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Authors: Jules Smith

BOOK: Sophie's Throughway
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I scurried into reception and saw Karl sitting there suited and booted and enveloped in a dark grey, cashmere overcoat. He certainly looked the part. We didn't look like parents who tolerated thuggery and outlandish behaviour from our offspring.

“Thanks for coming, it is appreciated.” I sat down next to him and he handed me a visitors pass. It was odd seeing my name in his writing. I'd forgotten what it looked like and my stomach lurched from the memory.

“So…Fill me in,” he said, turning toward me slightly.

I explained that Brendon had been breaking into computers, being defiant and rude as usual, playing rough shod with his mates in the hallways etc. I explained that Mr. Fothergill had put him on governors report and this was his last chance. Karl and I both despised Mr. Fothergill. He was like a politician and loved the sound of his own voice. He was only interested in results that made
him and his school look good and seemed to have very little empathy with pupils. He didn't want Brendon in his school, that was obvious and in many respects I understood why not. Nobody needs a kid like Brendon spoiling the creamery and going round the school like a whirling dervish. However, the school got money for supporting and including children with disabilities and it would be difficult for him to get rid of Brendon without doing it properly.

Janice Armitage appeared in reception. “They're ready for you now.”

We followed her upstairs where we met Brendon at the top. He gave his Dad a courteous nod and Karl patted his shoulder.

“Make sure you behave in here,” I whispered as I sidled next to him.

We entered the board room, where situated around a large oval table sat Mr. Fothergill and his secretary, Mr. Locks the deputy head plus two ladies and a man who I surmised were ‘The Governors'. The rest of us walked in and took our seats.

“Good afternoon,” said Mr. Fothergill. “If everyone can introduce themselves round the table for the purpose of the minutes.” Mr. Fothergill looked just like Neil Tenant (present day version) from The Pet Shop Boys sans musical personality. We went around the table saying our names out loud. “Sophie Rhodes, Mother.” I announced hoping Karl wouldn't do his James Bond thing and look a pillock. “Karl Rhodes, Father,” he said. Phew, thank God.
“Brendon Rhodes, fugitive,” said Brendon stoically. Really? Now he wants to be funny? I noticed two of the governors smile at his reply and thanked God they had a sense of humour.

“Brendon, please remove your coat,” demanded Mr. Fothergill.

“I'd rather not, I'm cold.”

I kicked Brendon under the table and sweetly said, “Take your coat off, darling,” whilst giving him that ‘
I-swear-to God-I'll -kill-you-if-you-start
' look.

He took it off.

“Right, well I think myself, Mrs. Armitage and Mr. Locks will take turns in going through the issues and incidents of late from the reports and comments from staff.” Mr. Fothergill continued. “The nature of the incidents to be discussed were serious enough for me to place Brendon immediately onto governors report. After we have highlighted the incidents both the governors and Mr. and Ms. Rhodes can respond.” He looked at us all for confirmation. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him but I nodded politely. There was something about him that made me revert to child. Some teachers seemed to do that to you and make you feel really nervous and inadequate which was ridiculous. I was used to big meetings, press conferences and bullshitters and could generally hold my own in most situations but this one made me feel about six years old. Thankfully, Karl didn't have that problem. Nor did Brendon which
was
the problem.

Mr. Locks started. “Unfortunately there have been a
plethora of incidents, some minor like rough play in the corridors with friends and having his phone out in school but the few I'd like to concentrate on are these:” He lifted up the report sheets. I got my pen and notebook ready to make crucial notes.

Media: Miss Brown
- Brendon told me he could not log onto the school computer because he had forgotten his password. I said he would have to use paper for the lesson. He said “No, that's antiquated can you please get my computer open.” When I refused he responded with, “How long have you been teaching at this school and you still don't know how to do that?” I asked Brendon to be quiet but he refused and persisted challenging my decision. I told him to settle or he would be asked to leave. He refused, and I said I would call for someone to remove him. He said, “Fine. Make the call.” I called for Mr Fearon to remove Brendon. On the way out of the class he came over to me and said, “You have been in a bad mood with me for, let's see, about a week now. This suggests you might have some personal issues. I don't think you should be letting your personal issues affect your teaching of this lesson.” I found his comments of a derogatory nature.

