Mi Amigo Rocko Part 3

Part 3 Rocko gave a complete report to the class the next day about our visit impressing on them how vital he was to our successful solicitation. It was nice to see him so proud. I spoke with the history teacher who was happy that I would take on the teaching of the state government and it's operation. Sadly, he is one of those history teachers that murders any joy in the subject for so many students.
He stands in front of the class reading from the history book assigning questions from the chapters as he reads. Not creative, inspiring or close to what the kids deserve. Rocko took over orchestrating our postings of various state responsibilities on poster paper, which he hung in the front of the room.
The computer room was up and running giving us the opportunity to research each of the state representatives keeping track of what they sponsored, supported, their voting record and whatever else we could learn about them.
Each student had to write three questions to each representative.

They knew that once I had reviewed those questions they would then choose the one question they really wanted to ask. I would shuffle the questions when the representatives visited giving a semblance of fairness to what questions got asked.

The kids never picked up on my ability to manage cards when shuffled- Rocko was going to be the one in charge of meeting the dignitaries when they arrived at school.
A couple of other kids would help him but he was going to be in charge. The plan was to meet them curbside when they arrived ushering them into school.

A couple of well-spoken girls would then take over giving introductions and helping in any way they were needed. One mom was making a couple of Salvadorian three-cheeses cakes, which would be awesome! We invited parents to attend the upcoming meeting so they could bask in the recognition their kids were getting from the public.

I was so proud of these kids.
Rocko did a good job being diplomatic with the other kids as well as getting after a couple of the boys for their continual infantile behavior.
He wanted this visit to go well. Everything was going great until four days before the planned visit and "round table." The principal came out to the playing field to inform me.

"You are going to have to cancel your upcoming school visit.
" I was stunned.
"Why?' "One of the legislators is pro-choice.
The Bishop and Father agree with this.

Should I call them?" "No, I'll take care of it.
" I said walking away before I ripped the smirk off his face.

Damn, who was going to lose here-the kids, yet again! I did not want to tell the kids. Fortunately, we had an assembly that afternoon that would run until I left at 2 PM. I'd call and make an appointment with one of the Reps, as this couldn't be done by phone. I'd tell the kids tomorrow.

Remember way back at the beginning of this story when I told you about a teacher who came in the room leaving offended by my Obama support. Well, she tried to give me leaflets a few times about abortion.
I fended her off thinking I'd put that to rest.

Nope! Just about the time we were organizing our visitors she wrote the principal an outrageous memo about how I shouldn't be around children because I was caustic, unprofessional, rude, taught against the church (Yikes, I'm a heretic!! Me and Galileo et al - not bad!), and I was lenient on gays and lesbians.

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It was a pretty good rant but far from any truth. I fired back a memo asking for names, witnesses, specifics as well as an apology for her remarks.

Yep, dead silence! You don't have to think too hard about who was behind canceling our visitors.

I'll cut to the chase for you. The new priest, the one that replaced the "statue shipper" is a dour sad sack of rotundity.
When he arrived he let us all know he was not going to spend time around kids or make any changes for at least a year.
He did jump into re-painting the inside of the huge church. I don't know who paid for that work so I'll take it a little easy on him for a moment. I had tried to see him a couple of times just to share with him who I was and my approach to the kids.
He never answered emails or acknowledged any notes I left him. I gave him my book about a homeless fellow for his birthday-no thanks, no communications.

Apparently they didn't cover courtesy in priest school.

It would take until spring before he ever met with me and then he lied about a number of things when I finally was in his "gracious presence.
" Do you think priests will burn hotter for lying? There will be no end of torment for what they have done to children over the ages. This priest is allowing abuse to run rampant in his school without a peep.

It's not children being sexual abused-just mentally abused.

Apparently that doesn't matter.

The next day I waited for Rocko and his siblings to be delivered to the parking lot.
I wanted to tell him first that we/I had to cancel the upcoming visit.

When I told him he didn't say a word. He just stood in front of me looking at the ground. In a flash he turned and ran back to his dad's truck jumping in without a look back.

They sat there for a few minutes before driving off.
As soon as everyone had settled down in the classroom I told the kids I needed to cancel the visit of the three state legislators.
I told them why.

At first there was quiet shock on their faces.

Next came the deluge of comments wrapped in lots of stored up anger at everything that was transpiring at the school.

I let each kid vent without interruption.
They were insulted that anyone would think that one of the legislators would take the visit to the school as their opportunity to promote abortion.
The kids were angrier then I had ever seen them. One asked about Rocko.
I told them what I witnessed in the parking lot.

