His name is Lump

There is a kid in the third grade who is not new to my school but who came to my class for the first time today. He had been in another section, but things weren't working out for him so well over there. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he would suddenly start screaming at the teacher for no reason, or that he would channel his inner Bobby Knight and throw chairs across the room. Whatever the reason, my colleague Mrs. Math (who just so happens to be petite AND pregnant) no longer felt safe with this kid in the room, so it was decreed that he would join my lovable group of misfits and ruffians.

I'm going go ahead and call him Lump, for reasons that will soon be obvious if they aren't already. Lump was supposed to be in my class last Friday morning, but he never came. It wasn't until much later in the day that I heard the whole story about what had been going on that morning.

Lump showed up in Mrs. Math's room on Friday morning, and she immediately told him that he needed to come to my room. He refused, instead deciding to loiter around the bulletin board in the hallway just outside of her classroom. Her partner, Lump's other teacher, also told him that he needed to get his butt over to my room, and he refused her as well.

In due course, Lump outright refused our behavior specialist, our head of special education, our assistant principal, our principal, and a DISD police officer. I think at one point, Chuck E. Cheese and Santa Claus even wandered through the hallway and asked him to go to my room, and he flipped them off as well.

The amazing part to me, though, is that this kid absolutely would not do what the school principal was telling him to do, and there were no consequences for him. He was allowed to just sit out in the hallway and pout. This really makes me wonder about what kind of recourse I have if he ever does anything nutty in my room.

Because he DID finally come to my room -- this morning. A little before eight, I stuck my head out into the hallway and saw him standing down by Mrs. Math's bulletin board again. He was pulling the border off of it. I went down to talk to him.

"Aren't you supposed to be in my room?" I asked him. He shook his head no. "Yeah, you are. You were supposed to be on Friday, also. You're certainly not supposed to be down here pulling apart this bulletin board that your teacher put so much effort into."

He kept pulling the bulletin board apart. I continued, "I really couldn't believe it when I heard that you wouldn't even do what the principal told you to do on Friday. You DO know that if you don't come to my room, you're going to alternative school, right? Is that really what you want?"

After hearing the story about last Friday, I highly doubt that he's on the fast track to alternative school (though that boggles my mind why he wouldn't be) -- but I figured it couldn't hurt to put the scare into him. Turns out, it worked. After talking to Lump, I left him and went to talk for a minute to another teacher. When I came back out of that classroom, Lump had thrown four more papers from the bulletin board onto the hallway floor, but he was making his way towards my classroom.

I thanked him for making a very good choice, I shook his hand, and I got him set up at his desk with a breakfast, milk, and juice. And for the rest of the day, I pretty much ignored him, as I had been instructed to do. He, in turn, lived up to his name of Lump. He did absolutely nothing. I made sure that he had his Problem of the Day spiral notebook and a brand-new pencil, but he certainly did not work on the problem. He just sat there like a lump, except for the 30 minutes or so when he fell asleep and snored loudly.

This is going to be a really fun final six weeks!!!!