Miss Harris
: I entered L15 and found Brendon and another boy playing with a football. I confiscated the ball and Brendon looked at me, smiled and clicked his fingers and pointed at my face. I told him not to do that. He replied “God, you're miserable.” I told him that was rude and he
said, “No, perceptive.” His comments were very personal.

“There is also the incident involving the Imperio computer system which is what has had Brendon step up to the level of governors report; he shut down the whole system and tried to print several books from the internet,” he finished.

I looked around the table and one of the governors was shaking her head.

Janice Armitage took over from there. “Well Brendon
has
had some positive comments too, one from Miss. Bench from French.” I tried not to snigger at this and put my hand over my mouth. ‘Miss. Bench from French' the one with the stacked top shelf as it were. No doubt he behaved in
that
lesson.

“There's also one from Design Technology…Mr. Green, who says Brendon was very helpful in bringing all the woodworking tools to the classroom.” I looked over at him wondering if he'd half inched a chisel or something. Brendon had a thing for destructive tools.

“We are working very closely with Brendon on his social interaction and what is and isn't appropriate and have set aside a little more time in BASE to have one to one time with him.” She stopped and nodded towards Mr. Fothergill.

Mr. Fothergill took a deep breath, lifted his notes and tapped them on the table to straighten them. He thanked Mr. Locks and Mrs. Armitage for their input before his analysis.

“Apart from the very serious incidents that we've just
heard about there are several other minor events where Brendon is quite rough around school, play fighting with friends, which can be very intimidating for other pupils as well as staff.” He looked pointedly at Brendon. “Because of his pertinent attitude and remarks of a personal nature to staff, including swearing at dinner ladies, he has, in the space of one month, been issued with seven detentions and an isolation. His behaviour has got to change drastically, particularly now we are in GCSE year. Abusing the schools computer system is certainly something that will not be tolerated and due to this, I would like Brendon to remain on governors report for the next six weeks with a review at another scheduled meeting to see if he has met with the sanctions.”

I looked at the half scribbled notes in my book: Computers, Mr. Fothergill's tie -
hideous,
passwords and other starred, blank lines waiting to be filled along with mindless drawings I'd done of circles and triangles. Completely useless and not to my usual note taking standard.

The governors were then asked to give their thoughts. Mr. Smith introduced himself; the only male governor. He had a kind open face and I liked him before he even opened his mouth. “Well, now we've heard some of the incidents I'd like to get an idea of how Brendon feels about them.” He spoke calmly and with a smile as he looked over at Brendon, who raised his eyes to meet his for a split second before going back to the piece of paper he'd been making into some sort of origami concoction. “And of
course, from Mr. and Ms. Rhodes on their thoughts,” he continued. Yes. I liked him. I drew a little star next to his name on my notes.

“If you don't mind Mr. Smith,” interrupted the lady governor, who'd been shaking her head and looking like a cantankerous shrew, “before that, I'd like to know why this young man here hasn't even
flinched
at the mention of all these detentions and from where I'm sitting, has shown
very
little remorse and not
once
lifted his head up and given any eye contact!”

I looked at the lady governor dumbfounded and then at Karl who moved uncomfortably in his seat. Brendon looked briefly around, then at me, and then back to tearing up his paper toy.

She leant forward, directly opposite Brendon, peering through her gold rimmed, glasses at him. She was around sixty -ish with dark grey hair, wound in a tight bun which fitted neatly into the nape of her neck and sported a crisp, white blouse. Old school. Straight out of a Dickens novel.

A moment of over stretched silence hit the room as we all, but Brendon, looked on at her.

