The Good of a Bad Story
T. is a good kid, but like many good kids, he still gets himself into a little bit of trouble now and again. Today, T was challenging a substitute teacher, nothing major, but enough that the narrative found its way back to me. I pulled him aside on his way back from lunch. "Hey, T. Can we talk for a minute?" His eyebrow raised as he tried to figure out what might justify a conversation with the principal. "Sure," he answered timidly. "T, can I tell you a story?" "Yeah. I guess." "Once upon a time . . . " I began, giving myself a moment to gather my thoughts. I was making the story up on the fly. I knew what I wanted to say, but not exactly how. It wasn't going to be a great story, but I pushed forward anyway. ". . . there were two backpackers climbing a mountain. They walked side-by-side, their backpacks filled with a lot of heavy objects. As they climbed, one of the backpackers tired more than the other. He began