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Blog Entry 16 of 30 Life Lessons Learned from Students

Hi, I'm Jerry. I live in the Pinery in Parker. I traveled to Columbia Middle School in Aurora for many years where I taught 7th and 8th grade language arts. Over time, I realized that students had just as much to teach me about life as I had to teach them about reading, writing, and literature. After I retired in June, 2005, I began writing this collection. I am currently on the seventh story, but plan on having about twenty stories in the finished collection.

Blog Url: http://denver.yourhub.com/~JerryLaPre

No Justice for Opus

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Contributed by: Jerry LaPre on 4/28/2008

This story resumes my teaching career in 1985-86. The cartoon character of Opus was instrumental in a unique learning experience.

No Justice for Opus

All teachers have classes that are remembered long after the students walk out the door on the last day of school. My first such group of students was the classes I had during the 1985-1986 school year.

I'd spent the first three years at Columbia Middle School refining my disciplinary skills and learning the craft of being a language arts teacher. I'd always been an avid reader, a skill modeled to me by both of my parents, but soon found out that it took more than an appreciation of literature to be able to teach it.

After a bumpy two years, I started hitting my stride in my third year. By the time my fourth year at Columbia began, I was raring to go. From the very beginning of the year, it was obvious that these students had a thirst for learning that always makes a teacher's job easier.

Our class discussions always centered around literature, not the pitfalls of adolescence. This fact alone made the classes run more smoothly. If a student was drifting away from the topic at hand, a sharp rebuke from a classmate always set the erring student straight. At first I was amazed when this happened, but I grew to appreciate it more and more as the year wore on. Eventually, this self-monitoring took on a life of its own, and finally it evolved into an expectation.

That year I also became a head boys' basketball coach for the first time. I taught eighth grade, but was the coach for the seventh grade team. I noticed this same concept at work on the basketball court and in the locker room that I also witnessed in my classes, especially when one of my seventh grade players did something the older players deemed inappropriate.

"That's not the way we do things here," a player named Steve said to one of my players after he pulled someone's shorts down as a prank in the locker room.

Sam hung his head and mumbled, "Okay" and never did anything remotely inappropriate again. I was impressed with this group's maturity and selflessness.

As Christmas approached, I received the usual assortment of nuts and candies, which always amused me because I'm a diabetic. One student came up to me after school and laid a stuffed animal on my desk.

"Here," she said, "Merry Christmas."

Staring up at me was the forlorn visage of Opus, one of the characters from my favorite comic strip at the time, Bloom County. I frequently referred to it in class, and my students knew Opus was my favorite character.

Winter passed into spring and Opus sat on my desk undisturbed. One day in April, I noticed he was no longer in his usual roost. I made preliminary inquiries as to Opus' whereabouts, but everyone was mum. All students I queried claimed not to know who purloined the penguin. I was amused, but pressed the matter no further.

As I was getting ready to leave at the end of the day soon after the kidnapping, I spotted a ransom note on my desk. Intrigued, I read on: Mr. LaPre', if you ever hope to see Opus again, you will meet out demands.

One day after school, one of my teaching teammates, Carla came into my room, and asked, "How would you like to turn this escapade into a learning experience?"

"I'm all ears," I said. I was always receptive to Carla's ideas.

"You know, I spent a whole quarter teaching students the Constitution." Carla taught social studies to our 120 students.

"I remember," I said, "At first, kids complained about how it dragged on, but, by the time it was over, they all said they really understood the Constitution."

"Well," Carla said, "let's give them a chance to prove it."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, putting my pen down and giving her my full attention.

"Do you have any suspects?"

"Several," I replied drolly, and also told her about the ransom note.

"Then let's put them on trial. We'll have the students fill out applications to be prosecutors, defense attorneys, police investigators, court officers, and jury members."

"What about a judge?" I asked.

"I think you should be the judge."

I replied, "I'm too emotionally involved. It would be like asking Charles Lindbergh to be the judge at Bruno Hauptman's trial. Why don't you be the judge?"

"Yeah, right," Carla replied sarcastically. "On second thought, I do know the Constitution better than anyone else."

"You'd be perfect," I agreed.

"Okay, I'll do it."<

The next day, we distributed forms for students to apply for the various positions we had outlined. The remainder of the students would observe as court spectators, although a few would be called as witnesses.

