I understand that most teenagers
believe teachers (hell, adults) behaved differently when they were
teenagers. We went to sock-hops. We
loved school. If we felt like rebelling,
we wore racy clothes and drove our cars too fast. Maybe smoked a
cigarette; maybe took a couple sips from a beer occasionally. Honestly, I don't blame them. I thought the same thing too.
What
strikes me is that they think we are not akin to their subterfuges.
The
high school I teach at starts a half-hour later on Fridays; combined with the
fact that this occurs at the end of their week makes hitting Starbucks a must
for adolescents. I sympathize
and have no problem with that as long as students arrive to class on time and don’t
spill that Venti, blended goodness all over my floor.
But
this morning, a little lady told me a bold-face lie so that she could retrieve
her beverage after class had started.
One thing I have no patience with or tolerance for is lying. She asked me is she could go to the restroom.
I gave her permission. She came back
with a Venti passion tea.
Really?
I
hauled her tush outside and said, “Samantha, don’t ever lie to me. You ask to
go to the bathroom and you come back with Starbucks. Did you really think I
wouldn’t catch that?”
Her
eyes get real big. “I didn’t lie. I just
happen to run into my friend, and she had an iced tea for me. I swear.”
My
response: “Do you really think I’m that stupid?”
“I
swear that’s what happened.”
Yes, she thinks I'm that stupid.
Yes, she thinks I'm that stupid.
“So, you expect me to
believe that the exact same moment you had to ‘go to the bathroom’ your friend
happened to be walking the halls with an ice tea for you? You really think I am
going to believe that?”
“I
swear.”
“I
don’t believe you.”
She
stands there blinking at me.
“Don’t
ever lie to me again.”
She
huffs and storms into the classroom.
(Little
does she know that next time --or the next dozen times-- she asks to go to the
restroom, the answer will be “no.”)
I
tell my students from the beginning of the year that they will always win with
honesty and never win with lying. Honestly doesn’t mean no consequences, but they
will come down soooo much easier. All
Samantha had to do was say, “Hey Ms. Vance, my friend just brought me an
iced-tea. Can I go grab it?”
It’s
Friday. We are just doing some leisurely reading. She’s playing it straight. I would have said,
“Sure, but this is an exception. Don’t make this a habit.” The end.
Instead,
she lies. Instead, she assumes that I’m not going to catch on. She assumes that I am stupid. I’m a lot of
things, but stupid ain’t one of ‘em.
Trust
me, I was not a straight-laced kid. I rebelled. I rebelled hard. And I used the same tricks they try to use on
me. When I set my watch back 20 minutes
so that when I arrived home after curfew I could raise my little doe-eyes to my
parents and show them how my watch says I’m on time? When I forged my own notes
to get out of school early (I had an “injured knee” my junior year and had
many, many doctor’s appointments) did the attendance workers know I was lying
and just didn’t have a way to call my bluff? (They never called my mom, which is
good, because then I’d be well . . . dead).
My parents never have been push-overs.
If I got caught doing wrong, punishment was severe and swift. Yet I still ditched; I still snuck out; I
still lied. I wonder how much they actually knew and just didn’t address
because I was still bringing home good grades and treating them with
respect? Were they just worn by the
demands of their daily lives so they would allow a few transgressions?
The
message I’d like to send to all teens is this: we know a lot more than you
think we know.