Absence
James, a 6th grade boy, was absent on Monday. Nothing out of the ordinary, we're just long enough into school to have kids start missing because of various small illnesses.
He was absent on Tuesday. We prepared work to send home, thought nothing about it.
I certainly gave it no thought this morning while we were in a conference suggesting that one of his classmates get tested. Nor while I had a team meeting after that. Being absent for two days is no biggie. But, we always call on the third day to touch base and to make sure that there is nothing seriously wrong.
We didn't have to call. James's mother called us.
Over the weekend, James had a seizure. He slipped into a coma and hasn't yet woken up. Last night the doctors told the family that he probably will not survive.
James was one of those kids that you just found yourself smiling at. He had a quick brain and loved participating in discussions. He was funny and smart, even if he did tend to be a tad lazy and perhaps didn't work to the fullest of his potential. His other teachers said that his mind had a tendency to wander, but I never found that the case in my class. He was easy to discipline. With a glance and a knowing smile, he would smile ashamedly back and get back on task. Often, he would seek me out to ask further questions, and looking older and being taller than the rest of the class, with a magnetic personality he was a natural leader, and far too young to leave this earth.
We haven't announced it to the school yet, I think the administration is waiting for there to be some certainty in his situation. I think this is good. I've never lost a student before, and this gives me some time to pull myself together before I shift into the role of grief counselor.
He was absent on Tuesday. We prepared work to send home, thought nothing about it.
I certainly gave it no thought this morning while we were in a conference suggesting that one of his classmates get tested. Nor while I had a team meeting after that. Being absent for two days is no biggie. But, we always call on the third day to touch base and to make sure that there is nothing seriously wrong.
We didn't have to call. James's mother called us.
Over the weekend, James had a seizure. He slipped into a coma and hasn't yet woken up. Last night the doctors told the family that he probably will not survive.
James was one of those kids that you just found yourself smiling at. He had a quick brain and loved participating in discussions. He was funny and smart, even if he did tend to be a tad lazy and perhaps didn't work to the fullest of his potential. His other teachers said that his mind had a tendency to wander, but I never found that the case in my class. He was easy to discipline. With a glance and a knowing smile, he would smile ashamedly back and get back on task. Often, he would seek me out to ask further questions, and looking older and being taller than the rest of the class, with a magnetic personality he was a natural leader, and far too young to leave this earth.
We haven't announced it to the school yet, I think the administration is waiting for there to be some certainty in his situation. I think this is good. I've never lost a student before, and this gives me some time to pull myself together before I shift into the role of grief counselor.