Last week we had a conference with a student and his parents and discovered that this particular eleven-year-old does not have an easy time accepting responsibility for his missteps either at home or at school. We talked at length about how it is okay to make mistakes and that most people actually learn from their errors if they can admit them. He nodded along with us, and hope springs eternal.
Today, he did not follow the directions I gave at the beginning of class and was unprepared when I came around to check. "How did that happen?" I asked.
What he was prepared with was a litany of excuses. "I was late," he started. "I missed that part."
"No you didn't," said the helpful student next to him.
"Oh," he said, "Well, I was sharpening my pencil."
"No you weren't," said the other kid. "You don't even have a pencil."
"I was writing down my homework?"
"Nope."
At last I intervened. "We do the same thing every Monday," I started.
He looked directly at me; the eye contact was stunning. He sighed.
"My bad," he said.
"That's okay," I told him. "You'll do better next week."
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