The Room Mom-Part Four

The only thing about  Ryan’s  behavior  that stood out was him  sitting in the back row on a regular basis working with  his mother, Mrs. Spencer, the Room Mom.  On the day Carlene had complained, Mrs. Spencer had not  reproached Ryan for his behavior, minimizing the incident.

“Oh, the girls are exaggerating. They don’t want the boys to exclude them from basketball. They can have their own games. Nobody is complaining when they exclude boys.” These were Mrs. Spencer's remarks at that time.

“Is that what this is about? Girls wanting to be included?” I had asked, not sure I knew the whole thing, but nevertheless not wanting to jump in and solve their problems too readily.

The next day Carlene came to school with her mother.  

“Carlene is upset,” her mother began, “you and the aide did nothing about the harassment she suffered yesterday.”

I turned to Carlene, “Why don’t you tell me the whole thing,” and then to the mother, “I might have been too hasty yesterday."

Carlene's account of the incident was that Ryan had been teasing her and her friends, and the basketball part was the last straw. Mrs. Sarnoff  finished Carlene's remarks with one of her own, "He's being abusive with his language, calling her and her friends 'whore'!" Then, turning to Carlene, "Tell your teacher the whole thing, all the times he's been teasing you and your friends."

  I remembered Mrs. Sarnoff as the lawyer who came to talk to the class on career week. Surely, she has places to go this morning.
We talked for a good twenty minutes and when the bell rang for the class to start, I got up to usher her out with, “I'll talk to Ryan and the other boys, and if things don’t calm down," I turned to Carlene, " let me know.”  I wasn’t sure we had finished, but I had a squirmy group of sixth graders pounding at the door, and she seemed fine. She handed me her card, as though I was a potential client and scurried out.

After Christmas, both Carlene, Ryan and Mrs. Spencer changed classroom assignments, and I forgot the entire incident until  I saw  Mrs. Sarnoff ,in the parking area, after school ,waiting by her car for Carlene. I was doing supervision when she came to talk to me.

“I know Carlene is no longer in your class, but I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

         “What happened?” I asked.

         “She won’t ride the bus and she doesn’t want to come to school. I took your advice, let her work out her conflicts with her friends, but it is getting worse.”
            “Have you spoken with her present teacher?”

         “I want her back in your class, and if it’s o.k with you, I’ll make a request from the principal.”

         “Sure! If that’s what you want.”

         “Mrs. Spencer  is always protecting her son. She's been like that in every class since kinder. We used to be friends, she and I. Our whole family used to take vacations together. She's now so wrapped up with her boy's school, she can't see anything else. Does his homework for him. Did you know that? Well, what Carlene tells me, he's out of control."

         Usually, parents have to have a darn good reason to change classes; but, I understood the situation and had no objections. Besides, the students who had been promoted mid-year needed so much work, it was good to get back a good student like Carlene.

Two days later, Mrs. Macke, the teacher in the classroom Ryan was in approached me at lunch time.

“Jean, what I’m about to tell you is between us,” she started, “promise that whatever…” I interrupted her by pointing to the three students who were doing their homework. She waited for me to dismiss the children before continuing.

“Ryan has been expelled,” she started, "Mrs Spencer called me at home late last night and was furious with me. She thinks I am being partial to other children. But I don't doubt what I had to report."

“What happened?” I asked.

“He touched a little girl inappropriately. I was wondering, how did he act when he was with you? I heard another child had complained about him in your class. Is that right?”

I couldn't say much that would explain or improve the situation for either Ryan or Mrs. Macke.
"He and Carlene had words at lunch time a while ago. Nothing that they couldn't handle themselves, if you ask me. But, Ryan has some kind of anger issues, and is on an IEP according to Mrs. Jones."
"Oh? I heard nothing of that!"
"Well, if the expulsion is put in place, you will. You should have known."

          In a few hours, everyone knew about Ryan’s expulsion. His mother was absent from school, and his aunt, who was the dean probably had to do all the paperwork and interviews for that expulsion. Mrs. Jones asked me to join her at the pre-expulsion hearing.

     “You are one of our most trusted educator, Jean. Please attend.”  These are the words Mrs. Jones sent me in a handwritten note. She even offered to drive me there, way out of my way. I thanked her, but drove myself.

     The room was full with parents and community members. I had never been to these events, and didn't know if I just raised my hand and spoke, or had to wait to be called.

    The district administrator called different people to the podium.  Everyone was angry at a teacher or at the principal for something they did or didn’t do to one of their children. He could not control the angry crowd, and was letting anybody who wanted to speak, speak on anything, even not directly related to the case. 

     Mrs. Spencer was there with a man I assumed was her husband. She didn’t speak; but, he did, complaining that Ryan’s teachers didn’t bother to help his boy whenever he needed help. Why, his wife had to quit her job to volunteer at school, so Ryan wouldn't get further behind. 

     Another spoke about his child being kept at lunch time as punishment; another, about the transfer of his child and how upset the whole family was with this arrangement. Even kindergarten parents  showed up to complain about low test scores, even though they wouldn't have any scores for their children. I took notes, trying very hard not to take any of these complaints personally. Though the parent who complained about the lunch time homework  had not bothered to come to me with that problem.  I would have told her to sit with her child at home and get the work done with her child. 

     This was a lynching mob, I thought. The Spencers had created a major distraction so nobody would be talking about Ryan's problems. Even Carlene’s Mom was blaming the teachers for not being alert and preventing harassment.

            The district administrator just sat there and took notes.

The room was  buzzing with a year's worth of accusations when I finally left without my two cents being shared with anyone.

By the time I reached home, I was in tears.

The minute I walked in the door, I called my son in Oregon.

“What is it Mom? Did something happened?”

           “David,  I’m glad you’re  up. It was a long day at work."

          "Are you  O.K?"

          "I'm just realizing I've not seen you guys for a while."

          "Well, come spend the summers with us. Little guy is a joy right now."

         "Easter! I want to visit you during Easter. And summer too. I can't wait another day."

      "Great! Just tell us where to pick you up."

      "I want to drive, put this place behind. Guess I'll take your suggestion too.”

“What suggestion, Mom?”

“To live a little. To get to know my little grandchild!"

“Great, Mom. You’re welcome anytime.”

“You know, I’m not getting any younger.”

“None of us are! So, next month?”
"Yes! Yes. My love to Moanie and Keeley."

      I didn’t know what I would do next; but, I knew that my teaching days were over.