My Student, Sam

I remember the first time that I saw Sam. He was a tall boyof about six foot two inches. He was only in the ninthgrade, but I understood that he was an outstanding footballplayer and a leader on his Junior Varsity team. I laterunderstood the rest of Sam’s story. Sam came from amiddle class family. His father worked in the constructionbusiness, and I am not exactly sure what his mother did. His parents worked hard, but that was the end of it. Thesupport that Sam received at home was zero, or maybe lessthan that. I had to constantly push him to do well. Forseven hours a day, I was trying to pull him up while hisparents were at home telling him that he was worthless. Needless to say, I had to start all over and try to undo thedamage that his parents had done the night before. The sadthing was that Sam was and is a good kid. His grades wereexcellent as long as he had somewhere there to brag on him. One time, I had to have a parent conference with hisparents. His mother did not show up, but his father wasthere. The conference was required, so Sam had done nothingwrong. It was mainly to talk about Sam’s future plans. Iknew that as sad as it was, if Sam left behind his home andparents, he would be a success in life. Their main role wasto unfortunately drag him down. Another teacher and I beganto brag on Sam and the excellent student that he was. Itold his father that he was a true success story if I hadever seen one told. At the beginning of the year, Sam didnot care much about his grades, but as the year went on, hebegan to care more and more. I believe he was finallybeginning to break free of his parents. As we told his dadhow proud we were of him, his dad began to laugh and tell usthat the must be talking about a different kid. He saidthat there was no way for us to be talking about him. Samleft that meeting lower than every before. I finally sawwhat he had to deal with every day of his life. The verbalabuse was insane. How could a parent hate their kid? Howcould they set them up for failure. It was beyond me. Yetonce, again, as I walked Sam back to class, I began my joball over again. I began to undo what his father had justdone.