By: Adam Sutton
“I appreciate a phone call. I don’t like emails.”
Tyler likes the pictures of Jamestown. He’s full of adjectives: cold, tough, harsh, lacking, strict, isolated, basic.
“Was he talking? He don’t talk out of turn! No son of mine had no problems like talking out of turn.”
“Take out your essay outline,” I said.
“Essay outline?!?! Ain’t nobody got no essay outline!”
The class in unison responds, “We got it yesterday.”
“I didn’t get it.”
“Here’s a new copy,” I say as I extend my hand to him.
“This has a smudge on it! Anybody else got a smudge?!?! Ain’t fair. I’m being picked on. Only one with a smudgy paper!”
“Everybody call my boy a cheater! Ain’t no cheater! No body seen him cheat! Where’s the proof?”
“Michelle, why did Tyler have your paper at his desk?” I asked.
“I told him it wasn’t right. He said he wouldn’t copy word-for-word.”
“Tyler, how about you tell mom before I tell her? I’ll call at 4:30 to give you time to come clean.”
2 messages and 1 hang up later, I try to stay patient and positive.