(For previous stories about Stephane, look here, here, and here.)

Stephane, the most troubled and troublesome of my students, was causing problems again. Not sure what to do, I sent the following note to the coordinator of his program.

Hi B. I wanted to let you know that Stephane has, as of today, missed four classes in a row, including a test. I emailed him on Tuesday, asking him to come see me, but he hasn’t opened the message. His overall course grade is fine at the moment, but won’t be if this continues. I’m not sure what else I can do; do you have any suggestions? Siobhan.

B returned this reply.

Hi Siobhan. I spoke to Stephane this week. His situation, at the moment, is defined by the need to complete three assignments that are to be sent abroad for moderation and so cannot be delayed. He is giving priority to these assignments right now. Unfortunately, it means that he is paying less attention to other courses. Clearly, he should not be missing classes, and certainly not tests, but his situation is simply not easy to manage at the moment.

In addition, he mentioned to me that his medication makes him drowsy and, therefore, less productive in his academic work. He has to increase his dosage when he feels stressed and his lack of productivity stresses him and so it goes.

Stephane does not tend to answer my e-mail messages either.

Based on the meeting I had with him, he is aware of the precarious position he is in. I believe he is doing his best. If he is giving in to unnecessary distractions at this point in the semester, then he will have no one to blame but himself.

All I can suggest is to perhaps maintain any flexibility that you can in his case (without compromising on your pedagogical principles) and hope that he assumes the responsibility so that the semester and the diploma are not forsaken.

I hope this helps. I am at the office this afternoon if you would like to chat.

Best, B.

I ran into B on my way to the metro that afternoon. He asked if I’d received his message. We walked a little way together and discussed the problem.

“It’s easy to get irritated with him,” I said, “because frankly, he’s a pain in the ass. But the fact is, when people are depressed, they’re often unpleasant to be around.”

B grimaced. “Truth be told, he was pretty unpleasant even when he was well.”

“How do we know he was well?”

He nodded. “Fair enough.”

***

The following Tuesday, Stephane appeared in class. He was late, as usual. We were doing a practice “poem commentary,” to prepare for a mock “Paper 1″ exam they would write the following week. For the first fifteen minutes or so after his arrival, Stephane was silent. Then, as we were discussing the significance of the word “Egyptian” in the poem’s title, he blurrily half-raised his hand.

“I don’t think,” he said, “the place where the poem happens has anything to do with anything. It’s a poem about something that could happen anywhere.” His voice rose a little. “The setting isn’t relevant.”

I crossed my arms. “The poem is certainly dealing with an event that most people will recognize, regardless of context. Is this what you mean?”

“Yes.”

We moved on. We began to discuss the possible themes of the poem, which revolves around a beautiful woman being circled by men in a public garden. I asked if there were any tensions or problematic lines, images or ideas that might be contradictory. Stephane once again interjected. “It’s about how beautiful women are cold and heartless,” he said.

Anny, who sits in front of him – and who is remarkably, unpretentiously good-looking – turned her head toward him. “It’s not saying all beautiful women are that way.”

He retorted, in French, “Have you ever met a truly beautiful woman that was kind?”

“Yes.”

“It’s very rare.” His voice was growing louder again.

“It’s not just women,” Anny replied, also in French.

“All right,” I said, “let’s move on.”

He talked over me, his glare fixed on Anny. “So what if it applies to both sexes? It’s the same principle.”

I finally raised my voice. “All RIGHT. Please focus your attention on the question. Are there other PROBLEMS that present themselves in interpreting this poem?”

“I’m DISCUSSING a problem, with Anny…” Stephane retorted.

“I would like you to focus on problems that present themselves IN THE TEXT, please.”

The other two students sighed. Stephane settled back in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest. Anny looked at her neighbour and rolled her eyes.

Zahra offered, “What about the line at the beginning, where he talks about the men’s ‘cruel wish’? Why is their wish ‘cruel’?”

“It’s cruel for them,” Ramona suggested, “because she’s not giving them what they want.”

“Or maybe,” Zahra said, “we’re supposed to think that their thoughts about her are…not very nice.”

Stephane snapped, “Unless this guy’s some sort of 1940s feminist, I highly doubt that he’s assuming that all these guys are having cruel thoughts about this woman.”

As mildly as I could, I said, “We see no evidence in the poem to support or contradict either of those interpretations. The poet is clearly leaving it open to us.”

