Text 3A

Topic 1.2

CARER, KEEPER…

CLASS 1

1. Watch an episode from a movie based on a real biography of a distinguished teacher. The movie title is Gridiron Gang. Watch and say what the main aim of the coach’s talk is. Does he mean just to install discipline or something more than that?

2. List the qualities needed by a teacher who would like to establish rapport and understanding with his/her students.

3. Work in pairs. Discuss the term ‘children with special needs’. What kind of needs are those?

4. Read the title of the excerpt below. Suggest ideas on what the title might mean and what kind of character the novel might describe.

5. Read the excerpt and pay special attention to the description of the boy’s behavior. Make a list of details that strike you most.

Text 3A

From SILENT BOY by Torey Hayden

We were coloring. Kevin had a thing about coloring, and I didn't mind it because it was relaxing and it was the mindless sort of activity I found best for allowing us to talk without its being apparent that was what we were doing.

I had brought us one of those huge posters from the discount store which one colors in with felt-tipped markers.This poster depicted a spaceship out among the stars.

Kevin was coloring the crew at the window of the rocket and I was doing the sky because it was large and boring to color, so Kevin didn't like it. I was not especially enamored of it myself.

'You know,' I said after what seemed like an inter­minable amount of coloring, ‘I'm not so keen on doing this either. I wish I had a broad-tipped marker instead of this one.'

'Well,' replied Kevin matter-of-factly, 'you have to do it.'

'We could split it,' I suggested, looking at all that was left.

There was a long, long silence as Kevin stared at the poster. I saw his knuckles go white as he gripped the pen harder. His breathing tightened. They were the same old signs, and I glanced around the room quickly to see what could possibly be frightening him.

'No, you have to do it,' Kevin said. His voice was low. The muscles along his jaw tensed.

I stared at him because I could see his fear coming up on him but I didn't know what was causing it. Then I looked back at the poster, thinking perhaps I could distract him from the fear.

'Why don't we just leave it blank? There's too much coloring. I could do the stars instead and outline them in black. Then they'd stand out good.'

'No,' he said very quietly.

I looked at him. He looked squarely back at me. Fear had dilated his pupils but there was an intensity behind them that I did not recognize.

'What's going on, Kevin? What's wrong?'

'You have to do it. You have to color that sky.'

'Why?'

He began to tremble. His whole body arched away from me slightly. 'You have to do it.' I watched him.

His voice was only a whisper. 'You have to. Because I've told you to, do you hear?'

I shifted positions. I'd been sitting on my feet and the circulation was going, so I moved them.

'Awk!' Kevin screamed when I did. His marker flew out of his hand. Abruptly, he dived for the safety of the table.

'Kev?'

'I didn't mean it!' he shrieked and covered his head, as he rolled into a ball. 'I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it. You don't have to!'

Stunned, I only gaped at him.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it!' He was in tears already, rocking and sobbing. 'Please, please, please, I didn't mean it. Honest I didn't. Please. I'm sorry.'

'Kevin, I don't mind. It's not that big a deal. Don't be frightened. I'm not angry. You want me to do the sky? I don't mind. I'll do the sky. Okay?'

'Please, please, please, please, please,' he begged. 'Oh please don't think I meant it. I didn't. Please, I'm sorry.'

'Kevin?'

He was beside himself, rocking and weeping, crying for me to forget and absolve him. I was too astonished at having caused such a furor to really think about what was going on. On my hands and knees I crawled across the carpet to try and talk him down from his hysteria. WHAM!

Leaping to his feet when I approached, he threw the table off over his back. 'Get away from me!' he shouted. His face grew red, terror glazed his eyes. 'Get away! Get away!'

Before I could gather my senses, he had picked up one of the chairs. He hurled it at me with keen precision and it didn't really miss. Painfully, I staggered to my feet.

The room was too small for Kevin to be able to elude me to his satisfaction, and clearly it was I who terrified him. He reacted to me as if I were the Devil Incarnate.

Because the room was so small and he could not get away from me, Kevin felt obliged to keep me at bay by throwing things at me. He needn't have. I was quite suf­ficiently panic-stricken myself and was perfectly willing to stay out of his way. This frightened, I knew he was dangerous. And looming up to his nearly six-foot height, he made an awesome sight when he held a chair aloft.

6. In pairs now, share ideas on how the situation will unfold. Do you think Kevin will calm down as suddenly as he exploded? Will the teacher succeed in controlling him?

