Esme (5)

I avoid bringing work home with me. It is one of the first things they tell you when you start working; schools make you work non-stop from the moment you get into the moment you leave, so when you go, you need to leave the work here with you, or you will never get away from it.

Unfortunately, I am not always the expert in this, so I take the paperwork for Miss Alexis home to review. I need to call her down to my office tomorrow; not only do we need to talk about the bullying, but I also need to get accurate contact information for her guardians. Last year, we were busy, and I didn't notice, but all her numbers didn't work, and her parents' emails were not included in the paperwork. Usually, a teacher would see something like this when they call home about behavior. Still, Alex is generally a good girl, so she doesn't get calls home.

Focusing on this now and formulating a plan means I will have time to deal with a kid tomorrow who came fresh out of middle school with a chip on his shoulder. he was cursing up a storm at other students. When the teacher tried to intervene, he started cursing at her. Worse yet, when the teacher called home, the mom insisted that her child would never do that.

I understand wanting to be on your kid's side, but have these parents ever heard of trust but verify? So here I am, sitting on my couch looking over paperwork and emails with some coffee and my dessert when an email comes in from Darrel. he is requesting to meet with Alex. He is wondering if I could pass her file and any registered concerns onto him. That takes a load off of me. Still, I feel guilty being relieved that someone else is handling the situation. I will still do a follow-up later to ensure she is okay.

As I look over past reports of bullying, I notice a pattern in the things the students are saying. They say she lives under a bridge or in a dumpster. Many students call her a rouge, but I don't know enough about dungeons and dragons to tell whether that is an insult. When they make fun of what she is wearing, it is not the style. They asked her if that was her only option and if her other shirt was in the wash.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I look up her address. It is at the edge of town, usually full of oversized homes. I looked the address up on Google Maps only to find an empty lot currently under major construction. Things are coming together. I need to start thinking about reporting her to child protective services because it is beginning to seem like she doesn't have caregivers or they are all homeless.