Home > School Issues Channel > School Issues Archive > Teach for America Diaries > Will Hobart's Diaries > Entry #2

Today I was reminded of why I teach. It had been a rough week. Several kids were suspended for fighting and another student, Patrick, had run away from home following an incident with a BB gun.

Back to Teach for America Diaries home page

I felt frustrated and looking forward to the day off from children. It was the last block of the day and I realized Chandler needed to finish testing for his annual Individualized Education Plan (IEP) meeting. Chandler had come to me that morning and said, “I wasn’t able to take my meds this morning Mr. Hobart. My mom was still sleeping when I left for school and I couldn’t find the bottle anywhere in her room.” By the end of classes before a day off, I knew he’d be animated.

“Awwww, Mr. Hobart! I’m not going with you! I am not missing computers!” he screamed at me as I entered his classroom and approached him.

“Chandler, I’m sorry, this isn’t a choice. We need to finish the tests.” After several verbal exchanges, including a desperate, but effective candy bribe, Chandler followed me out the door. He walked 15 feet behind me down to the special education office dragging his hand along every locker making each lock bang and clank and chipping paint on the lockers. I called a cheerful reminder in his direction.

“Please be respectful of other people’s class time, Chandler. The noise you are making with your hands is distracting to those learning!” His quick and serious response back caught me off guard.

“You should respect people’s computer class time, Mr. Hobart, and not pull them out for stupid testing.” He was right. I hated pulling him out of class, isolating him from his peers, and taking away his time with the computer -- a piece of technology I knew his mother did not own.

Chandler was familiar with the test and answered each question the best he could. I watched him frantically draw lines on his papers -- I assumed tally marks -- as he worked out each addition and multiplication problem.

Once we got to the division part, Chandler began to struggle. “Mr. Hobart. I can’t do division. I need help.”

“We will work together on your division this year and you will be able to do this.” He looked at me and I could tell he bought into the idea that he could achieve. He smiled at me as he handed the sheet of division problems devoid of answers back in my direction.

“Tomorrow is my birthday Mr. Hobart! I’m going shopping for new clothes!” His eagerness and happiness were written in size 72-font across his forehead, right above his wide grin and sparkling eyes.

“I am very pleased with your concentration and hard work today Chandler. I want to call your mother.”

“WHAT!? Mr. Hobart!”

“Come here.” I said. I picked up the black phone and punched in his mother’s cell phone number from memory like I did my own mother’s cell. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Robinson, this is Mr. Hobart at Sulzberger. I wanted to call and tell you what a great son you have. He was honest with me today about his medication and he proved today he can be mature. I am proud of him.”

“Oh, Mr. Hobart. That’s great! I’m at work and I thought you were calling about something bad. Thank you, Mr. Hobart!” Chandler had run out of the door as I hung up the phone and the bell rang to signal the end of the school day.

“Happy birthday, Buddy!” I called after him.

“Thanks Mr. Hobart!” he shouted as the door to the stairs had already started to close. He had forgotten about the candy bribe. And I had forgotten about my frustrating week.

Teach For America Diaries

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES