Getting Through the Vicissitudes of Life

The O’Brien boys were a handful. Apathetic overstates how disinterested in school they were. They wandered in and out of my class, and when I wasn’t teaching, I’d see them aimlessly strolling the halls as if they had no place to be. They were mischievous yet charming, belligerent at some times and cooperative at others. They were also smart, funny and irreverent. But no matter what I or anyone else did, they wouldn’t engage in school.

Teachers have a hard time ignoring potential, and the O’Brien boys had it. It bothered me to watch them squander it. With a bit of digging, I finally uncovered a possible explanation for their disregard for school. Their dad had come out as gay the previous year. Their mom was devastated and, in the turmoil that ensued, the O’Brien boys just stopped caring.

In our school that year, one student lost a parent to cancer, another to suicide. Two more students had parents who came out, and one girl was dealing with a catastrophic illness. Beneath their privileged exteriors, the messy unfairness of life was working hard at undoing these kids.

Without any prior experience of how to deal with them, these events can be at least a temporary undoing for kids. They certainly were for me. It’s especially heartbreaking and difficult when tough things happen to kids.

On the surface, the O’Briens’ behavior was maddening. They had so much going for them. Why couldn’t they see that doing well in school would help them feel grounded and successful? Why didn’t they grab onto the lifelines that so many of their teachers threw them? 

Why? Because they were kids. And because they had never gone through anything like that before. They didn’t have a script for how to behave or feel or think. So they just reacted in whatever way felt natural to them, however self-defeating it might have seemed to those of us on the outside.

I’ve always believed that I could identify with my students because I so clearly remember what it feels like to be their age. In reality, I have the perfect vision that’s only available to us in hindsight. I survived my own adolescent turmoil, but I remember thinking the pain would never end. I remember not caring about anything, and I also remember the adults who tried in vain to help me. But there is a vast difference between the kid who’s suffering now and the adult who has come through the other side. Those two people just don’t speak the same language. So how do I show up for my students when life throws them the curve balls it inevitably will?

During the ugliest and loneliest time of my life, my grandmother wrote me a card that wished me strength and grace during “the vicissitudes of life.” I had to look up the word, but I remember it as fine advice. While they muddle through the pain and difficulty that the vicissitudes of life bring them, there may not be much I can do for my students. But I can always try to understand, and I can remember that life happens to us all, if we are very lucky. 

Sofen is a middle school writing teacher in New Jersey.