"Really?" I continued. "How many people do we know that have gone through independent study? Let's see there's Rodney, Steve Kale, Michelle Beckenwood, Stacy Smith. Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. None of them graduated, not a single one.
"Yeah, but they were stupid." He said defensively. "I'm different."
"No you're not." I told him. "You're being used by the system. I'm sure the counselor spouted a bunch of bullshit to you and your parents about how this will help you. They're lying. It doesn't help you, it helps them. They've marked you as a likely dropout in the near future so they're trying to get rid of you before that happens. They don't give a shit about you or your future, they WANT you to drop out. But they want you to do it this way because it doesn't go on the school's statistics as a dropout; you go down as a transfer to another school. That way they don't lose any of their budget money or have their teaching methods audited by the state board of education.
"So off you go to independent study where you're encouraged to fade politely away. Do you know how they get you to drop out with this program? Do you know what the kicker to it is? It's that flexible schedule you were talking about. Come whenever you can, you only have to be there twelve hours a week. But you see, if you offer a teenager a deal like that, they'll abuse it and those fuckers KNOW that. You get up on Monday and say to yourself, 'I don't have to go in today because I only have to go twelve hours. I can knock out some hours tomorrow. Then Tuesday rolls around and you say the same thing. After all, you don't HAVE to be there on Monday or Tuesday. Before long you'll find yourself at Thursday without any hours built up. By that time the thought of spending six hours is too much to take. So you cut for that week; after all, anyone they send to independent study is an accomplished school cutter, aren't they? Before two months go by it will be too much trouble to go at all. There will be no paperwork done, nothing that says you've officially dropped out, but you will in effect have dropped out. Just like they planned for you."
Mike had simply stared at me during this speech, absorbing what I was saying without expression.
"Where did you come up with all that shit?" He asked me finally.
"My Dad's a teacher." I told him. "He works for the damn school district. Believe me, that's the way it is."
"What the fuck are you tellin' me all this for?"
I took a deep breath. "Mike, you're my friend. We've been friends since we were kids, right?"
"Yeah," He nodded, "But what's that got to do with anything?"
"Friends try to help each other. Remember when Fairview stabbed me? You grabbed him off of me. You helped me. That's what I'm trying to do for you.
Help you. You're about to make a big mistake, a mistake you'll regret for the rest of your life."
"How do you know I'm makin' a mistake?" He shouted. "Even if I do drop out what makes you think it's gonna be a mistake? What do I need a fuckin' diploma for anyway?"
"What do you want to do with your life Mike?" I asked him.
"What?"
"What do you want to do?" I repeated. "What would like to do for a living? What would be a dream job for you?"
"Man," He said, dismissing me. "Fuck this shit. Let's talk about something else."
"Look Mike." I said carefully. "Like I said, we're friends and I'm trying to talk to you as a friend. Nobody else is here, nobody's gonna hear what you say. I'm not putting you down or anything, I'm just trying to help you because you need some help. You're on a path of destruction here and I'm trying to steer you off of it. So tell me, what would you like to do for a living? What would be a cool job?"
For a minute I didn't think he was going to answer. Finally he said, "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
He shrugged. "I never thought about it before. I can't picture myself in five years, I don't know."
"Maybe that's part of your problem." I said. "You don't have any goals." I looked him up and down for a minute, an idea occurring to me. "You'd probably like a job where you get a lot of days off each week, wouldn't you?"
"The more the better." He agreed.
"A job where even when you ARE at work, you get to spend a lot of time sitting around on your ass."
He scoffed. "Yeah, like there are jobs like that."
"There is Mike." I told him. "There is."
"Yeah?" He said cynically. "Name one."
There was only one that I could think of. It was one that was well within reach of Mike if he would only graduate from school. "A fireman."
"A fireman?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "Firemen work twenty-four hour shifts ten days a month. That leaves twenty days off a month. When they're on shift they have beds, TVs, lounge chairs to sit in, all the amenities of home. They get to sleep while they're on the clock. And they make damn good money, much more than they deserve to."
He was turning the idea over in his mind. I could see him doing it and I felt the first ray of hope. Was I finally getting through to him a little?
"And you know what the best thing about being a fireman is?" I asked.
"What?"
"The public fuckin' worships you. You can do absolutely no wrong. And women dig firemen in a bad way. They'll practically drop down and give you head right there."
He was definitely interested now.
"The requirements are that you're eighteen and have a high school diploma. You also have to be able to pass a physical agility test, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem for you. You're in good shape."
"Are you sure about this?" He asked.
"Dude." I told him. "If you can just graduate you'll be in."
"No shit." He said softly.
"Look Mike, if you just work through this year you'll have it made. The school has a work-study program for seniors and fire technology is one of the classes. If you can hang in until then and bring your grades up to a 2.0 average you can go to the ROP classes. That means you'll just have to take three classes each day and then you'll spend the rest of the day hanging out at a fire station somewhere. You'll get to go to calls with them and watch them work and it'll look damn good on your application after you graduate."
He soured a little. "There's no way I'll get my grades up to a 2.0. I'm workin' on straight F's now."
"I'll help you with your work." I promised. "Just come over after school," I paused and then amended, "Well, after my Dad gets home that is, and I'll help you with your work. You can do it if you just go to school each day."
He shook his head. "I haven't spent a whole day in school for the last year.
I'm not sure I can do it."
"You CAN." I insisted. "Dude you're only seventeen years old. You have the rest of your life in front of you. How hard will it be to spend six hours in school for another couple of months? If you work at it we can bring your grades up and you'll be almost free next semester. A year of ROP and only going to three classes and you'll graduate. You start applying at fire departments and one of them will take you. It's not that long and it's not that high of a price, is it?"
"I guess not." He said.
It was touch and go for a while. Mike told his parents his decision to stay in school and they accepted it dubiously. However when his parents told the school counselor to withdraw the application for independent study they met some resistance. According to Mike, she tried her damnedest to get him and his parents to change their minds. She nearly begged he told me. But in the end he stuck to his guns and his parents stuck to theirs. The application was withdrawn and Mike stayed in high school.
As I promised I helped him with his homework. There was some friction at first when he discovered that I wasn't planning to DO his homework for him but to help HIM do it. There was also some friction when he didn't show up a few times so he could go get stoned with someone. I talked to him plainly about this, explaining that I would only continue to help him if he showed up each day. He was morose about it but agreed. His attendance at my study sessions improved remarkably.