Singing the Sky

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You know how when the electricity goes out, the silence of it all can wake you up? That’s what is going on. My nerves are on edge, and I woke up to the electricity going out. Why I didn’t wake up because of a big crash is beyond me. As you can perhaps see in this really bad photo, an SUV crashed into the pole, knocking it down with the transformer into the yard/parking lot. There are electrical wires everywhere. I vaguely remember hearing sirens. I hope the person driving is okay.

I wish I were still asleep. I need some sleep. Yesterday was pretty stressful. I had just returned from my lunchtime walk, wearing a black suit with tennis shoes, when I got word that my principal was looking for me. Apparently the high school was trying to contact me. I called the assistant principal at the high school with forboding. He informed my that Older Son had been caught in possession of a controlled substance at school, and was under the influence. I immediately burst into tears. This is one of those “what if” occurances that has sat at the back of my mind ever since Older Son returned from Feckless Dad’s to live with me. I have told Older Son many times throughout the years that I never wanted to be one of those parents who were in the system, especially since I work in it. More recently, I have told him that he’d better not do anything to land himself in a situation where he might have to come to my alternative school. Well.

I grabbed my purse and, hyperventilating, jumped into my principal’s car. We drove to the high school together, where I got to see Older Son sitting cuffed in the police officer’s office. Older son appeared blase about the entire thing, and it took a serious mommy rant to get him to give up some names. I understand he didn’t want to rat anyone out, but I wanted the officer, who I work with at times, to say something favorable to the judge. And yeah, the idiot distributing the stuff shouldn’t exactly get off scott free. Prescription drugs are way more of a safety issue than is marijuana, in my opinion.

They had found out because Older Son had fallen down during a morning class, and was acting “unresponsive” to questions in class. He was given a field sobriety test, and returned to class, after having dumped a few pills behind a plant in the principal’s office.

On his way back to class, he mentioned to a “friend” about the pills being behind the plant, and the “freind” ran back to retrieve them, and gave them to Older Son once again. Someone witness this event and turned him in. That individual, being eighteen years old, was immediately taken to jail for distribution of a controlled substance. Bail is set at eight thousand.

Meanwhile, I had made my way to the courthouse with my mother. They were doing a detention hearing, which is to say that they were going to go through the formal motions to send Older Son to lock-up in a town two hours from here for a minimum of two weeks. No bail. Juveniles do not have the same rights as adults.

Here is a miracle for you. I called my counselor to tell her that I would not be able to make my appointment due to the situation. She asked if I was okay. I told her that I was overwhelmed, was about to go to a detention hearing, and had no idea if I was supposed to have a lawyer or not. She told me most certainly, and gave me a name and number. I called the lawyer’s office and was told that she was in court. A court officer overheard me talking on the phone, and helpfully pulled her out of the courtroom I was standing next to. Wow. So, instant legal representation by a respected lawyer in the community.

Going into the courtroom, I saw an old debate class buddy of mine contesting a motion. He is good. I remembered why he always won, even though he lost the motion to suppress. I was scared. It was like one big long panic attack, sitting there in court next to my handcuffed son, waiting to see what would happen. My debate buddy, whose wife is the assistant principal who busted Older Son, wrote me notes and tried to make me laugh. He told me to “give em hell”. That support at that time, in such an embarrassing moment, was precious.

Finally, it was time to take the stand. Still in the damn tennis shoes, I was sworn in and questioned by my lawyer.

“What is your occupation?”

“Where are you employed?”

“You have lots of support in the community, don’t you?”

“Do you go to church?”

“What church do you attend?”

“I understand you have already arranged counseling for your son, is that correct?”

“In the back, is that his grandmother who will be supervising him while you are at work?”

And so on. Finally the judge called our lawyer and the prosecutor to the stand and released Older Son to my custody. He chewed out Older Son. He told him that it appeared that the court proceedings had a greater impact on me than on him. He was not impressed with Older Son’s affect. This affect is Older Son’s defense mechanism, however, and I understood. Later, in the car, Older Son took my hand and apologized very sincerely. I can’t remember the last time he held my hand. He thanked me for being there for him. He knows that his dad would have let the chips fall where they may. Having been to numerous juvenile facilities, and working closely with those who have been in said facilities, I was terrified for Older Son to be incarcerated in one, as he has few assertiveness skills. Also, I didn’t want his self-image to include an image of a convict.

The lawyer did a good job. She kept me from being an awful basket case, which is what I would have been had Older Son been transported to far away town for weeks. I simply don’t know how I would have functioned. It was difficult seeing a probation officer with whom I had worked take the stand and recommend that my child be locked up. Later, as she explained the terms of house arrest to me, she insinuated that although we may work together, she doesn’t know what kind of trashy life I really lead. Ouch. I suspect she was taken by surprise having to take a stand and be questioned by the lawyer. It turns out that this is the first case in recent history where the state has lost the detention hearing. The prosecutor was furious. I am unsure how I will work with this probation officer, who I now must see twice weekly with my son, in addition to the whole concept of her being able to do home visits at will. Ack.

I take back every single snide remark I made about people when I began this job that I so didn’t want. Everyone at work knows what has happened. This is what I have heard from the three people I spoke with during and immediately after the whole ordeal.

“Would you like for me to go to court with you?” (This from my principal, who drove me to the school.)

“Yes, everyone knows. We are a small family. We have your back.” (Our secretary.)

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?” (My immediate supervisor with the funny tennis shoes, giving me a long hug.)

Apparently, this is where I was supposed to be. Even with the awkwardness of the situation, this is apparent.

The hearing to expell is on Monday. The options are expulsion to my program (no way, he would be with my students for crying out loud), or expulsion, period. I will ask for expulsion. I want the judge to let him take the GED and get on with his life. The probation officer, who now has way too much control over our lives, is wary about him attending college classes, “because you know what they do in college.” Hello. Hasn’t she noticed what the high school is like? I would think so, given her occupation.

My principal will be in charge of the hearing. Things could be so very, very bad, but they are not. They are just regular bad given the situation. Tomorrow, Older Son goes to counseling. He will have drug tests. He is soooo grounded. He can’t even be out of the house with ME after 7:30 P.M. His granddad is taking him to get his hair cut in the morning after I drop him off. He chose to donate his hair to Locks of Love. It is good to see something positive come out of this.

I suspect that Older Son sees a positive side as well. When I asked him why he did it, he told me, “Because I hate school.” I guess he won’t have to worry about returning to school anymore. I hope that this was a wake-up call, and that he now is able to get on with his life as he wants to live it. (College classes, computer science.) Wish him luck and better judgement.

The next evening when I finally have time to post this…I have so much more to say….wow….this is really intense.

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