High?

As a teacher, I sometimes have the impossible job of detecting drugs and alcohol on my students. I have had no training in this area, so I am certainly not a pro when it comes to drugs.

In fact, I have never tried a drug, nor have I hung around people who participate in this extracurricular activity, so to say the least, my knowledge of the drug world is slim to none.

Yes, I am naive.

And I'm OK with that.

Chatfield, sadly, is one of the biggest drug schools in CO. The kids know how to get a hold of the stuff, and the majority of my students are partaking in it. It's sad. I hear stories that break my heart. However, I luckily have not noticed any of my students coming into class high. Or at least, if they were high, I didn't recognized the signs. As mentioned, I have received no training and I'm naive.

With that being said, summer school has been a different story. These students are not afraid to talk about their weekend activities, even when they know I am listening. I hear Monday after Monday about their stories of getting "so drunk I didn't even know where I was." Or, "Man, I was so high. It was awesome." I am well aware of who does drugs within my small group of students.

I actually lost three students on the second day of summer school because they were caught drinking vodka in their first hour class. They did not make it to me, their second hour class. I heard through the grapevine that they were drinking vodka from water bottles and the teacher caught them.

I wondered to myself I would have been so quick to catch them in the act.

As the weeks passed, I noticed one student who was a completely different person from one day to the next. One day, he would be highly interactive and participating with very intelligent comments. The next, he would sit and stare off into space with glassed over eyes. When his name was called, it would take him moments to recognize his name and moments more to turn his head in the direction of the voice. I began to suspect that he was coming to class high more often than not.

One Friday afternoon, I'm pretty sure I heard him tell his classmate, "I'm so high right now." I wasn't 100 percent sure that's what he said, but I made a note to pay more attention to his behavior on Monday.

As I read his essay over the weekend, I was convinced he had been high. His writing made no logical sense, he did not address the prompt, and his handwriting was barely legible.

From the moment he walked into my classroom Monday morning, I knew he was high. He had the same glossed over look he'd had on Friday, and he could barely make out a sentence. I knew I needed to notify administration.

At break, I went downstairs to find campus security. They were no where to be found, so I found the principal. I began, "Dr. J., I'm no pro in the matter, so I'm not completely sure, but I think D is high." I figured Dr. J would track down security, giving me time to re-enter the classroom without it being obvious I had turned D in.

Rather, Dr. J. grabbed his walkie talkie and said, "Show me where he is."

Dr. J. followed me to the classroom. I pointed to D. Dr. J. demanded, "D, come with me immediately."

The classmates stared and wondered what was going on. I was shaking.

I resumed class amongst whispers. Everyone was curious as to what was happening.

About five minutes later, D re-entered the class with Dr. J. closely behind. Dr. J. said loudly, "He's clear."

D sat down with a smug smile on his face.

I went out into the hallway to speak with Dr. J. He told me they had searched D and hadn't found anything to charge him as guilty. His pockets were empty, and since they couldn't find anything, they couldn't expel him. He also agreed that D probably was high, but they couldn't do much about it since they had no proof. He thanked me for notifying him about the problem.

I had to go back into the room and look D in the eyes. He was pissed. He was smug. He was talking loud enough to his friends for me to hear.

"She narked on me and told Dr. J I was high. I guess next time she should be more sure of it before she goes and tattles on me."

I was shaking with anger.

I continued on with class, and I was so grateful when the period ended. D left without a word.

I worried all night that D was going to make the rest of the semester a living hell.

However, he came to class on Tuesday and was a perfect student. And actually, I knew he wasn't high either. He was a different person than he had been the day before. Since that time, I don't think he's come to class high. He's been interactive and back to his intelligent self ever since.

While I was "wrong" in my assumption that he was high, I am glad I turned him in. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was coming to class high, but he's been clear of the drugs ever since (at least in school). He's been quite the enjoyable kid since our little incident.