They knew how he felt. They had seen the changes in him.
Once things cooled down a bit we did a brainstorming lesson on ways they could have a voice.

They quickly realized their parents were the only people who could change anything in the school.
They also knew their parents would never step up to the priest and the principal.

You could measure their sadness with a scale - Other than watching Rocko run back to his dad's truck these moments were the worst, as the kids knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were not honored. Before meeting one state legislator, the one who is pro-choice, I appealed to the auxiliary bishop, the parish priest, the head of personnel, the school council and fellow teachers to support the visit.

No answer from any of the dignitaries and no open support from the faculty. Sure, times were tough and everyone needed work but this was about true education of the kids-no, no one spoke up as I further hung myself advocating for the bare minimums for these kids.
Don Quixote? No, just someone who is very weary of how kids are treated.
The state rep was as gracious as possible after she got over the jolt of my message that they could not visit the school due to her pro-choice stance. She understood sharing that she was on the board of another Catholic school in the area and was one of the authors of a resolution recognizing some of the churches work.

I told her the kids knew of her work in the legislature, the medical field and her stances in the State Senate.

I told her about some of the questions the kids were going to ask her and the other politicians.

Of course none of them had to do with abortion, birth control or politics.

They were questions about immigration, the single most important thing to these kids, jobs for their parents, the environment and how they might go to college if they were not American citizens.
She was moved. The most important thing was that the kids would be recognized, praised, and honored by the visit and she knew it.
To take away such an opportunity is unconscionable.
Christmas came and went without Rocko returning to school. When we gathered after the holidays I was able to share a letter, from the state legislator I had met with, to the kids saying how proud she was of them and how sorry she was not able to meet with them.
I had the framed Washington State Resolution #4652 balanced on the chalk tray. Only a couple of kids glanced at it on their way out of class.
Rocko came back two weeks into the term. Any spark in him was gone.

He slouched around doing absolutely nothing in class.
He was failing and nothing seemed to matter anymore to him.
He saw his future and seemed resigned to it.
I was under siege trying to avoid and minimize the teacher who wrote the crazy memo.

She now had the principal insisting I meet with her to discuss her diatribe. Of course I refused to do that, as there was nothing to be gained. I had found out that the lady who wrote the original scathing indictment was one of her prayer buddies-all was revealed to the duplicity of all of them.

The priest knew who wrote it, the principal knew who wrote it and the Bishop knew who wrote it.
None of them had the courage to stand up and discharge the person for the libelous trespass. I would never receive an apology.
I didn't deserve one in their eyes. Apparently, they had not intended to renew my contract.
That I signed it made them back off from being overly transparent in their desire to get rid of me. I knew the principal had gone to an irrational place when he told us his job at school was to "save kids souls." He said it when we were pleading with him to expel a thug he let in the school against all of our wishes. He was so angry when we asked him yet again he just blurted it out.

His reactionary statement was a showstopper that should have made a few people take note.
People were so beaten down they let it slip off of them without notice.

They just wanted to keep their heads down and ease towards summer.
Rocko was suspended a couple of more times for refusing to obey direct orders barked out by the principal directly into his face, similar to how a Marine Corp Drill Instructor would address a recruit. I spoke up and wrote the principal a personal letter stating I would not sit quietly allowing him to abuse kids in that fashion.

No reply.

He was losing the ability to control his anger. He muttered about his adult daughter coming out of the closet, his soon to be x wife busting his chops and his own kids avoiding him. My students often passed on what they heard from the principal's kids who attended a different school.
These pressures combined with little or no knowledge on how to deal with this age group, or the fineries of a relevant education were leading him off the mental cliff.
He became an object of ridicule to the students and those teachers who lacked the backbone to stand up for what is right, as they spoke behind his back about his short comings.
As I wrap up this epistle I'll share that a woman with thirteen years of service to the school resigned due to the hostile environment created by the principal.

Her resignation letter sharing her sadness may have been one of the most courageous acts in her life. Her trust in the priest, Bishop, her faith and the belief the church would stand up for the kids were all crushed on the rock of reality.
As the weeks rolled by she shared that no one responded to her letter.

