Because he likes me

A year and four months ago, A., M., O., and E. stepped out of my classroom for the last time as 5th graders. They were moving on to middle school. All four of them were genuinely sweet, nice boys. One of them was academically not too shabby. Another had a lot of room for improvement, but he had a foundation to build upon. The other two were newcomers. One had arrived from Mexico in December, the other from Guatemala in March. Their literacy skills even in Spanish were really, really low, so learning English was a slow, painful, arduous process for both of them. They hadn't made much progress. But, again, they were all nice kids, their futures full of challenges but also promise.

A year and four months later, they were all sitting in our director's office, tears streaming down their faces and the faces of their parents, as they were interrogated by sheriff's deputies for vandalizing eight teachers' cars, causing thousands of dollars in damage. The consequences so far? Five days of out of school suspension and a date in juvenile court where the judge will be asked to award compensation to the teachers involved.

In his written statement, M. admitted scratching my car. He wrote that he knew it was my car, scratching it with the metal end of his pencil, but because he likes me he did it very lightly. O., seeing this and disapproving, told him to go back and do it again, harder this time, and so he did.