Richard Mondello

As I said I would, I went straight to the Middle/High School Principal today. After telling her my story, she was appalled; she dropped what she was doing and went straight to work on investigating the incident.

By mid-day, the student was punished. As I type this post, he’s sitting in a three-hour detention session. More importantly, his privilege of using the school weight room in the evening has been “suspended until further notice”. Also, word has gotten around about the incident to people who matter - his coaches and teachers.

Although all of this brings me no joy, I hope he’s learned a lesson.

I seriously doubt it, though.

…

I’d also like to thank everyone for their concern and kind words. No, really, thank you. You all comforted me during a very difficult time in my life. For that, I’m grateful. Another set of thanks to my High School’s administration and people who care about setting things right.

By the way, in the alternate reality where I didn’t restrain myself, I would have been suspended for at least one day. That would have went on my record, which would have been passed on to whatever college I attend. In the end, I played my cards right, despite my lackluster hand.

I got an hour of sleep this morning. I couldn’t stop mulling over where I’m going to go to college and other things. I knew that my day would be exhausting.

Fast forward to this afternoon. My Dad wanted to take his motorcycle to a repair shop. He was going to make a drop off, and I was going to pick him up to bring him home. Unfortunately, there was some miscommunication, and I drove to the wrong shop. That mistake cost both of us an hour and a fair amount of gasoline.

Forget it. Not a big deal.

Immediately afterward, I had to run some food up to the school for my sister, who was at drama rehearsal. Because my day was going so poorly, I was glad to do this favor; it would make me feel like a good brother and a little better. After all, I love my sister.

After dropping the food off, I was still agitated from my subpar day. I walked outside the school and saw a bench. It was warm outside and there was a slight breeze; it was perfect. I decided that to calm down and just feel better, I would lay down on this bench, close my eyes, and daydream. It’s something I’ve done often over the last six years here at Dover Middle/High School. I thought Dover was the kind of place where you can do something like that and feel safe. I was infinitely comfortable, safe, and secure.

…

Water. Someone was pouring water onto my head. A middle school boy who I’ve never met was pouring water, from a bottle he was drinking out of, onto my head. Water. I just went for invasive ear surgery. If I got my ear wet, I’d be very sick and in excruciating pain for at least a week. More drastically, it could ruin my surgery. For no reason, this boy was pouring water onto my head.

I jumped up, appalled. I’m not going to lie to you, I lost it. In front of one witness, a school substitute teacher, I verbally let loose on this kid. Out of all of the instances in my life where violence was seemingly appropriate, this was number one.

But - I restrained myself. I don’t believe that violence solves problems, and I’m proud I stuck with my values.

I’m just having a hard time believing that a young man can just walk up to another man, an older man taking a nap, and randomly inflict harm upon him. Forget my healing ear - the water was ice cold. I could have jerked my head and slammed it down on the bench.

As I yelled at this boy, a 7th grader, he laughed at me. I questioned what values he had. I questioned if his parents taught him anything about respect. He kept laughing, I kept yelling. He walked away.

…

I approached the only credible witness, the substitute teacher who was with her young son. I apologized to her for anything inappropriate I said in front of her boy, and she told me I handled myself well. I asked her if she knew the boy. She did, and I took down his name and hers. Needless to say, the Middle School Principal will be paid a visit from one Mr. Richard Mondello tomorrow morning.

It’s not a vengeance thing - I don’t believe in revenge, either. This young man needs to understand that you don’t do something like that to anybody. It doesn’t matter that he could have ruined a very painful and expensive surgery and ruined my chances to hear ever again out of that ear. What if I had been laying on my side, with my healing ear facing up? It would have been toast.

The inside of my good ear was drenched. My hair was drenched. Luckily, the cotton ball I wore in my healing ear protected it.

This could have easily been the worst day of my life.