We gave students the rest of the week to prepare for their roles. The trial was set to begin on Friday morning. Our two other teaching teammates, Marcia and Sandi, graciously agreed to skip their regular classes so the trial could take place without interruption. The trial took place in the morning, while the afternoon was reserved for jury deliberation and presentation of the verdict.

The big day finally arrived. Marcia, Sandi, and I sat in the gallery while Carla presided over the proceedings. The student attorneys approached the bench.

"Are you two ready to begin?" Carla asked David, attorney for the prosecution, and Tracy, who represented the defendants.

"We are, your Honor," David said respectfully. Tracy nodded and they both returned to their seats.

"Counsel will present their opening arguments," Carla intoned officiously. "David, please present the prosecution's case."

David proceeded to outline his case very thoroughly. He claimed that he had several eyewitnesses who could confirm the two suspects were indeed guilty. They both belonged to the group of students Carla and I referred to as The Ten Per centers. This referred to their paltry grade point average. They turned in so little work that their averages always hovered in the nether regions on the per cent scale.

In addition to the eyewitnesses, David said he had a note that Marcia had intercepted in which the two suspects purportedly admitted to the heinous crime.

"This will be interesting," I said leaning over to Marcia, "to see how Jason and Luke weasel out of this one."

>"I'm sure they'll have an inventive alibi," Marcia whispered.

"No doubt," I concurred.

Jason and Luke didn't put much effort in their schoolwork, but were both very creative. I was looking forward to see how they would refute the evidence.

When Tracy presented her opening arguments, it was an impassioned plea questioning the motives of the prosecutor, David.

"I will present both witnesses and evidence," Tracy began confidently, "which will show that David, in fact, is the guilty party, and his acting as prosecutor is just a cover up for his own involvement."

A buzz traveled through the gallery, and Carla pounded her gavel forcefully, firmly saying, "Order in the court!"

This'll be good, I thought to myself.

Carla ran a tight ship, and made both sides follow the rules she set down for questioning witnesses and cross-examination. I watched several students taking notes for an extra-credit assignment Carla had given them. The amount of learning that was taking place was impressive.

One witness corroborated that David had confided in her that he had orchestrated the entire plot. Jason and Luke were just following David's plan. Tracy and David were both in the school's Gifted and Talented Program and were brilliant. Whenever it looked like a witness or some evidence would nail down guilt, the other side would skillfully navigate through the trap.

It went back and forth like this all morning. Finally, Carla struck her gavel and called for closing arguments. After David and Tracy finished, Carla said, "Court is adjourned for one hour."

The students filed out heading for the lunch room discussing the merits of both sides. The four of us met in the teachers' lounge giving our opinion of the proceedings.

"That was brilliant, Carla," Sandi said as we sat down. "What do you think the verdict is going to be?"

"I honestly don't know what the jury will decide," Carla said.

When the proceedings resumed after lunch, the gallery was seated for a full ten minutes before the jury returned. After they were seated, Carla turned to the foreman and said, "Darren, have you reached a verdict?"

"No, your Honor, we haven't," Darren said, obviously distraught at the jury's failure to reach a verdict.

After the buzz from the crowd died down, Carla said, "So the jury is hung then? What was the basis of your disagreement?"

Darren said, "We couldn't agree on Louis' testimony as a handwriting expert," referring to a student who analyzed the handwriting on the ransom note. "We argued over whether or not Louis' mother being a handwriting expert qualified him for that position. Six voted guilty and six not guilty. No one changed their vote during deliberations. I'm afraid we could meet for the rest of the school year and still remain hung."

"I see," Carla said, "then I'm left with no choice. Due to lack of agreement, this jury is officially declared hung. Charges are dismissed!"

Jason and Luke pumped their fists triumphantly in the air, and hugged Tracy. By contrast, David slumped at his table, defeated and distraught.

The real perpetrators were never brought to justice, but this simulation taught me that there are many non-traditional ways to teach students valuable lessons. Reading history, literature, or science and then writing a response to what is read is one way to do this, but not the only way. In future years we engaged in field trips, archaeological digs, Civil War reenactments, and many more methods of educating students. It was strategy I used repeatedly over the next nineteen years.

Opus sat on my desk unmolested for the last few weeks of that school year, but when summer came, I brought him home for fear there might be more trouble in the future. Opus sits on a bookshelf in my house passing the time in peace.

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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Jerry LaPre

Parker , CO

Jerry LaPre has posted 30 blog entries and 1 comment since joining on 5/31/2007. Jerry LaPre 's average blog rating is 5.

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