"Seventeen"

The past several weeks have been rough, but it's always good to discuss the events with others. I have broken up several fights, had students walk out of my room, etc. At times, I was a bit frustrated...it's always best to go talk to Mom.
I discussed my classroom problems with my mother a few days ago, and she gave me the best advice I've heard in a while. After I explained my frustration at my students' misbehavior and apathy, she told me this story...
My Mom and Dad used to work at the Columbia Training School, one of the state's educational facilities for juvenile delinquents. They helped murderers, rapists, and other criminals. She said that one student in particular had major behavior problems. In addition, he couldn't read, write, and he didn't even know exactly how old he was. Everyone arrived at the decision that he was probably about seventeen, so "Seventeen" became his nickname. My Mom said that over the years, she tried her hardest to teach him to read and write. She never succeeded in teaching him to read, and he could only write a little bit when he left. She told me that most importantly, when Seventeen left the Columbia Training School, he knew that someone cared about him. She ended her story saying, "Sometimes it's just important for a child to know that someone is there to care for him or her." While this is a pretty simple idea, I hadn't really thought about it that way. Now I enter the classroom with a primary goal of letting the students know I care.