“You
do
understand Aspergers?” Karl directed at her.

“I'm asking that your
child
answer, Mr. Rhodes, and please look at me when I'm addressing him,” she stated.

“Clearly not then, Mrs…?”

“Johnstone, Mrs. Johnstone. I introduced myself earlier,” she retorted firmly.

“If you were familiar with the condition Aspergers, Mrs. Johnstone, then you'd be aware that a child with this
‘disability,'
he emphasised, “will not look you directly in the eyes when talking to you as they find it intimidating.”

“Regardless, its common manners and I'd like his response to the level of detentions he has acquired,” she clipped.

“Brendon,” I looked over to him and smiled. “Please can you tell this lady how you feel about the amount of detentions you've had.”

He looked at me and then at her, flitting between us as he answered. “I don't feel anything…I don't know what you mean…”

“Do you not see this as
quite
outrageous to be punished this often?” she asked.

“Not really, I don't always think I should have a detention, not for the little things that I don't think are bad.” He continued shredding his paper more ferociously.

“And what about the comments you make to teachers? Do you not think they're inappropriate?”

“I'm only saying what I think.”

“Well let me tell you what I think: I think you are a rude and defiant young man who is discrediting this school. You are lucky to be getting an education and good teachers and all you seem to be doing is making a mockery of it all with your
outlandish
and difficult behaviour.'

I saw Mr. Fothergill nod in agreement. I wanted to smack him in the face. Before either Karl or I could interject Brendon spoke up for himself.

“Look, I don't know what it is you don't get but I don't see detentions as bad. Like, they don't bother me. I
get them all the time because no one understands me and even if I try to explain it to teachers they say ‘
I'm arguing
' and I just get another one. I mean, do you
really
think I WANT to be like this?” He actually did look her directly in the eye when he said that. “Do you think I want to have Aspergers? I want to be like every other kid and be able to sit still and get on with work and understand people but I can't and I can't change it.”

My heart melted and I wanted to gather him in my arms and take him far, far away from this nightmare situation. I saw empathy in the eyes of the other two governors but not of the old shrew. She remained staunchly hard faced.

“Brendon,” said Mr. Smith, “thanks for telling us that and we will take that on board, of course. Now if we can move over to Mr. & Ms. Rhodes and have their thoughts.” He smiled warmly in our direction.

Karl looked over at me to see if I wanted to go first. I looked down at my notes…hmm…they weren't much help. “Well,” I started, trying to run events through my mind, “obviously I'm concerned and upset that Brendon has been moved onto this level of report but I am well aware that the computer incident is totally unacceptable and I have spoken to Brendon about this. As for the other incidents, well, I don't think some of them are relevant like ‘horse play' with your friends. That's just normal, teenage boy behaviour, surely?” I looked for agreement in the sea of faces but didn't find it. “The inappropriate responses, well, that's part and parcel of the condition but
something both Mrs. Armitage and I are dealing with together. I do come in to school regularly to meet up with the SEN team and working as a united front seems to help.” It was weak but I wanted them to understand that I was doing my level best to keep him walking within the walls of acceptance.

“Well it doesn't appear to be helping very well Ms. Rhodes,” Mrs. Johnstone replied with a condescending smirk on her face.

I felt like a berated school child and coloured slightly at her remark.

“Are you aware of how difficult this is for me?” I asked looking at her and around the room at the others. “You talk to me as though I'm not making any effort. I leave my job early or get in late so that I can get to this school and help out
and
I try my hardest to support the teachers as well as my son in the education system. I don't know if you're aware but I have two children in this school. My daughter is a model student, certainly not discrediting, and has an exemplary record. She is in all the top sets, is polite, and very popular with both her peers and her teachers. Now, the
interesting
thing is, both my son and daughter have been parented in exactly the same way. I know how to bring my children up properly with manners and morals and respect for others. The difference is, one of them has Aspergers and PDA.”

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