Monday I went back to work, which was difficult. Although I'd enjoyed teaching school while I was single, my heart had never really been in it. Always, I was torn between being a mother and housewife and being a working woman and teacher. What I looked forward to most was getting to retire and be a full-time homemaker again.
I talked with my principal to see if I could get out of my contract in the middle of the year. He was understanding, and helped me approach the district with my request, but they had a policy of not breaking a contract in the middle of the year unless there were extenuating circumstances.
Russell, my oldest son, was in seventh grade that year, and struggling, having a hard time in all of his classes and really hating school.
“I'm afraid my son is going to fail seventh grade,” I wrote in a letter to the district. “I need to spend more time with him and help with his school work if he's going to make it through this year.” I was very blessed. After receiving the letter, the district agreed to release me from my contract.
Thank goodness I had more time for Russell, because once I began working with his teachers I discovered there was a lot more going on than I had realized. Not only was my son falling behind in all of his classes, he was also being bullied at school.
Russell was a quiet, easy going boy, never one to make a fuss or call attention to himself. Because of this, I'd had no idea how bad things were. One Sunday night Moe and I came home from a meeting to discover that WWIII had erupted in our house. Russell had had a melt down and thrown sugar all over the kitchen, then written me a note saying he wanted to die. I found him upstairs in his room, cowering under the covers, while the rest of the kids were having a fit about how crazy he was.
What a mess! I had no idea what to do, but Moe patiently talked things out with Russell. Afterwords we sat down and talked.
“I don't think we should send Russell back to school until we work things out,” Moe told me. “We either need to take Russell out of his resource class right now, or have you home teach him for the rest of the year and see if you can't get his skills up to where he could be mainstreamed next year.”
“What's wrong with his resource class?” I asked. Russell had been diagnosed with a learning disability early in elementary school, and he'd been in resource ever since. I'd worried that he'd turn into a trouble maker like many of the boys who were in resource, but he never had. He didn't seem to make a lot of progress each year, his teachers complained that he didn't apply himself or work hard enough, but how would taking him out of resource help?
“I don't know exactly what is going on,” Moe told me patiently, “but Russell hates that class, and I think he's scared to go there. Something's going on that we don't know about, and until we can get it figured out, I don't think we should send him back.”
I was surprised, but what Moe said made sense. Russell had been having stomach aches lately, and I'd wondered if he might be working himself into an ulcer. I just hadn't realized how bad the stress really was.
“OK,” I told Moe, “I'll keep him home from school tomorrow, and talk to the councilor to see if we can't figure out what is wrong.”
Russell was so relieved when we told him that it made me want to cry. I sure hadn't realized how bad things were. I made an appointment to meet with his resource teacher and the counselor to see what we could do, and Moe went and bought five new computer programs so Russell could start learning at home. He was much happier that week, and I was glad Moe was there to give him extra attention.
The following week Moe got out of work early so he could go with me to talk to Russell's teachers and the school counselor. We told them about our concerns, and surprisingly they were already aware of the problem.
“There are three or four boys in Russell's resource class that are pretty bad,” the counselor told us. “and they have been bugging Russell for some time.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, turning to look at the resource teacher. “Last year I heard there were some boys teasing Russell, but when I called and talked to the resource teacher she said it wasn't big a deal and they'd handled it. Are you saying those same boys are still giving him a bad time?”
“I guess they are,” the teacher said. “There's actually six or seven boys involved, and we've suspended three of them for beating up on Russell. The others have been put in ALC (during the day suspension) for being involved.”
“But you never told us about this before?” I questioned, amazed.
“Didn't Russell tell you they were bugging him?”
“No. He hasn't said a thing about it since last year. I thought you'd handled it back then.”
“Well, apparently not,” the counselor told me, with a dirty look at the resource teacher. “It seems that these same guys have been following Russell around all day, bugging him and intimidating him and generally making life miserable for him.”
My poor son! Since he figured he couldn't fight back he had just been taking their bullying and holding it inside. No wonder he finally broke down! Thank goodness Moe saw through and insisted we take some action and keep Russell home until something was done. Especially since we discovered that the week we kept him home, Russell's regular teachers were all off campus at a special convention, and he would have had all substitutes. No telling what would have happened if he had been at school!
I really felt terrible for not seeing how big the problem was. I was so used to Russell not liking school that I just thought he didn't want to do the work.
In the end we made arrangements with the counselor to change Russell's schedule, getting him out of the classes he shared with those boys. Although he wasn't thrilled with the idea of going back to school, Russell finally agreed to give it a try for one week, and see how it went. I was proud of him. Mostly, we needed to make sure that he talked with us every day to let us know how things were going.
I also offered to be a teachers aid or help out on campus somehow, thinking it would make Russell feel more secure knowing I was there. He wanted me to sit in his room every day, but that would be pretty intimidating for his teachers, especially to have a parent who was a 7th grade teacher herself sit in on their lessons.
Moe gave Russell a special blessing before he went back to school. In the blessing Moe reminded Russell that since he had the privilege of holding the Priesthood, he not only could use it to bless other people, it could also help him out during the day.
The blessing, us being involved, and changing Russell's schedule seemed to help him feel better about school. It still wasn't easy, but he had the courage to keep going. One of the things we all looked forward to was the new Junior High being built close to our house. It was scheduled to open the following year, so Russell would be able to go there for 8th grade, leaving behind at least some of the problems he had been forced to live with.
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