HELL'S ANGEL

His reputation preceded him. I remember seeing him in the halls when he was only in second grade getting screamed at daily, hearing his name repeated like it was on a loop tape recording while he stood and stared silently at his feet.

His father bragged to the other teachers about being the head of a Milwaukee motorcycle gang. It was a tough family whose reputation in the neighborhood went back two generations. I conjured up images of wildmen on Harleys driving through the school if I dared to cross Bob, the ten year old boy with the mullet that I’d seen in trouble daily for the past two years. So when he ended up in my class this fall I was a little surprised to find that the child that had been branded a hellion at the age of seven was actually a decent kid. Of course he was a little behind academically and he didn’t demonstrate a whole lot of self control, but then again either did his new teacher.

A few weeks after school started Bob mentioned that his parents were going to come to Open House. Just the fact that he would want his parents to come to school was a sign to me that he was feeling more comfortable in school this year. After the past several years of feeling like an outsider he was finally beginning to feel like he belonged in my class. But I have to admit that I was a little uneasy; the image of the wildmen on Harleys kept coming back to me and I was a little bit nervous about meeting his parents.

When Bob’s parents came in I knew who they were immediately - the matching tattoos on their necks may have given them away. But the situation changed when I asked his father about what he was doing to help Bob with his homework. His smile vanished and he sullenly stared at his feet as he admitted that he probably couldn’t read any better than his nine year old son. He confessed that he probably had the same learning disability as his son did but wasn’t offered much help as a child. He made it clear that his son would be in school every day working, and that he wouldn’t let his own son make the same mistakes in life that he did. I was prepared to look this man in the eye and point out his responsibilities as a parent. He may have been tough but I thought I had justice and righteousness on my side. That night he taught me something about redemption.

The situation reminded me of a story I once read. The story goes that when the son of God was nailed to the cross and died the first thing he did was go straight to hell and set all of the sinners free. While the devil wept and mourned their loss God said to him, “do not weep, for I shall send you everyone who is self-righteous in his condemnation of sinners and hell will be filled up once again.” Bob’s father had been redeemed, I was the self-righteous one.

A few days later while dropping the kids off at the bus Bob asked me a question: Mr. Hagen, if you had the chance to, would you get rid of me? Would you trade me for a kid from Ms. Hintz’s room?” “No Bob,” I said. “You’re part of my class now and you’re stuck with me all year.” He smiled and waved back to me as he got onto the bus. “See you tomorrow Mr. Hagen!”

Yes you will Bob, yes you will . . .