Thursday, April 10, 2008

Mansion On The Hill

Come to think of it, I think it would be a version of hell to live in a house at the top of the street that my teacher rode his bike past every night. And furthermore, it would only add to the torment to have my grandparents be extremely friendly with my teacher, who would often stop and chat at the end of a long day. That's where one of the girls in my class lives.
Shelly's family, brothers and cousins and aunts and even her mom have been going to my school for years before I ever got there. Given the number of choices they have, we take it as a compliment that they continue to send generation after generation to us for their schooling. That kind of legacy does leave a mark, however. Shelly knows that at the end of a particularly bad day, I might just stop by the family homestead and have a little face-to-face with grandma and grandpa. To be fair, I have made it my practice to drop in when she has had a very good day as well.
Still, it's the familiarity that spooks her. Today, when she was starting to unravel a little under the stress of having to go to a little extra math instruction, there was some question about whether or not I would be making a visit after school. Shelly was very grumpy: "I wish my grandparents never lived on the same street as this stupid school." I gave her some time, and let her make peace with the fact that forces outside her control were conspiring to get her to go to math intervention. When at last I could see that she was done seething, I approached her again.
"Shelly, I think it's really important for you to go to math group this afternoon. You're really close to passing, and this extra help could put you right over the top."
I could see her letting go, but not all the way. "I'll go," she said, then added emphatically, "for you."
This evening when I rode past the house on the hill, most of the family, including Shelly, were sitting out on the porch in the sunset. I stopped for a moment and told Shelly how proud I was of her from pulling herself back from the edge. "Was it so bad?"
She shook her head. "Mister Caven?"
"Yes?"
"Can I go back tomorrow?"
I rode home with a smile on my face.

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