The Graduates

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Steve

Steven was the first student I ever sent to the office. He was also the second and, most likely, the third. On the first day of class, he gave me the wrong name. For his independent reading project, he gave a report on The Odyssey, the book we'd just finished in class. For about a month, he seemed to conclude every statement with, "Can you jiggy wit it?" I had students far more troubled, far more menacing. But unlike so many of them, Steven actually attended class. He was there every day, talking across the room, bouncing his leg in his seat, sweaty and aggressive from football.

"I'm just playin'," he would tell me after some particularly ripe comment. And when I punished him for it: "Aww, Miss. You be playah-hatin'."

"I can't help it," I would joke. "I hate the players."

At the beginning of the year, Steven was a constant source of anxiety and frustration. By the end, I found him hilarious. "I enjoy being the first person you ever wrote up," he wrote in my yearbook. "But remember there's only one me, so cherish your picture of me."

"When I was a freshman, I was like a problem-maker," he says now. "A class clown. As the years went on, I learned when to talk and when not to, know what I'm saying? But my freshman year was my best year in high school. After that, it just started getting boring." Classes became harder. Junior year, he failed algebra and chemistry. "I'm a good kid," he says. "I just like to talk. I like the teachers that know that you can't just sit all day and be quiet and learn." When I ask what he would do with a problem student, he finally says, "Man, I couldn't be a teacher. I would snap on somebody. That's probably the hardest job in the world. I can't tell you what I'd do. For real."

In his senior year, Steven got busted for smoking pot. "I was just trippin'," he says. "I was just being dumb." He was sent for six weeks to OC, the "Opportunity Center," a separate school for discipline cases. Another disappointment was a football injury that kept him sidelined for part of the season. "I've always liked football," he says, "ever since I was young." He remembers watching games with his dad, who died of a heart attack in '96. "My favorite team was San Francisco. Jerry Rice. Cold. I always wanted to be like him. That's why I played wide receiver."

One thing that hasn't changed since freshman year is his girlfriend, Bianca. "She's my number one," he says. But next year, they will have to separate -- Steven will probably attend ACC, and Bianca is still choosing between college track programs. "We been through a lot," he says. "A whole lot. She's probably most important to me. And graduating. I've waited my whole life for this. When they actually hand me my diploma, man, that's gonna make me wanna cry. I'm gonna be happy. For real."