On Friday before classes, Ester let me know that she was expecting to meet with the mothers of Ever and Erick, two of my seventh graders from Rio Viejo. “They will come at about nine or ten, I think.” I looked at her questioning. “They not gonna come back to this school. Everyday they wants to fight.” And she listed a few of their many misbehaviors. She tells me Erick even picks fights with the tenth graders, along with many others. She relates how Ever´s father drinks, and how one time in their fighting Ever raised a machete against his father.
Each student is told upon arrival at Instituto El Rey that if they exceed fifteen demerits, they lose the right to return to the school the following year. Erick and Ever each had close to twenty already – for everything from saying “f--- you” in class to swinging shovels at each other to indecent exposure. Worse, they made barely any movements toward changing their attitudes or comportment.
Probably it will be easier for the other students with them gone. And maybe they will use this time to reflect on their lives and the choices they’ve made. I hope so. I told Ester that I think she is wise and brave to make this call. They’ve had chance upon chance to make better, and they haven’t.
But I hate to see them go. Although he almost never does his homework, Ever is a quick study. And although he almost never passes, he is one of the most talented soccer players in the schools. He ran well in the half-marathon. Erick had one of the best ears in any of my classes and walked around calling out, “What do you want!” “What is your name!” “Look at the board!” “Sit correctly!” and “I’m fine you!” He was also one of the most popular dancers in the school, as his limbs didn’t seem to have the same limitations others did.
And in each of them, there were moments when I wondered if there were some deep hurt inside. Ever’s boasting could be a cover for never having felt loved by his parents. The other kids often called Erick “loco”, and his clown act could give way almost instantly to a wounded rage.
So farewell, señores. I will miss you.
Erick
Ever
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