Years ago, I raised a teenager. My partner and I took him in when he was 14, and he was – to say the least– not the teachers' favorite at school.

I got used to the school calling, sometimes several times a week. Disciplinary problems. Fighting problems. Not doing his school work problems.

And I did my best to be engaged and help to get him back on track. I was afraid my best wasn’t enough, and I wasn’t very happy with his progress by the end of the school year. But he and I were both trying.

I expected his teacher didn’t like me very much, probably judged me. But when I met with him at the end of the year, he thanked me. For being Brent’s advocate and for being involved.

“I wish all my kids' parents did as much as you do,” he said.

I think that teacher knows what you know.

Written by

Writer. Runner. Marine. Airman. Former LGBTQ and HIV activist. Former ActUpNY and Queer Nation. Polyglot. Middle-aged, uppity faggot. jamesfinnwrites@gmail.com

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