7. Finish reading the excerpt and say if your predictions were correct.

From SILENT BOY by Torey Hayden (continued)

There wasn't much for me to do. I ducked. A lot. Kevin threw anything and everything he could get his hands on. Chairs, pens, the poster, my box, its contents, even the table. His terror gave him improbable strength. And I, like a circus performer, jumped and ducked and dodged. The most painful things turned out to be the numerous small wooden blocks I had had in my box. They were two-inch square colored counting cubes with surprisingly sharp edges, and Kevin fired them like mis­siles.

Frantically I looked around for a call button or some other method of summoning help. There was none. I did have a key to the door, which the stupid aide persisted in locking. Still, with Kevin in this state, I did not want to chance turning my back on him for long, especially in front of an exit. But what else to do? Through my mind whirred all the alternatives I could think of. Would I be able to talk him down from this? Would he wear himself out before he splattered me? Should I just keep dodging and hope my strength held out longer than his? I don't think he was dead serious on really hurting me. All he wanted was to keep me away from him. But that made him plenty dangerous. Every move I made was inter­preted as an attack and provoked another frenzy of panic and missiles. But it was a vicious cycle. When I moved, he threw things. When he threw things, I had to move again to avoid being hit.

Around and around and around we went. He was screaming now, ripping at his clothes and throwing him­self against the walls in an attempt to escape me. When he came to the door, he jerked at it violently, but of course it was locked.

In the end, I confined myself to the two bare walls and stayed away from the windows and the door so that he would not think I was blocking any exits from him. I held a wooden chair in one hand and fended off what he threw the best I could. He began to scream when I kept the chair in hand because I think he thought I was plan­ning to attack him with it. He screamed and screamed and screamed.

That did the trick. They heard us. Within moments a crowd of faces pressed against the small door window, frightening Kevin even further. Next came the frantic rattling of a key in the lock. Kevin tried to run from the door and fell face forward over the table. His hysteria mounted as he scrambled to his feet and threw himself against the windows.

The door burst open. People spilled in. Relieved to be rescued, I slumped back against the far wall and slid down to the floor. They swarmed over Kevin and tried to pull him from the window. He shrieked louder and fought like a wounded tiger. The Marines were there and they had his legs and his pants. They pulled his shoes off as they tugged him down from the sill. I heard the sound of cloth tearing as they struggled to lift him. There were six of them this time, six big burly men with tattooed arms and Charles Atlas muscles rippling under their shirts. Still they could not maneuver Kevin. They got him down from the windows but now he was on the floor, wiggling and squirming. Kevin escaped their grasp and, like a caged bird, battered himself against the window again. Two more men came and then a nurse. Dana was there too. So was the psychologist and two people in business suits whom I did not recognize. I stayed away from them all, clear over to the far side because I was still afraid I would only add fuel to Kevins delirium, if I approached. In the end, it took nine men to defeat that one cornstalk of a boy and bear him out. All the way down the corridor

I could hear him screaming, the pitch of it high and hys­terical.

Dana came over to me, righting chairs and the table as she came. Of all the people in the room, she was the only one to come to me in the aftermath of the commo­tion. I was rolling up the sleeve of my shirt to look at my arm.

All of me hurt. There was no point in denying that. Now that Kevin had been borne away, I was feeling sorely in need of a little comfort myself.

The chair had hit my arm, and already a red-and-pur-ple bruise stretched out along the upper half. Dana touched it gently.

'They'll have a doctor in for Kevin,' she said. 'You ought to have him look at that before he goes. Does it hurt?'

I nodded. 'You've got a scratch on your nose too.' She fingered it and then refocused her gaze on me. 'What happened?'

'I wish I knew for sure. I don't.'

'He just went off?'

I shrugged.

8. In small groups, discuss the last phrase of the excerpt, I shrugged. Choose the statement that you think suggests the teacher’s attitude to Kevin.

A. The teacher doesn’t seem to care about the boy.

B. The teacher is not competent enough to comprehend the reason.

C. The teacher is ready to give up on the child.

D. The teacher wishes to forget the unpleasant incident.

E. The teacher prefers not to talk about it for a while.

F. _____________________________ (your explanation)

9. In small groups, discuss the problem of whether the author sympathizes with the boy. Find proof in the above text to make your point, loud and clear.

10. In small groups, talk about the situation as if it was YOU in that room. What sort of reaction would yours be, under the circumstances?