A Clean Slate

One of my students came into my classroom this week clearly frustrated and struggling with a heavy burden. After a moment or so, she began to share very vague snippets of what was going on. I sat and listened for awhile and then asked her how I could help. I said that I could just listen, I could try to offer some advice, or I could tell a story from my experience. She asked me to tell her a story from my experience. When I asked what it should be about, she said, "People being mean." This is the story I told her:

When I was in sixth grade, there were three guys. Guy One was a really nice kid who happened to have some geek-like qualities. Guy Two had always been a good student and a good kid. Guy Three was an OK student and a generally good kid. The three were also a bullied kid, a bully, and an observer.

Guy One moved down the street from Guy Two's house during the summer and they became friends. They each had a brother and the four of them had a blast making up games on their bikes and chased each other all around their neighborhood.

When school started, things started to change a bit between Guy One and Two. After some time, Guy Two started teasing Guy One a bit for some of his geekiness. Good natured teasing was actually something he did a lot to friends and family, but it started to make other kids laugh. So he did it a bit more. Soon, he was teasing and making fun of Guy One nearly everyday. Things just started to snowball, and without even planning it to happen, a group formed that was all about teasing and making fun of Guy One. Guy Three was a member of that group and he laughed right along with everyone else, though he never did any direct bullying.

Eventually the dad of Guy One found out about the group and took action. He spoke to Guy Two and was quite upset about the way his son was treated. The dad reminded Guy Two how they used to be friends and wondered what happened to change that. Guy Two felt terrible, apologized to the dad and tried to explain that he wasn't even really sure how it had gotten so out of hand. He assured the dad that things would change.

Things did change. 

Guy Two stopped teasing and making fun of Guy One. He apologized to Guy One who was gracious enough to offer Guy Two a clean slate. He told the people in the group that it was over. Guy Three also got to the point where he felt terrible for going along with the group and doing something he knew was not right. A few years later Guy One and Guy Two became good friends. They each had some difficult times in high school, and both of them were there for each other despite the rocky road in sixth grade. They kept in touch in college and would see each other on vacations. They even got together along with their wives when they were both living in the same town. Guy Three ended up drifting apart from both of them, though they ran into each other from time to time and caught each other up on what was happening in their lives.

When I finished, I asked her, "Now. Who am I in the story?"

"The guy being bullied."

"No."

"Were you the guy that just watched?"

"No."

She paused and stared at me for a moment.

"You were the bully?"

I silently nodded my head.

"No. I don't believe it."

I assured her that I was serious. I also shared with her that I truly felt terrible for what I did and I never intended things to go so far, they just got way out of control. I explained that while I wish that I had not acted in that way and caused so much pain, even out of that brokenness, my life changed for the better. It was after that experience that I began to seek out the marginalized or the "left-out." As a student in high school and college, as an adult in my personal life, and as a teacher, I tend to naturally gravitate towards the people on the outskirts and try my best to come along side them and let them know that they are not alone. I try to make them laugh, most often by making fun of myself in some way. In fact, even as I write this I am realizing that it was around that time when my self-deprecating sense of humor came about. I would make myself the clown and the brunt of the joke rather than others, though my wife and family can assure you that I still get in my fair share of good-natured teasing.

My students are trying desperately to navigate through a tumultuous time in their life. They are going to make a ton of mistakes, just like I did and do. The absolute least that I can do is to offer them a chance to have a clean slate. I need one as teacher, husband, and father on a daily basis. Why would I ever not extend the same grace to my students?

I reminded another student that in my class he always has a fresh start when he needs one, and he really needed one this week.  He responded with, "I don't believe that." I was terribly saddened that he had such a hard time believing that. Whether it is showing them that they have a fresh start, or sharing stories of times when I have needed one, I will do all that I can to make it clear to my students that their past actions do not define who they are. I will do my best to show them that they have a chance each day to reinvent themselves.

My students, many of whom are the marginalized and "Didn't Fits" of the traditional classroom, named themselves OOTA: Out Of The Ashes. When I asked what they meant by that, one of them said, "We all used to really struggle and have a hard time in school and it was like we were burned down and in a pile of ashes. And we want to be something better."

To rise from the ashes as something better, my students need a fresh start and a clean slate, just as I did in sixth grade and today.