Foster 
Thursday, April 10, 2014 at 06:58PM
Susan Washington

Today I was thinking about a former student that taught me a lot, I’ll call him Foster. He was a boy that I really liked and had a lot of personality but his behavior was challenging. When I taught in Amarillo I lived across town from my school so I didn’t really run into any students out of school . One evening my doorbell rang and I opened it to see Foster standing there, he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He was selling magazines , candy, or something and I listened to his pitch and bought something I believe and didn’t think much about it. Not long after that Foster got in trouble in my classroom and got very angry, in his anger he stood up and yelled at me saying he knew where I lived and that I better watch out. It was an emotional moment that escalated and I took his outburst as a threat. Because of that I called the School Resource Officer to file a complaint. 

Since Foster was in my class we had to have an ARD to discuss this incident. I was somewhat frightened because even though Foster was young he was associated with gang members so I wanted more than anything to set an example that threats would not be tolerated. Of course after Foster calmed down he apologized but the process was already in progress and I really felt I needed to follow through. I knew this was serious and could even lead to legal consequences for my student.

I’ll never forget the day of the disciplinary ARD , I was a little nervous as we waited for Foster’s guardian to arrive. I didn’t know much about his family so I waited in the office. Moments later I saw a cab pull up and an elderly lady struggled to get out with 3 young children, probably ages 2-5 , and come into the building. When she came into the office she identified herself as Foster’s grandmother and said she had to bring the other children because there was no one to watch them. She looked so frail and scared : my heart broke a little for her. As we sat in the ARD I learned that Foster’s mother was in prison and his father was absent so he and all his siblings were being raised by his grandmother. As we started the ARD the younger children began to act up and Foster took control telling them to stop and come sit in his lap. They listened to him and obeyed , it was obvious he was an authority figure in their life. Foster’s grandmother began to cry saying she didn’t know what she was going to do and Foster told her he was sorry. His eyes filled with tears and I could see his compassion for his grandmother as he tried to assure her it would be okay. My heart broke a little more for everyone especially Foster and I had to fight back tears. It was clear his role was as caregiver to his younger siblings. He was firm yet loving and his lap seemed a familiar place for his brothers and sisters. At home he wasn’t a child anymore he had to step up and be an adult. I was overwhelmed as the picture of his home life played out in front of me. His behavior made more sense now because for the most part his behavior problems were rowdiness, playing instead of working, and not being on task. Now I knew at school was the place he could be a child , the place where he wasn’t weighed down with responsibilities . 
My mind changed in that moment and I didn’t want Foster to have any legal consequences for his threats, I just wanted him disciplined at school, I really just wanted to stop it all. The School Officer agreed with my change of mind and Foster and his grandmother were relieved. I don’t remember the school punishment he received but I’ll never forget what happened next. It always brings a smile to my face.
Foster’s grandmother asked if she could borrow a phone to call a cab and began to count the money in her old tattered coin purse . I could tell she was nervous and I think she worried she wouldn’t have enough money so I interceded and asked her if she would let me give her family a ride home. She wasn’t sure what to say but I begged her and finally said okay. So Foster , his grandmother, and his siblings jumped into my Isuzu Trooper and we started to drive to their home. On the way I had to stop for gas and asked her if I could buy everyone a treat : )) The little kids were so excited as we all went into the store and they picked their favorite candy and drink and Foster was excited too. The rest of the drive was joyous as we all talked and laughed. As I let them out in front of their modest home Foster’s grandmother hugged me and then Foster said “ Thank you Mrs. Washington, I’m really sorry”. It was a special moment forever etched in my mind. 

After that day I still had behavior problems with Foster but he never threatened me or disrespected me again. We had come to an understanding , we had connected , we had something in common: both of us at an age way too young were forced to take on the role of an adult, a caregiver, and all the responsibilities that entails in our home life. Foster was living that in the present and that was my past. I could relate to him. And when he would be rambunctious and rowdy I would have to discipline him but on the inside I was smiling because he was just being a kid and I knew how much he needed that. School was his escape , a place he could act his age and because of my history I understood the need to use school as an escape. School had been my escape in a different way. 

Foster went on to high school and I moved back to the Dallas area so I never knew what happened to him until I got to prison. In prison when I ran into some former students from Amarillo I asked about a few kids that I remembered, the ones that held a special place in my heart so I asked about Foster. I was sad to learn, but not surprised, that Foster’s life got off-track and he had become a drug dealer . One girl told me that he had been her pimp . He was now a convicted felon. My heart broke again for Foster and again I understood. I could relate because I too sat in a prison , a convicted felon as well. Not sure where it all went wrong for either of us but I had an idea. All I knew is for both of us it went terribly wrong. Although we were so very different we were a lot alike.

Article originally appeared on Pompoms to Prison (http://www.pomponstoprison.com/).
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