Too Cool for School

Grow up, Don't Throw up!

Yesterday, a girl in my dance class told me very matter-of-factly that she was going to throw up and that she needed to leave class. This is the same girl who told me for three weeks she needed to take a medication everyday at 11:05 and was really just going to get in the lunch line five minutes before everyone else. So I told her, “Michelle*, if you need to throw up, just throw up on the floor so I know you’re sick. ” (The girl makes up a fake illness everyday: backaches, fake pregnancies, etc.) We did about 150 crunches in warmup, and she was fine. Then I took a few minutes to go over the steps with students who need help, and next thing I know, another student tells me, “Michelle just threw up.” I said, “No she didn’t. Floor’s clean.” And Michelle triumphantly said, “Oh yeah, I did! ” Then I said the unthinkable. “Show me,” I demanded. “What? Eww!” Everyone gasped. “Show me!” I held my nose. Usually the smell of vomit makes me want to do the same. So Michelle brought out a trashcan from backstage. Sure enough, full of vomit. I let her go, and told her to take the trashcan with her. After class, I walked out in the hallway and realized that Michelle had left the trashcan just outside the theatre door to take care of. Gross. GROSS. GROSSSS! Am I so unrefined that I readily ask to examine other people’s vomit? The only thing that fazed me was the annoyance of having to take care of it myself. Anyway, Michelle came back to class and plopped down in the middle of the stage floor where we were dancing. Another student came and whispered to me, “Michelle is bulimic.” Honestly, folks, I’m a compassionate person. But when you’ve had the wool pulled over your eyes by a student before, it is really hard to trust that kid ever again. My suspicion was that she slipped backstage and made herself throw up so she could leave school. I said, “Michelle, if you’ve got bulimia, then your Mom and I need to talk.” Ooh! That was serious business. Once Michelle’s mother came to school and caught her sitting down in the middle of dance class. I explained that it was because of her backache and Michelle’s Mom said, “She has absolutely nothing wrong with her!” She proceeded to chew her daughter out in front of the whole class. Naturally, Michelle doesn’t want anybody to call her mom.

Tomorrow…I’m calling Michelle’s mom.

I love these kids, I really do. With all of their silliness and their spitballs and their fake-diseases, they win my heart. Maybe this is why I get up every morning at 6.

*Her name’s not really Michelle, so I can’t get sued for this.

posted by Heather at 2/28/2006