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Meet Jack

Diane Bixler




  Meet Jack

  Diane Bixler

  Copyright 2014, Diane Bixler, all rights reserved

  Meet Jack

  This story is a work of fiction. The characters, places, incidents and all related details contained herein are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Nina

  I knew why the school had requested a meeting with me. It was nothing he had done directly, actually, it was likely because of what he didn’t do. Watching Jack grow up, I knew he was a little different. He wasn’t behind or slow, actually he accelerated academically. He had a knack for figuring out things and problem solving. He was an avid reader and I fueled his natural curiosity about the world around him with books and magazines. I encouraged him to learn, to question, to solve problems. But I think maybe I had pushed the academics a little too hard at too young an age. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t as social as other students his age.

  It wasn’t that he was shy really, he just preferred to be alone with his books and puzzles instead of playing. I tried to encourage him to go outside and play with the neighborhood kids, but watching them, he just wasn’t interested. He would start by talking to them, but after a short period, he would be off on his own once more, investigating an interesting bug or picking and tasting various plants, his peers long gone, not missing him and he not the least bit noticing they had moved on as well.

  I was nervous about him entering school and really wanted him to attend somewhere privately, but my husband and I didn’t have the financial resources to make that wish come true. And so, just before his sixth birthday, I dropped him off at the local public school for his first day of kindergarten. We had talked about school and he was interested in attending, but I was hesitant. I knew he lacked some of the social skills necessary for a successful overall experience.

  His kindergarten teacher was wonderful. Mrs. Meyers took over twenty children, all squirmy and full of laughter, and turned them into productive students by the end of their first year. I knew Jack would excel academically, he entered the class already demonstrating almost all of the required skills necessary to progress to first grade. She asked about Jack’s social skills after just one week with him. I explained he was an only child and that he seemed to prefer the comfort of mental activities over physical ones. She suggested he participate in some sports to help with his social skills and so, entering first grade, he started soccer.

  I knew before we even started sports wouldn’t be his thing and I was right. He was knocked unconscious the first quarter of his first soccer game. But I made him finish the season; he wouldn’t be a quitter. We attempted a few other extra-curricular activities, but none seemed to fit him. Or maybe he just wasn’t talented in the areas outside of mental tasks. Regardless, I continued to push him to participate in activities that required some form of interaction with others, much against his wishes.

  I had survived many parent/teacher conferences, talking about his apparent lack of social skills. Around his third grade year, he had been tested for giftedness. Although he had a very high intelligence quotient, he failed to make the requirements for the program. I always felt it was due to his strengths and focus being too narrowed. This year, his fifth grade year, I was called in, not by the teacher (which was standard protocol), but by his guidance counselor. He called it a child study team meeting, though I wasn’t sure what exactly about Jack we were theoretically studying.

  I arrived just before my one o’clock appointment, dressed a little more professional than usual, knowing he wasn’t the only one being studied. I was called in promptly at one and took a seat in Mr. Preston’s office. He was an older, but very sweet man and had been Jack’s guidance counselor for two years. Seems the counselors at this school split their students by lower and upper grade levels. Jack would have him one more year for sixth grade before moving to the middle school. I had met Mr. Preston last year and he seemed to genuinely have Jack’s best interests at heart. We each proceeded through the usual pleasantries before he finally got down to the reason as to why I was sitting, once again, in the administrative offices of Jack’s school.

  “His teacher is very pleased with his academic progress,” he got right to business. “Jack has done very well this year and she is recommending him for advanced classes at the middle school level.”

  I smiled, I was always proud of his accomplishments. “He loves school and certainly loves to learn.”

  “Yes, but as you and I know, as does his teacher, school isn’t just about the academics.” He shifted in his chair, leaning back a little. “Jack seems to struggle a bit with socializing and getting along well with his peers.”

  If he was waiting for me to make some excuse or encourage his opinion, it wasn’t coming from me. I figured if he asked a direct question, I’d answer it, but otherwise, I wasn’t feeding the school’s concern. It wasn’t that I was in any form of denial; Jack was a little different, almost awkward in comparison to his peers. I knew that, but he was doing well and surviving socially and thriving academically.

  Getting no verbal response from me, Mr. Preston continued. “Well, it’s just that Jack tends not to make friends. Does he socialize at home? Are there any friends in his neighborhood?”

  There was the question. “Yes, he does socialize, though probably not as much as his peers.” The first question was answered. “But he does go outside and play with other kids his own age. And he has friends in his neighborhood, many who attend this school.” I kept my response truthful. He did go outside and attempt to play with peers, even though it was usually at my insistence and a short-lived experience.

  “Well, that’s good to hear.” He shuffled a few papers on his desk, stacking them neatly. Was that necessary or just a nervous fidget? “It’s just his teacher, Mr. Varon, was a little concerned about his lack of socialization. We were thinking, if there was something we could do to help…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

  “Jack doesn’t need help socializing.” I was right. He was my son and I’d known him since before he was born. “He’s a little shy, I know, but he has friends in and out of school. Please keep in mind that, due to his excelling academically, he takes that part of school very seriously. He pays attention in class, he studies nightly, he hardly ever misses a day, even if he’s ill.” All of that was very true. “He socializes more after school, when he’s not thinking about everything going on academically, than when he’s in school. Surely you can appreciate that.”

  “Of course! We all appreciate the hard working student, and Jack is just that.” He leaned back a little, trying to relax. I was pleased to have him on the defensive. “It’s just that even during social school times, you know, lunch, recess, PE class, he still has that same focus, that same academic drive. He doesn’t seem to turn it off.”

  “I assure you, he does, especially at home.” I was starting to wonder if this was our only topic for discussion this afternoon. If so, this would be one of the shorter meetings I’d had with school staff. “He’s actually expressed an interest in learning music when he gets to middle school. We’re exploring instruments, but he seems to like the brass.” Truthfully, I was planning on introducing him to music, whether he liked it or not. His instrument would be his selection, but adding his preference to brass sounded good. Although, as soon as I spoke, I realized I would have to introduce this sooner rather than later, on the outside chance his counselor mentioned it to Jack or his teacher.

  “That’s great – the middle school band is an awesome experience. And if he’s good, he can continue into high school.” He seemed pleased with my answers and I relaxed a little, though I kept my mental guard high. And I made a note to talk about music with Jack tonight over dinner.

 
; “Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me this afternoon?” I was eager to go.

  “No, I guess that’s about it.” Mr. Preston stood as I made the physical motion I was about to stand. I took that as my cue we were finished and rose as well, standing tall and smiling at my victory.

  “Well, I do appreciate your, and Mr. Varon’s, concern about Jack’s social life, but I assure you, even if he doesn’t show it here, he has many friends and enjoys playing with them.”

  We shook hands and I glanced at the clock above the door as I turned to leave. It was ten after one, making this one of my shortest school meetings ever. He escorted me back to the reception area of the school and I made my way to the car. I could feel his eyes watching me as I left. I knew he thought I was in denial about Jack, but that wasn’t completely true. I did know he was a little different. I acknowledged that and I was working with him in an attempt to socialize more. But he wasn’t in need of the school’s help. They simply needed to keep him strong academically. I would work on the rest at home. Jack simply had strengths and weaknesses, just like any other child.

  As I pulled out of the school’s parking lot, I revised my mental note to talk to Jack about joining the band. I hoped he liked the trumpet.