At a parent-teacher conference, I said what I felt-- not what everyone wanted to hear.

It was the middle of seventh grade, and I was failing in just about every subject. A parent-teacher conference was held in the Principal's office-- it felt more like the Inquisition, with me sitting at one end of a table and two of my teachers, the Principal, and my parents sitting at the other end.

I'd never been an A student, but this year was particularly bad. My concentration for homework was practically non-existent (loud tvs and radios abounded at home), I couldn't pay attention in class, partly because of boredom and partly because of my fear of the other kids, and I didn't participate in class. The Principal told me that the purpose of this meeting was to tell me that "We've been considering having you repeat the seventh grade. What we want to know is, will you do the work if you stay back?"

All eyes were on me. I guess I was expected to tear up and say, "Oh, yes, I'll do my work, PLEASE don't keep me back!" I still don't know where I got the guts to reply, "No." My parents leaned forward in disbelief.

"No, you won't do the work?" The Principal repeated.

"No," I said. "What's the point? If I stay back, I've already failed."

This seemed to throw everyone for a loop. I was told to go back to class while the Principal talked to my parents. The year progressed, with me still struggling through every assignment, just barely passing seventh grade.

When I think back on this, I wonder where I got the nerve to say "No" from--as a kid, I had difficulty standing up for myself. I think the Principal and my parents thought they were going to use the threat of staying back to scare me into 'buckling down', and didn't know what to do when their plan backfired. Really, what could they have done if I'd just sat there for another year doing no work-- I'd still be in the same situation, and couldn't be kept back another year after that.

I've also wondered whether that conference wasn't some sort of diagnostic tool, to rule out learning or emotional disability. My failure to burst into tears seemed to disappoint the teachers, who often used 'staying back' as a threat. It seems incredible that no further evaluation took place, since my inability to concentrate in class and at home signified attention and anxiety disorders-- but this was in the 70's, when very few interventions were done unless the kid was violent.

I'm just thankful that I had the courage to tell the truth that day, and not just parrot back what I was expected to say... if I hadn't, I'd have been the oldest kid in seventh grade.