Lost at School (18 page)

Joey ignored her.

“Joey, we need to talk about it,” his mom repeated.

“What’s the big deal?!” he snapped. “Why not after my show?!”

“What’s the big deal? You get suspended from school for a week and you want to know what the big deal is?!”

Joey’s eyes were glued to the television.

“Listen, Joey, you’re going back to school on Monday and I need to make sure you don’t blow it. I don’t know how many chances you’ve got left, buddy.”

The phone rang and Ms. Lowell went into the kitchen to answer it, making little effort to hide her agitation. “Hello.”

“Ms. Lowell, it’s Carl Bridgman. If this is a bad time…”

“Dr. Bridgman. Funny you should call. Joey and I were just talking about him coming back to school. Or at least trying to.”

“That’s exactly why I’m calling,” said Dr. Bridgman. “I’d like to see if we can set the stage for him to do well when he comes back. I’ve had a conversation with Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Franco, and they’ve filled me in on the things that seem to be giving Joey the most trouble. I’m wondering if there’s any chance of your getting Joey to school a little early on Monday. I’d like him to sit down with me and Mrs. Woods to come up with an action plan so he’s less likely to get so upset again.”

“What time do you want him?”

“Can you have him there about a half-hour early?”

“Yes, I think so. Anything I ought to know about your meeting with his teachers?”

“Well, we tried to get a handle on the skills Joey’s lacking that might be setting the stage for his worst moments. But we pretty much decided that we’re going to start off by trying to figure out why he gets confused on assignments, since that’s what seems to have set him off the other day.”

“Oh, OK. Um, Dr. Bridgman?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. “There’s hope for him, right?”

“Hope? Yes, of course. I think we’re going to get a good plan in place for him.”

Joey’s mom felt her voice catching. “He’s not going to end up in jail someday … or some mental institution … right?”

Dr. Bridgman had heard this question from many parents before. He had a fairly standard answer. “Not if we do the right thing now.”

“And you think we’re doing the right thing?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” she said as she placed the phone on the receiver.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Dr. Bridgman said to himself.

Mrs. Galvin invited Dr. Bridgman into her office as he was leaving school on Friday afternoon. “Mr. Middleton is going to join us,” she said.

Mr. Middleton entered the office just after Dr. Bridgman. “I found your comments about Joey very interesting yesterday,” said the assistant principal.

“Oh, good,” Dr. Bridgman sat down. “He’s an interesting kid.”

“Aren’t they all,” said Mr. Middleton.

“I was wondering,” began Mrs. Galvin, sitting down behind her desk, “about the reentry plan for Joey. Actually, I think you called it a ‘staying in school’ plan. I must say, your ideas about problem kids are a little new to me. Where did you come up with them?”

“Oh, it’s not me who came up with them,” said Dr. Bridgman. “Developmental psychologists have been writing about the skills kids need for handling life’s challenges for quite a while, but it can take a long time for what we’ve learned about kids’ brains to translate into how we help them.”

“Yes, I suppose it can,” said Mrs. Galvin. “I’m very interested to hear about how what we know about Joey’s brain is going to help him not threaten his classmates or hurt our assistant principal anymore. As you
know, our standard practice is to have the student and his parents sign a contract agreeing not to do anything unsafe again. But I have the impression that you don’t necessarily agree with what we usually do.”

“I’m just not convinced that what’s usually done is going to fix the problem,” said Dr. Bridgman.

Mr. Middleton cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. Mrs. Galvin leaned across her desk toward Dr. Bridgman.

“Dr. Bridgman, I have to apologize,” said the principal. “I don’t really know very much about you. I don’t even know where you worked before you came to our school system this year. Have you ever worked with kids like Joey?”

“I was at a middle school in an inner-city school system,” said Dr. Bridgman. “I’ve worked with some very difficult kids.”

“Difficult like Joey?” asked Mrs. Galvin, glancing over at Mr. Middleton.

“Oh, to be perfectly honest, Joey’s not all that difficult.”

“Mr. Middleton’s jaw would beg to differ,” said Mrs. Galvin stiffly. “I suspect the young lady Joey threatened to kill and her parents would beg to differ, too.”

