There have been some reader requests for resolutions to the stories of Stephane, Luba and Marta. (See below for a complete directory of posts on each of these characters.) So now that the semester is winding up, I thought I’d give a brief, perhaps anti-climactic, update on each of these stories.

1. Stephane:
When we first met Stephane, he was cheating. We then saw him missing many classes, and generally seeking negative attention.

After our first real conversation about his tendency to be an argumentative a**hole, Stephane started making a bit more of an effort. He texted his classmates with messages for me if he was going to be late for class. He still made impulsive contrarian comments, but reigned himself in a bit more quickly when he saw my steely-eyed glare. And then, the night before two of his major course assignments were due, he emailed me. “This is just to let you know that I won’t be handing in my papers tomorrow,” he wrote. “But I will be in class. Maybe we can talk then?”

He did show up for class, on time. However, he put his head down on his test and fell asleep. He didn’t write a word.

At the end of the lesson, I suggested that he come see me when his next class was over.

When he arrived in my office, he slumped into the visitors’ chair and sighed.

“So what’s going on?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I was having panic attacks all weekend,” he said. “I couldn’t do any work.”

“I see. So what are you going to do?”

“What am I going to do. I’m going to skip the rest of my classes today, go home to sleep, and then get to work.”

I outlined the accommodations I could make – full late penalty for one part of the assignment, a reduced penalty for the other. “What can I do to help?” I asked.

We ended up spending fifteen or so minutes going over the assignment guidelines and tracking down relevant materials he hadn’t received because of his absences. He asked questions. He bounced some ideas off me. And when he did hand the papers in three days later, they were pretty good.

On the last day of class, we did course evaluations, and he volunteered to take them to the Dean’s office when they were done. And he said, “I’ll be honest with you about one thing I’m going to write. I really, really liked the books we read in this course.”

Hey! I thought. He likes something.

Before they began writing their exams, the IB program held a little celebratory tea for the graduating students. The students said some words about all their teachers (“Ms. Curious, you made us crazy with all your tests and journal entries, but no one could have better prepared us for the IB exams – thank you!”). Although Stephane didn’t speak, he smiled rather self-consciously through the whole process. I didn’t stay long, but I kissed each of them for luck before I left.* I almost expected Stephane to shrink or jump away in shock, but he didn’t. I patted his arm and moved on.

Anny sent me an email last week to say that they’d written their first English paper and they all, including Stephane, felt they had done well, in large part due to our in-class preparation.

I don’t know if Stephane got into flight school. I don’t know if I’ll see or hear from him again. I hope he’s going to be okay.

*This is Quebec, folks – kissing is in fact more formal and polite than hugging, and perfectly appropriate at such a moment.

2. Luba:
Luba first presented herself to me as someone who was continually stymied by severe depression and OCD. She seemed to have little sense of appropriate boundaries, but she did seem to have a realistic understanding of the consequences of her actions, at least until she got accepted to university and realized that the consequence of not showing up to class for a month might be greater than she thought. She continually ignored my requests that she get proper documentation of her illness that would help me help her.

In the end, though, she did make an appointment with the Students With Disabilities Centre, and they sent me a letter confirming that her absences were indeed due to psychiatric problems. In the meantime, she has attended every class, and her work has gone from mediocre to exceptionally good. She will probably, if she does well on her final assignment, have enough points to pass; if not, I have a document in hand that enables me to give her some make-up work with a clear conscience.

3. Marta:
After being a pain in the behind for most of the semester, Marta asserted herself more fully by (apparently) flouncing out of class when I separated her from her friends. I called her to my office and we had a little talk, during which she was, if not contrite, at least docile.

Since our talk, Marta has not been absolutely cooperative, but she has been more pleasant. At the beginning of each of the remaining classes, I had to remind her, Melanie and Mary that they were not allowed to sit together, and then wait for them to arrange themselves at the front of the room. They did so, slowly and reluctantly. Last class I had them do course evaluations, during which I must leave the room; when I returned after the requisite half hour, I ran into Marta in the stairwell, and she waved her comments sheet at me – apparently she had taken it downstairs, to the cafeteria, to fill it out (with her friends, I assume; maybe even with Mary and Melanie, who didn’t come to class that day.)

The three of them have, however, done all this with friendly smiles on their faces. When I ask them to move, they sigh and giggle. Marta and Melanie participate actively in class (Mary is, as always, silent.) Marta stops me to explain WHY she has written an aggressive comment on her worksheet (“It’s about the character, miss; it’s not personal!”) And so forth.

Late last night I received an email from silent Mary. It said, “I would like to make an appointment to see you about something important.” I assumed it was about today’s oral presentations, that perhaps they weren’t prepared and were going to offer some sort of excuse. I told her I could speak to her after the class.

This morning, Melanie – who usually arrives in class well before the start time – didn’t show. There was a flurry of activity in Marta and Mary’s corner, and when I went back to remind them that they couldn’t sit together, Marta blurted, “Melanie’s not here! She has everything – the PowerPoint, the texts, everything! I’m trying to call her but I can’t get through!” Her phone beeped. “It’s her!” She jumped up and ran from the class. A moment later she was back. “She’s been in an accident. Hello?” she said into the phone. Then she pulled back and stared at it. “She hung up. She hung up!”

If it wasn’t true, it was quite a performance, on all their parts.

In the end, I arranged for them to do their oral for me at another time this week. And before I left them, I said, “But Marta? You still can’t sit next to Mary.” Marta grinned, and moved herself and her stuff to the front of the class.

There is still time for codas to these stories – there’s almost a week left, there are still final assignments to be submitted and final grades to be outraged about. All in all, though, I’m pleased with the tentative outcomes of each of these stories.

What do you think? Would you be satisfied with these conclusions? Anyone else you’d like to know more about?