Small Victories

(This is the first in a series of stories and essays inspired by The Sun's Readers Write topics.)

A week into my first year of teaching 4th grade, I knew that Mark would pose a problem. He doodled during lessons, fought with his classmates, and shrugged his shoulders when I made him stay in at recess. I became more and more resentful of Mark's dismissive attitude toward school. I would ask for his homework each morning with a sigh and a shake of the head half started. "Damn it!" I would lament to my husband each night. "How can I teach students who don't care?" Conference time arrived and Mark's parents were "too busy" to come in to talk to me. At this point, Mark was failing every subject and completely disinterested in making any changes.

Desperate to get through to him, I agreed to make a home visit. Mark's little brother's similar failures in 3rd grade prompted his teacher to accompany. Our principal, hesitant to send us to a strange home, went with us as well.

As we walked up the sidewalk, we all commented on the shiny, new pick-up in the driveway. Inside, while I waited for my co-worker to finish her conference, I looked around the house. Aside from a big screen TV and a surround-sound stereo system, the room contained very little. No pictures on the walls, no books, the bare minimum of furniture. A younger sister ran rampant through the living room, and an older brother floated curses down the stairs. Mark and his little brother sat silently on the couch, eyes as wide as saucers. They were both stunned that anyone, much less their teachers, thought them important enough for a special home visit.

When Mark returned to school after the winter break, there was an almost imperceptible difference in him. I noticed him listening to my lessons. His homework made it to school at least once a week. Most importantly, he started making friends with his classmates. You had to look closely to notice the change, but it was there. Mark was starting to care.

As the year crawled towards summer break, Mark and I came to an agreement. I stopped sighing and shaking my head, recognizing the futility of trying to get any homework done at his house, and he began to volunteer to stay in at recess or lunch to finish important assignments. He arrived at school early some days and begged to stay late on others. His classwork, especially his writing, not only got done, it began to show a sense of ownership.

There was no great miracle on his final report card, although it was somewhat improved. He was still failing reading, writing and math, but he had managed a "C-" in both science and social studies. As we talked about it, Mark expressed both pride and frustration. He nodded seriously as I told him what to expect in 5th grade.

Next year, the little brother will join my class. I won't waste time shaking my head or sighing this time. We'll get right to work.