“Oh, I’m not saying …” started Dr. Bridgman. “It’s just that, well, I’m not really comparing, but in my last few schools I’ve worked with some kids who were in pretty bad shape. A few brought guns to school because they didn’t feel safe in the building. Some others pulled knives on their teachers. Several were pregnant, or had some pretty serious substance use problems … at some very young ages. Some couldn’t come to school because they had to stay home to watch their younger siblings. And quite a few were already in trouble with the law—at ages ten and eleven—because they were involved in gangs or had to steal food or sell drugs to buy food. So I guess that’s my way of saying that I’ve worked with a lot of troubled kids.”

“Dr. Bridgman, in this school we have rules and we make sure that our students follow them,” said Mrs. Galvin. “When students don’t follow the rules, they are sent a very strong message. Believe me, I get sent a strong message by my superiors and by parents if I don’t keep all the students in my school, and my teachers, and my assistant principal, safe. And I get sent a strong message if the students in my school don’t learn what they are supposed to learn. If Joey is making my school unsafe or interfering with the learning that is supposed to be going on in this
building, my job is to hold him accountable. I’m assuming that makes sense to you.”

“It does,” said Dr. Bridgman.

“Ah, good,” said Mrs. Galvin, her posture relaxing. “So, why don’t you draw up a reentry contract and have Joey and his mother sign it so we can get him back to class and back to learning.”

“Getting him back to class isn’t the problem,” said Dr. Bridgman. “Helping him stay there without more incidents is going to be a problem. I don’t think a reentry contract is going to solve that problem.”

Mrs. Galvin stiffened again. “Dr. Bridgman, perhaps I’m not making myself—”

“Um, Dr. Bridgman,” interjected Mr. Middleton, “is there something else you think would work better?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Dr. Bridgman. “If you tell me Joey and his mother have to sign a reentry contract, I’ll have them do it. But I’d rather put my energy—and everyone else’s—into doing something that will actually work.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m asking,” urged Mr. Middleton. “What do you think will work?”

“Well, I’ve already met with him, and his mother, and Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Franco. So I think we have a pretty good sense about where we want to start.”

“And where’s that?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“We’re pretty sure that he gets set off when he doesn’t understand an assignment or gets embarrassed, so we’ll start by trying to solve those problems.”

Mrs. Galvin had trouble hiding her skepticism. “Dr. Bridgman, in real life people get embarrassed, and they don’t always understand tasks they’ve been assigned. But they don’t threaten their classmates or run out of the school. Joey’s going to have to learn how to deal with things not going according to his plan if he’s going to succeed in the real world.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Dr. Bridgman.

“So we agree,” said Mrs. Galvin.

“Well, we seem to agree on
what
he needs to work on,” said Dr. Bridgman. “But I’m not sure we agree on
how
to do it.”

“How do you think we should go about helping him do it?” asked Mr. Middleton.

“Mostly through Collaborative Problem Solving,” said Dr. Bridgman.

The principal and assistant principal glanced at each other.

“Excuse me, what?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“Collaborative Problem Solving,” said Dr. Bridgman. “It’s where we adults try to work with Joey to come up with solutions to the problems that are causing him difficulty.”

“And how exactly does one do Collaborative Problem Solving?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“Well, there are some specific steps,” said Dr. Bridgman. “First, you make sure you understand the kid’s concern or perspective about whatever is causing him difficulty. That’s called the Empathy step. Then the adults make sure the kid understands their concerns. That’s called Define the Problem. Then you invite the kid to brainstorm solutions so as to come up with a realistic, mutually satisfactory solution, one that addresses both concerns. That’s called the Invitation. Probably sounds confusing, but it’s pretty straightforward.”

There was another long pause as Mrs. Galvin processed this additional information. “Dr. Bridgman, I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen many fads come and go when it comes to disciplining kids. I hope you’ll understand if I’m not all that enthusiastic about having the flavor of the month upsetting the apple cart in my school.”

Dr. Bridgman paused. “Helping Joey learn how to solve problems and deal better with frustration isn’t the flavor of the month. If we teach him those things, then he won’t be upsetting the apple cart anymore.”

“So this Collaborative Problem Solving is something you’ll be doing with Joey so he doesn’t blow up anymore?” asked Mr. Middleton.

