him pull Lyle’s jacket over his head and throw him to the ground. Then he lunged at Sam’s neck and pushed him. The other kids played a part, and we need to deal with all of them, but I wanted to remove Dylan from the situation. I’m going to gather up the other students, and we’re going to have a meeting in the office.”

“Can it wait, Mr. Bowman? I want to have a class meeting first.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“I’ll send them to you when we’re finished, Mr. Bowman.”

Mr. Peters walked over to Dylan and sat down on the riser across from him.

“Are you okay, Dylan?”

“What? You’re always blaming me!” he wailed.

“I’m not blaming you for anything, Dylan. I don’t think you’re listening to me. I asked if you are all right,” he said calmly.

“What do you care? Nobody cares. Nobody wants me.”

“Whoa. Slow down, Dylan. We are—”

“You don’t care. Nobody does.”

“What’s bugging you, Dylan? There seems to be more to this than the fight you had on the playground.”

Dylan’s eyes welled up. “Grandma doesn’t want me anymore. She said I’m too much trouble. I have to go to a respite home.”

“For how long?”

“It’s supposed to be for two or three days, but usually it’s longer.”

“So a respite home is just short term.”

Dylan nodded.

“Well, maybe it will be good for both of you to get away from each other. Sometimes we need a break from the people we love, Dylan.”

The warning bell rang.

“I want to talk to you about this in more detail, Dylan, but right now I need to get ready for class. Now, you had a problem on the playground, and—”

“But they started it.”

“I don’t know what happened, Dylan, and I want to get to the bottom of it. I know the other kids played a part and that you aren’t the only guilty party. We’re going to talk to all of you, but right now, you need to go to the office and wait until we have time to deal with it.”

“What about them?” he spat angrily.

“They will be dealt with. Don’t worry about them right now. I’d like you to go to the office and cool down.”

Mr. Peters walked away. He knew from past experience that hovering over Dylan while asking him to leave did not work. It was best to give the instructions and walk away. He was at his desk shuffling papers when Dylan got up and walked out of the room.

Thirty seconds later the bell rang. Several students rushed to Mr. Peters and tried to give their versions of what had happened on the playground, but Mr. Peters stopped them.

“Hold your tongues. We’re going to deal with this as a class. ”

Mr. Peters waited until all of the students were at the meeting corner before joining them. He walked sternly to the front of the room without smiling at anyone. Everyone stayed silent while he took attendance.

Then he said firmly, “Okay. What happened?”

Nobody spoke.

“I want to discuss this with the entire class because this isn’t the first time we’ve had to deal with a problem like this, and it won’t be the last.”

Slowly, Lyle raised his hand. “Me, Sam, Tony, Jake, and Alex were sitting on the rock when Dylan came running up and asked to play. We said we weren’t playing, and we walked away, but he kept following us. So we ran, and then he started tagging us, saying, ‘you’re it,’ but we weren’t playing tag. Then he grabbed me and threw me to the ground. Sam came to help me, and he threw him to the ground. Then Mr. Bowman took Dylan away.”

“Why do you think he wanted to play?” asked Mr. Peters. No one raised a hand. “Who does he usually play with?”

Janna said, “No one. He usually plays alone.”

“So why did he want to play with you guys?” Mr. Peters asked again. “Alex?”

Alex spoke into his hand. “Because he has no one else to play with.”

“Think about how it would feel to come to school every day knowing you don’t have any friends, knowing that the other kids will laugh at you and tease you,” said Mr. Peters. “I heard that some of you were calling him names. Is that true, Tony?”

“Well…yeah, I guess,” answered Tony. “We didn’t want to play with him, so we told him to get lost.”

Lyle said, “He plays too rough. He’s scary, sometimes.”

Mr. Peters thought about this for a moment. “I understand. He does play very rough, and he gets carried away.”

“And sometimes he punches and kicks,” Sam added.

Mr. Peters sighed and scanned the faces before him. “I have to tell you about Dylan’s background. I can’t go into a lot of detail, but I think all of you need to know a little about Dylan.” The teacher scanned their silent faces.

“Dylan stands out. His life is unlike any of yours. He’s lived in many different homes and has attended many different schools. This is his first experience in a regular classroom. Most of his schooling has taken place in very small classrooms with other students who have trouble in regular classrooms. How many of you have moved?” A few hands went up. “Moving can be very difficult. Am I right?” Several students nodded.

“Dylan doesn’t have two parents who move with him and comfort him when he’s upset. Usually when he moves, he lives with adults who are strangers to him. He’s never had the same parents for more than a year or two. Put yourself in his shoes. What if you didn’t have parents and you were shipped around from home to home every couple of years?”

He paused and looked at the ground. “Dylan has a temper. We all know that, and it can be scary at times. I understand that. But as a group, we have to try to make Dylan’s year a positive one. He needs to know we care about him. Who are Dylan’s friends?”

Lyle responded, “He doesn’t have any friends. Sometimes Ted talks to him.”

Ted’s head went down, and he stared at the ground.

“You’re right, Lyle,” agreed Mr. Peters. “The only student who spends any time with him is Ted.” Mr. Peters paused for a moment. “I would like all of you to try to include Dylan in some of your games. I’m not telling you that you have to play with him. I would just like you to try. You don’t have to be his best friend—just try to make him feel welcome.”

Carol’s hand went up, and then she spoke. “But…what if he gets angry at us and yells. What should we do?”

