But Would I Put Him Back on Stimulants?
Reports cards just came home for the second quarter, inspiring me to recap the events of 7th grade.
During the first quarter, Dylan was on stimulants. He was on the honor roll with four A’s, 2 B’s and a C. His report card also reflects that he consistently completed his work, and turned it in on time.
During the first quarter, Dylan also had meltdowns after school that sometimes lasted an hour, sometimes four hours. He started talking about a deep and profound sadness, about his terrible new life in middle school, and about how he saw no real meaning in being on this earth.
So on the last day of the first quarter (a coincidence), Dylan went off of stimulants. The despair vanished instantly.
During the second quarter, Dylan was on a variety of relatively useless drugs. He took a high blood pressure medicine for the first half of the second quarter.
During this time, Dylan’s grades tanked. He rarely, if ever, finished his work. He lost the things he did – when pressed – finish. He turned in almost nothing on time, and certainly didn’t turn in his homework without being poked, prodded and pushed.
During the second half of the second quarter, with his medication adjusted to an anti-depressant, he stopped bouncing around as much. He was able to concentrate on rare occasions. He finished more (but not all) of his work, and still rarely turned in his homework, classwork, or even his take-home quizzes.
At the end of the second quarter, Dylan had 3 A’s, 3 B’s and a C. He’s still on the honor roll.
In other words, he got a B instead of an A in ONE CLASS (science) with the shift in medication. The real difference is the agony with which he earned those grades. Comparatively, first quarter was a breeze.
But would I put him back on stimulants? After the two-day trial during the first week of the third quarter – and the resulting horrific behavior – I would have to say NO – absolutely not.
He hasn’t done any homework, studied any algebra, worked with his tutor, or even cracked a book since the new quarter began.
As a result, he has two failing grades in science class. He failed a quiz miserably, and then got a failing grade on a writing assignment, which he doesn’t remember writing. But he got an A on his lab so, oddly, he already has a B as a cumulative grade.
Shane – who is graded in a particularly unorthodox fashion, thanks to a ridiculous new curriculum – got one I, two ES’s and all the rest P’s. There are about a hundred million P’s. Since Shane’s report card makes no sense to anyone, I can translate: Shane got straight A’s, except for two A+++’s and a B (in art).
I looked over the report cards, studied them for some sign that these pieces of paper indicated Dylan or Shane. But they didn’t. They were just letters on a piece of paper.
There were no cute comments about the funny things they said in class, or what subjects they enjoyed the most, or how happy they seemed. Just letters on a piece of paper.
And these letters will determine their future.
But only if we allow that.
I hung them on the refrigerator anyway.