A former student of mine was shot to death in Toronto this week*. I’m not sure how else to start this. In addition to his name, the information on the internet had him listed as #9/2022. The ninth homicide of the year 2022. That’s it. I couldn’t find much more — other than a few references to a drug arrest made in northern Ontario last summer. He had no social media that I could find and very few colleagues even remembered him when I asked.
As a student, he was a pain in the butt, I can tell you. He didn’t have many of the skills that you hope a 14-year-old will, when entering high school. He was often rude, stubborn, obstinate and unpredictable. He refused to follow simple classroom rules and exhibited anger at every turn. He was ready for a fight — every time he entered my drama studio classroom. Interacting with him was difficult on the best of days and I confess I found myself feeling a sense of relief when he didn’t show at all.
I don’t think I fully understood the family dynamic that caused him to be in and out of our school. I do know, however, that he was at our school for the beginning of both his grade 9 and grade 10 years. When he was registered with us, his attendance was dismal. He never completed a semester and I had no completed assignments to transfer on for full assessment. He careened through our halls with a chip on his shoulder that could be seen a mile away. It seemed that he was destined to fail in a formal school setting and his complicated family situation made it difficult to connect him to any municipal services. He was lost in the cracks that exist when a child is bounced between cities.
He was also a functionally illiterate individual. He could function in society but struggled with the skills needed for ‘decoding’ when reading and ‘constructing’ when writing. That’s probably why he ended up in drama…both times. He had no interest in the subject, but guidance had to put him ‘somewhere’, as I too often heard in our small school. And, knowing he was being dumped there, I’m sure he resented the placement.
As a drama teacher, I knew that there was a lot of pain behind all the outbursts and tense moments that were exhausting for us both. He didn’t trust me, the school, or believe that he was a member of our community. He didn’t feel connected or valued. Instead, he remained as an outsider, constantly looking for an angle or a shortcut. It appeared that he wanted to find some way to get ahead, or get something from, our school but didn’t have the skills or supports to do so.
So, why am I writing this?
Because he mattered. Because, in some ways, I feel we failed him. I’m not sure how many times I marched down to the office with a complaint about him — but it was many. Not because I was angry but because I was concerned. Because I was looking for an appropriate avenue for him. Because, he was toggling between two homes and they weren’t in the same city.
That meant that he could only be placed or counted in one school at a time. If he didn’t show up, a call home would confirm that he was at the other residence. And, we didn’t have any idea about a return date. It takes quite an effort to move from one school board to another. As it was for him, teens who do not see consistent communication between the caring adults in their lives are left to find their own way — and they will — find those connections that are integral to social and mental health, positive or negative.
Teachers are often thought to be the first to know when things are going wrong with a kid, but we are more often the last. We are offered so little information about kids due to privacy. What we glean comes from the kid himself or the intuition that a teacher develops along the way. We are warned to stay away from ‘situations’ and to pass those concerns on to the professionals whose focus it is to guide students.
I feel however, that the damage done by the school systems that are meant to protect students, is continually exacerbated by parameters set to keep teachers out of the way. We have been told to stay in our lane for so long now that ‘helping’ a kid with anything but an assignment is considered suspect.
And that’s the point. If this is a compassion career — as it is often called — then more robust training needs to happen from the moment a teacher candidate enters the system. I fully comprehend that there are those who should not be working with any member of the vulnerable sector, that there are meddlers and those with poor boundaries. But, there are in every profession. In the service of young people, we must train for good boundaries, consultations, avenues of support, understanding and assisting in the work of non-teaching colleagues. This will help everyone.
School is not just about controlling a classroom and delivering a lesson. It’s about feeling the room, adjusting to the ebb and flow of emotions and worries, recognizing those who may need time or support and providing it. And then… maybe then, we can begin to teach a subject.
But for #9/2022, he was never ready to learn with us and what he needed was far outside of any curriculum guide. I’m sure he was loved but he also needed a system of adults, separate from his family, to show him a hopeful path that would not have him end up lifeless in a parking lot at the young age of 19.
*The murder happened on January 22, 2022 and this was written shortly thereafter.
As a follow-up to the events, 4 teenagers between 14–19 have since been arrested and are facing various charges including: 1st degree murder, firearms charges, accessory after the fact, drug possession, and drug trafficking. It currently appears that it was an ambush in a parking lot.
