I didn’t know I would be ok with the angry ones at first, but I am. In fact, my first year of teaching I got one of the angriest ones I have ever met and I loved that child like he was my own. Now I don’t worry when I see the file, the reports, the suspensions and recommendations, because I know what has happened in the past will stay there and together we will carve a new path. And I smile laugh rather than yell even when my very last button has been pushed and pushed and pushed because in the end that is all there is to do. That child already has enough anger for the both of us.
So the angry ones keep on coming and they bring new stories of broken relationships and reasons why school just isn’t for them. And we listen, and we nod, and we take note and look for that kid that is still in there somewhere. And we hope that they leave us a little less angry, a little more trusting, a little more ready for the next step in life. In the end, that is all we can do; hope and believe. Hope we must because the angry ones needs us as well and believe we have to because someone has to believe that there is still a chance. Even for the angry ones.