Wednesday, Feb. 09, 2005
Because maybe you're gonna be the one to save me? Because, after all, you're my wonderwall., posted at 10:10 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com In addition this, something else happened today that I think is making me depressed.I heard a knock on the door at around 3:30 today. I was about to head outside to the tennis court, where some of my baseball players are playing catch and working out early. I turned around, and there was two kids, all bundled up in lock black coats, with skull caps. One of them yelled, "Hey, (Mr. E)!" and grinned a smile full of gold.
I was taken aback, and probably looked it, because he said, "You probably don't remember me, do you?" There was a hint of accusation in his tone. But the recognition was coming. I said I did, and thankfully, the name materialized in my mind before his next question: "What's my name, then?"
"How are you doing, Rodney ____?!?" I was excited to see him; he shook my hand and gave me a half hug.
Rodney is a kid I had two years ago as a ninth grader. He was a strong reader and decent writer, but was quiet with a poor work ethic. He passed my class, barely, and didn't do so hot in others. He was reassigned because of low grades he received his first semester. I wrote a letter on his behalf trying to keep him here - I loathe to miss these borderline kids, especially the nice, smart ones, to the neighborhood schools, because I know they'll do so much better for us than those schools.
The letter fell on deaf ears, and Rodney was reassigned. I hadn't seen him in a couple of years.
Seeing him made me nostalgic for the days when I had 75 kids, when I knew them all a little bit better than I do right now. Seeing him was also poignant, because Rodney was always a kid with rough edges. Now, I fear, he's all rough edges. His decorum was completely changed from when I knew him as a ninth grader. Once quiet, he was boisterous this afternoon, bordering on obnoxious. He also just had this different look to him, like he wasn't a sweet kid any more, but someone you would see on a street corner somewhere.
I'm prejudging a bit, and probably overstating things, but Rodney seemed different. It made me sad. He was still very nice to me. I told him I wrote him a letter trying to keep him here, and he thanked me and said he really appreciated it. He said he's getting good grades at his current school, but that things are a lot different there. I told him to reapply to come back for his Senior year. He asked me if I'd write something for him, and I said I would. I hope he does; it would be nice to see him come back.
Still, seeing Rodney made me think of Barry and other kids that have passed me by, that I couldn't "save," or at least keep at the school. Seeing Rodney troll through the hallways, hugging his old friends that have stayed at the school, made me realize how much it sucks that we couldn't keep a kid like that here.
Luckily, the conversation with Rodney was balanced by a conversation with "Chris," one of my favorite students as a ninth grader. He's a horrible baseball player, but he made the team last year, and will make it again this year as a senior. Hearing about his college plans, his failed driving test, and his big sister's success in college were music to my ears. This kid is a special one - I wish I could find the entry I wrote about him during his 9th grade year - and it's been great seeing him mature.
Ups and downs. Today, too many downs. My cell phone is turned off, the result of Nextel's webpage being unable to accept payments each of the several times I've tried to pay the bill this month. When one relies on the Internet to pay bills like I do, it sucks when it doesn't work, and I just kept telling myself it would work eventually. Now the phone's off. I'm enjoying the silence, to be honest, but today, on a day when I felt more closed off from society than usual, I probably could have used some communication with others.
I took a nap when I returned from school, in preparations for my 9:30 work meeting at the restaurant. When I got there, I found out the meeting had been cancelled; they tried calling, but my phone was off. Upon hearing the news, I decided to try to find the Polish Girl. She wasn't working as a bartender at the restaurant where she works on Wednesdays, so I tried finding her apartment. I wasn't sure I had the right apartment, though, when I idled in front of it. I tossed around the idea of knocking, but it was 9:54, so decided not to chance it. I could have used a beer, though, especially with a beautiful girl.
I then thought about dropping myself at the doorstep of my friend Jesse, who lives in Fell's Point, or even driving over the water to Ryan's place. But I felt funny about knocking at either of their doors on a Wednesday night at 10pm, so decided that heading home was the best option. I need to see my friends more, though. It would have been far too random to show up at 10pm requesting their presence over a draft beer someplace, I suppose, despite my desire for comraderie and connection on this melancholy, lonesome Wednesday night.
I'm now at home, thinking about cleaning, but just writing this. I'm listening to, so far, Ray Charles, Best of the Atlantic Years, Oasis, What's the Story Morning Glory, and Sinead O'Connor, I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got. We'll see how that two hour nap affects my sleeping patterns tonight. We'll also see how today's events shape the rest of my life.