I Am Holding My Breath.
Two. Days. Left.
Shane has two B’s and is retaking quizzes and tests, in science and algebra, to bring up his grades by the end of the day on Thursday.
I don’t care about science. Algebra goes onto his college transcript. I care about that.
Shane doesn’t really care about either one, but he does whatever his teachers or I ask him to do.
He wants straight A’s, but not because he cares about college. He wants straight A’s because he would get a little asterisk next to his name on the local “Honor Roll” website.
Perception is everything.
Meanwhile, Dylan is running on about four hours of sleep per day. He has so many zeros and missing assignments, he can no longer take a minute off. He’s been working hours and hours – even into the wee hours of Shane’s birthday. Then he’s getting up and going to school an hour early, to get things done before the day kicks into full gear.
He works through lunch. Every. Single. Day. He hasn’t had a free lunch period in a month.
On days when he doesn’t have play practice, he’s staying after school and working with his case manager to catch up. Then he comes home from school and, as is now required by his parents, spends an hour and a half sitting in the office with his laptop, under his parents’ watchful eye.
This is a new requirement, which will continue for the rest of his sophomore year. If it works, he might actually be caught up, instead of spending a month catching up.
Then, when Dylan is done with his hour and a half, sometimes he works for a few more hours.
As he is doing all the work he missed, more work is coming due. Some of it he knows about. Some of it, he doesn’t.
If he gets less than a 2.0, or he has an “E” (failing grade) on his report card, he will no longer be Willy Wonka in the play about Willy Wonka.
I am holding my breath until the quarter ends.
Dylan thinks he will have a 3.29 and that a “C” will be his lowest grade.
Perception is everything.