“I don’t have all of the answers,” responded Mr. Peters. “If possible, try to include him in your games and activities, and if he gets too carried away, just walk away. Perhaps tell him that if he’s not interested in following the rules of the game, then he can’t play. Tell him that when he’s ready to follow the rules, he can join the group again. He needs to be given a chance to play with you.

“If he blows up, stop the game immediately and let him know that you won’t put up with that kind of behavior. He’ll listen to you better than he’ll listen to me or any of the other teachers. Again, you don’t have to be his best friend—just include him. I think he needs to feel a sense of belonging. We all need that.”

Then Mr. Peters sent Lyle, Tony, Alex, Jake, and Sam down to the office to meet with Dylan and Mrs. Evans. They retold their version of the story.

“Do you understand what they just said, Dylan?” Mrs. Evans turned toward him. “You just wanted to play, but they were afraid. If you want to play, you need to be less rough. And you boys,” Mrs. Evans said, glaring at the five, “you need to try to be a little more understanding. How long have you boys gone to this school?”

“Since kindergarten,” Lyle responded.

“Me too,” agreed Tony.

Alex nodded in agreement.

“Jake and I have been here since grade 1,” Sam stated.

“So you guys have always gone to this school. You’ve been friends for a while. Dylan just arrived. Think about how you’d feel if you had to leave all of your friends and try to make new ones.”

Dylan leaned forward in his chair. He did not make eye contact with any of the boys, but he looked in their direction and focused just above their heads. His jaw protruded as he spoke forcefully. “How would you feel if you were always blamed for everything and got in trouble all the time. Ever since I was this high,” he said, motioning with his hand, “I’ve been blamed for everything. Other kids always pick on me and tease me.”

The boys stared at Dylan as he went on. He talked about his life and some of the things he had experienced. Mrs. Evans was surprised by Dylan’s speech. She observed that the boys listened intently and even responded with gasps at some of the things he said.

When Dylan finished speaking, Mrs. Evans said, “Okay boys, how do you feel about this? Do you have a better understanding of what Dylan has been going through in this school?” They all nodded. “What are you going to do in the future?”

Alex spoke up. “We’ll try to include him.” All of the other boys agreed.

“I’m pleased with our meeting,” said the principal. “Thank-you. I feel like we came to an understanding. I’m going to ask you to do community service for the time you’ve spent away from the classroom. Now, I’d like you to all shake hands and go back to class.”

“Yuck!” Jake blurted.

Mrs. Evans straightened up and stared at him. “What did you say?”

Jake turned red and stared at the ground. He looked up, and when he saw Mrs. Evans’s angry glare, he looked away again.

“Repeat what you said,” Mrs. Evans said firmly.

“I said ‘yuck.’ I don’t want to touch him. He’s dirty.”

Mrs. Evans raised her voice. “Did you get nothing out of this meeting?”

Then she looked at the other boys and tried to speak calmly. “I want to thank all of you for coming today. You can go back to class…everyone except for Jake. We need to continue our conversation.”

As Lyle left the office, he met Jake’s tearful eyes with a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders. The door slammed shut.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Mr. Peters noticed that the students tried to include Dylan in their activities, and he seemed to enjoy the positive attention. At the end of the day, Mr. Peters called Ted over to his desk.

“I’ve noticed that you and Dylan aren’t hanging out together anymore. Is it just my imagination or have you been ignoring him? You seemed to have such a good friendship.”

Ted was silent for a moment. “It’s my parents. I want to be friends with Dylan. I like him, but my parents are worried. They’ve heard stories about him, and they told me not to hang out with him.”

“I see,” said Mr. Peters. “How do you feel about this? Do you want to be friends with him, Ted?”

“I do, but I’m worried about what my parents might do. Sometimes they ground me.”

“Well, thank-you for telling me that, Ted. You’re in a difficult situation. You can go now.” Mr. Peters turned back to his work.

Ted left the room and froze at the sight of Dylan sorting books in the library. He tiptoed softly down the hall after quietly gathering his things. Then he stopped, exhaled, dropped his backpack, and walked into the library.

“Hi, Dylan,” he sang brightly.

Dylan mumbled a greeting back and continued filing books.

“I haven’t talked to you for a couple of weeks,” Ted continued. “I know you’re probably mad at me because you think I’ve been ignoring you…sorry about that. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately. My parents have put me in all these after-school clubs, so I have to rush home every day.” Ted felt ashamed to be lying.

Dylan spoke into the books. “What about recess and lunch time? You haven’t been talking to me during those times either.”

Ted stumbled over his words and tried to come up with an explanation, but Dylan cut in. “I don’t care. I don’t need friends. You don’t have to be my friend,” he said emphatically. “I just have one request,” Dylan stated, “and then you can go your own way. I need to finish telling you about my training and my battle with Tracker. I have to do this before I go back. I don’t know why; I just do.”

“I want to hear it, Dylan,” he replied. “I really do. I can stay for a while, but then I have to go.”

“Go then!” Dylan spat. “I’m not gonna beg.”

Ted remained silent for a minute and watched Dylan continue to file books. “I want to hear it. Please finish. I can stay as long as you want me to.”

Dylan spun around and studied Ted’s face.

“You really do want to hear it, don’t you?”

Ted nodded. The boys glanced around the library and then ducked into their secret cave under the computer table.