“Well, yes, I’m certainly happy to get the ball rolling,” said Dr. Bridgman. “But for it to really be effective, it’s something Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Franco and those who spend the most time with him need to be doing.”

Mrs. Galvin closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She glanced at her watch. “And you think my teachers, with everything else they have going on, have time to do problem-solving in a class of twenty-six students?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“Oh, Collaborative Problem Solving ends up saving time,” said Dr. Bridgman. “It certainly takes a lot less time than when we do things that aren’t working and Joey loses it.”

“And do Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Franco know how to do this?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“Well, I’ve explained it. But I’ll help them.”

“And you don’t think Joey needs to have our expectations spelled out for him in no uncertain terms?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“Joey already knows he’s supposed to do what Mrs. Woods says, not threaten to kill his classmates, and not run out of the building.”

“And you don’t think he needs to be taught that we won’t accept that kind of behavior?” asked Mrs. Galvin.

“He already knows we don’t accept that kind of behavior,” said Dr. Bridgman. “If I may be so bold, I think it’s a real shame that all Joey has ever gotten from adults is consequences that don’t teach him the skills he lacks or solve the problems that continue to precipitate his challenging behavior.”

“Well, that is a bit bold,” chuckled Mrs. Galvin, finding herself becoming a bit more intrigued by the ideas and determination of the large man sitting in her office. “Especially since I’m one of those adults who’ve been using consequences on him.”

“I’m sorry if my comments offend you.”

Mrs. Galvin smiled. “No offense taken. I may be a bit stuck in my ways, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely closed to new ideas. Isn’t that right, Mr. Middleton?”

Mr. Middleton nodded. “She has a heart of gold.”

“I’ll tell you what, Dr. Bridgman,” said Mrs. Galvin. “I don’t know you very well yet, and I’m not completely comfortable with your way of thinking. But you’re our school psychologist, not me, and I can tell you want to do the right thing by Joey and by my teachers. I’m willing to give you some rope on this one. I just hope it’s not enough for you to hang us both.”

“I can’t promise that Joey won’t blow up again,” said Dr. Bridgman.

“Well, as I think about it now, I wouldn’t have been able to promise that a reentry plan would have kept him from blowing up again, either,” said Mrs. Galvin. “So we’re even on that score. But what happens next?”

“Joey and Mrs. Woods and I are going to do some Collaborative Problem Solving.”

*  *  *

Monday morning. Joey and his mother were seated at the kitchen table.

“How come we’re going to school so early today?” Joey asked.

“Because Dr. Bridgman and Mrs. Woods want to talk with you to make sure you don’t explode again.”

Joey looked up from his bowl of cereal. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Look, Joey, you’re not in trouble. They just want to help you.”

“I don’t need any help,” Joey grumbled.

“Well, I think you’re getting their help whether you want it or not.”

Surprises were not Joey’s forte. “How come you didn’t tell me about this before?! I’m not doing it!”

Ms. Lowell was now regretting that she hadn’t tried to talk with Joey about the meeting since her failed attempt on Friday.

Joey’s brother, Jason, overheard the conversation and offered his two cents. “Hey, doofus, if you don’t talk to them about it they’ll toss your butt out of the school!”

“Jason, I don’t need you—”

“Well, they will!” Jason interrupted. “Some of the kids were saying Joey doesn’t belong in our school.”

“Jason, go get in the car and let me talk to Joey,” ordered Ms. Lowell. “Now!”

Jason flicked his brother’s ear, said “Bye, doofus,” and went out to the car.

“Loser,” Joey muttered.

“Joey, honey, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened,” said Ms. Lowell. “But Dr. Bridgman wants to come up with a plan so you don’t get so upset again.”

“I don’t need a plan. I can do it myself.”

“Joey, I don’t see the harm in letting him and Mrs. Woods help out with the plan. You liked Dr. Bridgman. And you kind of like Mrs. Woods, too. They’re not mad at you. They just want to help.”

Joey didn’t respond.

“Can we please try?” urged Ms. Lowell.

“I don’t want to.”

“I know you don’t want to. But can we please try?”

“Fine!” said Joey. “But I’m not saying anything!”