They Love You, They Hate You, They Steal Your Laptop...

Today was just one of those days. I even said that to Dave this morning when Amelia, who is cutting her 1-year molars, woke up screaming at 4am. I said, "Today's going to be one of those days." I didn't know how right I was.

I could make a laundry list of all the little things that went wrong from the moment I woke up, but I have now forgotten what they are. It doesn't even matter anymore. I don't think those little things ever mattered, really. They were minor inconveniences; annoyances that continually distract me from the meat and potatoes of daily life. And they pale in comparison to what happened later.

3rd period, a group of boistrous and lively 9th graders, is a class I look forward to. I would venture to say that they are my favorite class. Besides the typical issues of excessive talking, trying to listen to their i-pod on the sly and general homework apathy, they are a fun group of kids who ask great questions and make me look good when I have principal observations. But today as they were filing out of the classroom, one of them lifted my school-issued laptop from off my desk and walked away with it.

I didn't see it; I was collecting classwork outside the door, waving good-bye and reminding them to finish A Samurai's Tale before Friday. Within minutes of returning inside, I realized it wasn't there. I searched high and low; in cupboards and under stacks of papers; I even looked in the ten-gallon trash can right outside my classroom. It was gone. On the way down to the office to report my loss, I thought of the three hours of grading that I had done on Sunday afternoon and the final exam on All Quiet on the Western Front that I had prepared for Friday. I could feel a lump pushing its way up my throat when I thought of the semester's worth of documents that I had not yet copied to my flash drive. At that moment, who took it and why didn't cross my mind. I just wanted it back.

By the end of the day, it was in my hands again. School security had printed off my class roster and interrogated one kid at a time until finally, they found my laptop in Frankie's backpack. Walking up to the office after school to find out what had happened, I began to feel sick to my stomach. My hands started to shake. Now that my laptop had been recovered, I began to think about what this meant for Frankie. I knew he had been arrested. According to the Sheriff, he will most likely be charged be with grand theft. He will definitely be expelled. He might even spend some time in Juvenile Hall. Frankie just turned fifteen.

Tomorrow I am going to talk to my 3rd period class about what things cost. My laptop cost $500; Frankie's decision cost him considerably more. The truth is, he probably didn't realize the full consequences of his actions, or maybe he did and he just didn't care. Either way, it rips my heart out. Most likely, I will never see Frankie again. For the rest of the semester, his empty desk will serve as a reminder that most of the time, we create our own obstacles; our poor choices lead to our own challenges and all of these things boil down to the overused, but indisputable truth that what we make of life is up to us.