As my future was becoming clear I asked the priest, the Bishop and the school council to recognize her plea and at the least, acknowledge her pain.
They never answered me and they never spoke to her. She left the school when summer began with a large crack in her heart. I reported the principal to his superiors for continuing to badger kids abusing them with his shouting at them for the smallest of infractions. I included verifiable witnessed events that any rational manager would have investigated. Not a peep! Two volunteers quit stating they would not put up with his aggressive hostile behavior.
They gave me permission to quote them after reading what I was mailing to the Bishop. No, no one from the Archdiocese did anything.
I wrote the Bishop a letter hand delivered to his residence and his office pleading for him to intercede in the kids, and our behalf.

He wrote back saying he would not and that I probably misinterpreted things due to management styles etc.
He completely ignored every witnessed transgression by the principal, priest and worst of all, himself.

Did I mention that the parish priest was the Bishops first boss when the Bishop became a priest back whenever? You've read the news-you know what these guys are up to in their corrupt boys club. Rocko was a huge challenge.

I almost said problem. He wouldn't do much of anything for anyone.
Our relationship was warm but the lightness had gone out of it.
I was able to get him involved around immigration issues.
I finally found a great book, Crossing the Wire, about two boys from Mexico trying to sneak into America. He really liked it. He took part in the group discussions and in the group projects.
He seemed to perk up giving himself the role of being an expert on immigration. He was more open than other kids about his legal status. A number of students would sit in the room hoping no one would ask them if they were here legally.

These kids knew when to bring it up and when not to. I had their trust, which I honored.
I was fired in late April.
The letter I received referenced a meeting in early February where all the bosses agreed to terminate me.

Hah, the priest never brought this up when I had my meeting with him in early April.
Shame on you, Father.
The principal told the kids it was because they needed some one full time who could teach both humanities and science.
Of course the kids saw through this whooper, as they knew all the way along when the arrows were being fired at all of us. As with everything else I shared with them the truth rather than supporting the transparent lie the principal had insulted them with. Rocko hung around me as much as he could during the day.
I tried to talk to him about a new strategy and what actions he could take to help himself.
I knew he would never get ESL, title 1 or any other support at this school.
Many days I had to sit in my car for a while before leaving, as I wanted to somehow make things right for these kids.

I wanted to scream from the roof how these kids were being underserved. I wanted to organize parents.
I wanted scared teachers to speak up, as they, more than many, knew what was right.
I knew it was a waste of time.

The priest and principal wanted their little fiefdom to continue along without any questioning minds asking for more for those that are most precious. It was hard leaving these kids. I ducked the last day saying my goodbyes to each one of them individually before the hoopla of the last assembly. There was no pretense on any of our parts.

We were sad and showed it. About a month ago I visited the Salvation Army where the kids were serving the elderly their lunches.
I wanted to see them where we could all feel comfortable.
I surprised them by hiding behind a pillar until they exited the shuttle bus.

It was great! The hugs were worth all the stars blinking at once! I did not share that I was told the priest wanted to end this community outreach to the elderly.

He is looking for something "more Catholic.
" Never stops! Just once put the kids first-just once. Please.

Rocko was beside himself hanging on to me or sitting close the whole time we were together.
I gave him my number telling him to call if he needed any help with schoolwork. Truth is - I doubt I'll hear from him - he's too proud. He will be accepted into high school, probably the Catholic one that seems to take anyone, even though he has failed most subjects. In high school he will either luck out finding support or realize fairly soon that he can't make it competitively, dropping out to work full time.
Seattle schools have a 60% failure to complete rate.

The "Latino" the rate is around 50%, African Americans a pinch over 50%-the district is too embarrassed to list the failure rates for Native Americans and South Islanders.
Somehow these schools stay open in the face of failure. Rocko's dad made the decision to place his kids in this school based on hope and fear. He may never realize just how badly his son has been treated in a system that is designed to fail his child's every needs.
He will just hope and hope and hope.
He will never see the recent state exam figures showing that in his son's class 12/24 passed reading, 11/24 passed writing and 15/24 passed mathematics.

He will probably throw away the test results on his kids when he gets them because he can't understand the pages of numbers, codes, symbols, and rankings that are difficult to comprehend even for us who are suppose to be able to understand these reports.

He'll hope it all works out-he will hope the lies the principal tells him are the truth. Perhaps the saddest thing about this long reflection is that I could have written it about any one of a dozen or so students.
They are not being educationally supported at a school that is taking advantage of them, their faith and their dreams.

Shame on them!! Shame on the teachers for not speaking up! Shame on the school council for not doing their due diligence! Shame on the church for allowing this to happen in their name.

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For mi amigo Rocko.

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Puede dios bendecirle y detener mi amigo Rocko.

N.B. The above is the truth with a minimum of creative license.