I think that most scandals are touched off with some tiny slip-up. Some action or phrase that could have been easily contained, but for whatever reason was not and the avalanche was triggered. In Watergate for example, a whole mess of trouble could have been avoided by simply being more careful with flashlights.
In section 6B it was a smile.
Johnson Nelson (names have been changed to protect the innocent — namely me from ticked off parents) is the coolest kid in sixth grade. He is the trend-setter and the best basketball player in the school. He started wearing one of his sleeves rolled up and within days everyone was doing it. He oiled his hair one morning and then the next day the tiny store across the street sold more coconut oil than candy for the first time in its history.
On top of all of this, Johnson is one of the smartest kids in sixth grade too. This can be a dangerous combination because not only does he know that he can get away with anything socially, he can also barely work in class and still outscore everyone.
Usually, to his credit, Johnson is a very good kid. One of my favorites. He likes to laugh and joke with me and most of the time, he will humor me and my remedial assignments. I was always glad to have the popular kid in school on my side.
Kids listen to me because if they don’t I will send them outside or quietly wait them out. Kids listen to Johnson because, well, he is Johnson.
Saying no to Johnson as a sixth grader at Rita Elementary School is akin to telling Michael Jordan that while you are flattered by his offer of court-side seats to the NBA finals you would rather not go.
However, since returning from winter break, there was something different about Johnson. He was not entirely sold on me being the “cool teacher” anymore and like an actor who peaked at how the script ends, he suddenly seemed to know that whether I gave him a 100 percent on the next essay or a zero, the impact on him later in life would be minimal. He came from a well-connected family, already was far ahead of his classmates and 20 years from now he would have a comfortable life regardless of me.
Well, I would have noticed nothing out of the ordinary if it was not for Johnson’s sparkling smile. I was collecting their essays on winter break. When I collected Johnson’s essay he flashed me his effortless smile — it made me look twice over his paper.
It wasn’t his paper at all. His friend Theo had written the whole thing for him (like I said, when Johnson asks you to do something, if you are a sixth-grader, you just do it). I compared the false paper with the one that Theo was turning in just to be sure— the same handwriting, Johnson had cheated.
This discovery made me examine all of the other papers with the scrutiny of a post 9-11 airport. There were other forgeries. I found two other of Johnson’s friends with papers written by someone else.
And it was all tipped off by a little smile.
I wish I could say it is all better now. I wish I could tell you that all of the kids involved had learned a lesson, but you’ll have to wait on that because I am not entirely sure.
I had a big talk with Johnson, all about how he was the coolest, smartest kid in class and he needed to be a good example. He cried and I felt horrible.
If only I had never seen that smile.
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