Pre-K

by L. Saqiid

Lydia never thought she would see the day a 5-year-old would be suspended from school for punching his teacher in the stomach, but it had arrived. She couldn't even figure out what exactly went wrong. It was a week before Thanksgiving and the children were working on their art assignment, making turkeys out of construction paper in participation to raise money for a local food drive, when Julian, one of five boys in the class that often test her limits, became dissatisfied with his project and decided to rip it to pieces. "Julian, what is the problem?" she asked. "I hate turkeys. This is dumb," he shouted. "Please lower your voice," she said. Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She kneeled beside his desk and studied the frustration in his angry face. "Why do you hate turkeys?" she asked. "Cause their stupid," he said, "Just like you … STUPID!"

A few of the children in the class snickered, while others watched intensely. "Okay Julian, your insults are not necessary," Lydia was careful to keep her voice calm. Any signs that she was shaken in any way by this outburst could result in disaster. This is her first teaching job. She came to this school straight out of college. She was aware of its troubled reputation, being one of the 109 schools in 1996 placed on probation in the City of Chicago because the children's test scores were so low. And, though it had recently been lifted, the faculty knew they were barely inching by. Eighty percent of the children in this school are from broken homes. A vast majority of them have behavioral problems that requires them to undergo weekly group counseling.

"Would you care to spend sometime in the principal's office until you can get yourself under control?" Lydia asked. "I'm not going to the principal's office and you can't make me," he spewed.

"Okay, young man, let's go," she motioned for him to leave, but he just sat at his desk glaring at her. "Did you hear me, I said let's go … NOW!" she said in a more forceful tone. Julian stood up and walked toward his teacher. "Did you hear me? I said, I'm not going to the principal's office," he repeated then followed with a fist, which landed right in her stomach. She doubled over in pain, blood slowly rising up through her esophagus, spilling into her mouth. Julian was only five, but he was large for his age- a tall, stocky kid who'd probably seen more violence in his short lifetime than she had in her 25 years. There was so much anger bottled up inside of him. His outrageous temper was at the ready in any given moment. Would it have made a difference if he knew that she was nine weeks pregnant? One would like to think so, but what difference did it make now. He doesn't know, no one does, not even her husband.


* This short was inspired by a true incident. Names have been changed to keep identities private.