“I think it would be WRONG to interpret it that way,” Stephane said.

“ALL RIGHT.” I placed both hands flat on my desk and lowered my brows. The other three students grinned while Stephane seemed to recoil a bit. “The purpose of writing a commentary is to present a PERSONAL INTERPRETATION supported by EVIDENCE FROM THE TEXT. If you feel strongly that the poet is describing a ‘wish’ that is ‘cruel’ because it harms the wisher, then you are entitled to explore that interpretation. If you feel instead that cruelty is directed toward others, you should explore that possibility. But if you approach the poem with the attitude that your first, impulsive reactions are the only possible and correct ones, then you are DEFEATING THE PURPOSE OF THIS EXERCISE. The exam graders are looking for a flexible and responsive approach to the poem. If you fail to take that approach, you are cutting yourself off from the complexity of the poem. You are failing the poem, and limiting yourself.”

That pretty much shut him up for the rest of the class period, and, after we were done, I asked him to stay behind. I waited until the girls had trickled out, and took a deep breath. “All right, my friend.”

He burst out laughing. I frowned, and he stopped. “It’s just that I haven’t heard that expression for a while,” he said.

“Well, honestly, there might be a reason for that,” I said, before I could stop myself. I stood in front of his desk, looked him in the eye, and said, “You’ve missed two weeks of classes. Is there anything I should know about why you’ve missed so much class time, why you always come to class late, etc.?”

Without an audience, he was much more subdued. “Well.” He paused. “Maybe you’ve heard that…I was out for a year because I was sick.” I nodded. “Well, it’s … because of that, basically.”

I nodded. Then I outlined for him, gently, the possible consequences of having missed so much work, the limitations on my ability to make concessions, etc. And I finally said, “And I would like it if you’d let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you with this, or even if you’d just let me know, if you’re away for extended periods, what that’s about, so I don’t have to be concerned. It may be more for my benefit then yours, but it would be helpful.”

He nodded slowly, looking uncertain. “Sure.”

“And then,” I leaned forward again, “I’d also like to discuss your conduct when you ARE in class. I appreciate your…participation…” He laughed again, more quietly this time, a bit self-consciously. “I’m serious. At the beginning of the semester, I was concerned that you wouldn’t participate at all. I’m glad that’s turned out not to be the case. But I am struck by the fact that your attitude is extremely…contrarian.”

He grinned wryly. “Yeah. I can be like that sometimes.”

“I think a certain amount of that is natural,” I said. “Natural in the sense that when we’re not feeling good, our…tendency…is to be difficult, to act out the unpleasant feeling we’re having.”

The grin faded away. He looked nonplussed, almost afraid. It was as if he hadn’t been spoken to like this before.

“But I’d like you to take some time to think about the effect of that approach. You’re shutting down conversations. You’re taking our discussions off-track. And I have to waste a lot of energy and class time trying to deal with your aggression.”

He lowered his eyes.

“I think you’re fully capable of engaging with the class and the material in ways that are productive, stimulating, and positive. Instead, you’re picking on people, making surly comments and bringing a negative and unpleasant atmosphere into the room. I’d like you to consider whether that’s really what you’re after.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” He didn’t meet my eyes. His expression was inward-turned, as though he didn’t quite recognize whatever response he was having.

“Well, all right.” I began packing up my books. “And in the meantime, again, let me know if I can do anything to help you with that.”

He began gathering up his things as well. “It goes in stages,” he said. “I’ve resolved a lot of school stuff lately, and things should go better between now and the end of term.”

“I hope so. Have you applied to university?”

“Flight school, actually.”

This gave me pause. “Really.”

“Yeah. In Chicoutimi. I should hear back in a few days.”

As we walked toward the stairwell, I asked him some questions about this. Interesting, I thought. This is a program that can be done straight out of high school – he doesn’t need his CEGEP diploma to apply. And in a strange way, it seemed to fit: something partly physical, something that requires intelligence but not necessarily a long-term academic bent…

“Commercial?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

And then I thought…

There’s no way I want this kid flying my plane.

And then I thought… what if he doesn’t get in to flight school? Would they take someone as obviously erratic as he? Has he applied to any universities? What will happen in my classroom if he gets a rejection letter next week?

But by that time, he had waved, in an almost friendly way, and was gone.