Melvin’s hand is up.
He’s a 13-year-old African American with too much energy and not enough self-control.
He’s often angry and out of his seat. He’s usually in trouble. But today he’s sitting forward in his chair with his hand raised high and a look on his face like he’ll explode if I don’t pick him right this second.
So I do.
“Mr. Singer! Can I show my imovie now!?”
This is a first. He hasn’t turned in a lick of homework all month.
“Wow! You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” I say.
“Yeah,” he responds. “I was up all night finishing it.”
I start to doubt this, but he does look awfully tired underneath that urgent need to share.
This takes a few minutes.
Let’s face it.
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