<p>“Take him! He doesn’t want to go to college. Take him, and DO something!” </p>
<p>“…ok…wait, what’s his name–”</p>
<p>“I-have-another-parent-meeting-must-go-BYEBYE!” </p>
<p>And with that, I was shoved out of the guidance counselor’s door. My guidance counselor, who has made a habit of calling me down and introducing me to students…then leaves it up to me. Sometimes he tells me what the story is, sometimes not. </p>
<p>But most of the time I got their name at least. </p>
<p>“Hi, I’m [name], and I guess I have you for the afternoon.” </p>
<p>“Unh.” This came from the sulky mouth of a lanky junior dressed in khaki’s and a Lacoste popped-collar shirt. Not the stereotypical rebellious kid, but they come in all forms I guess. </p>
<p>So “we” decided to go to my house, visit my puppy, and do whatever. </p>
<p>And we really did do whatever. It was only when racing oranges [Rick (got his name!) wanted orange juice, didn’t have any, so I showed him how to do makeshift orange juice-- roll around an orange, poke a hole, stick a straw, drink.] when we finally made some connection.</p>
<p>“My orange is going to squash your puny thing.” </p>
<p>“Mine’s fatter.” </p>
<p>“Nuh uh. Your orange is gonna be roadkill. Be prepare to see pulp fly.” </p>
<p>So we rolled it down the floor (they bounced off each other actually, he won, mine went further), when he said-- </p>
<p>“It’s not like college sucks or anything.” </p>
<p>I rolled the orange under my palm, “No, it doesn’t.” </p>
<p>“I just want to work, you know? I’m sick of this school stuff.” </p>
<p>We set our oranges on the START line. “College is fun, not just about studying.” </p>
<p>“GC can’t make me go.” He re-angled his orange. </p>
<p>“…no, he can’t.” I gave him the stink-eye for trying to inch his orange forward. </p>
<p>“What’s wrong with working first?–GO!” He rolled his orange. </p>
<p>“Cheater!” I let mine go, “Why don’t you want to go to college?” </p>
<p>“Why’s GC pushing me? Mom doesn’t even care, she says I’m too stupid to even go to CC.” </p>
<p>Bingo. (I won, by the way.)</p>
<p>That was two weeks ago. Slowly, his story began to unravel. I found out that his mother’s starting to become an alcoholic, father’s constantly “away” (thinks his father is having an affair), his friends are starting to “grow up” through drugs and beer, and classes weren’t as easy as they used to be. </p>
<p>My school is very academically-driven. This was a smart kid who was falling behind and there wasn’t anyone around. Teachers started seeing him as one of “those” kids, stereotyping him as lazy, someone who isn’t going to go somewhere. Favoritism does exist, and he wasn’t getting a break anywhere-- from his parents, peers, teachers, neighbors. So who else was there for him? He “didn’t care anymore.” </p>
<p>Everyone gets caught up in their own lives, walking around with blinders on, staring straight ahead, seeing only those who are ahead of them and trying to achieve what they achieve. Maybe just one day, look around and you’ll see that not everyone is as lucky as you are to have support.</p>
<p>I guess I just wanted to share this after hearing all the stress about APs. He, by the way, was not encouraged to take them, so he did not. </p>
<p>This was one of my nicer mentoring stories, sorry for blabbing so much.</p>
<p>– Black Sheep ;)</p>
But that’s what really happened! </p>