It was spring of 1989.
I had just moved to Canada during the previous summer. I’m on the field during recess, and there was a fight between two boys. I ran towards them, cheering …
Jesse Ketchum (K-8) Public School was the third school I had attended during my grade 5 year. This is what many new immigrants go through when we first arrive. We moved around, and moved some more until we settled down. This means the kids also had to move schools until the family settles down. In this case, I moved schools until I settled lucked into a great one.
My first school in Canada was a tiny one on Niagara Street in Toronto. My first teacher was Mr. Bennett. I couldn’t remember much but I just remember Mr. Bennett had a deep voice when he was reading to us and he had giant mittens for hands. My first teacher in Canada was basically James Earl Jones. I think I was only there for a couple of months before we moved.
Then came the school before the school that changed my life. Bruce St. Public was a rough one. On day 1, my seat mate told me: “Don’t worry about anyone in our grade. I’ll take care of anyone that might mess with you. During recess we’ll head out and I’ll show you which grade 6s I can beat up also.” 😲
Needless to say, I was negatively influenced by the students at this school, often getting into fights, lots of mischief, staying out late and not returning home by curfew… etc, and I’m sure my parents noticed it too because Jesse Ketchum was not a school that was close by. I had to take a streetcar and transferred to another bus just to get there, 45 minutes to an hour one way, each day. Paying for transit as new immigrants was a cost they were willing to pay to change my scenery, and for the good of my education.
So back to the field, and the fight.
Coming from my previous school, whenever there’s a fight, you run into the crowd to get a good spot to watch, and you cheer and you swear and get real hyped up in case someone wants to fight you. You have to pay attention because you need to get your punches in either before it turns into a brawl or before the teachers come and you run away. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ That was what I knew (This was grade 5 by the way). Since I was new to this school, I had an extra incentive to pay attention to this fight: I needed intelligence! I was watching for who to avoid, and who I could take advantage of later.
First I heard his voice: “HEY!”. Then I turned around and saw a student coming towards where I was. As he jogged towards the fight, he was appearing bigger and bigger. His fists were clenched, and he looked angry.
“Hmm, could this be the alpha of the school?” I thought, “Coming to join the fight?” 🤔
I found out later that his name was Dexter. He was older than me, probably in middle school (grade 8 maybe?) at the time. What happened next is still seared in my mind. Dexter grabbed the two boys by the scruff of their necks and pulled them apart.
“We don’t do that here.” he said.
Dexter then gave them a lecture about how to settle differences, and made them shake hands. Just before he left, he warned the boys:
“Don’t make me come back here.”
I must admit my memory is a little fuzzy because I probably blacked out from the discrepant event that I just saw: “Students… stopping a fight…?”
After that day, Dexter became my hero and he had no idea. I stayed at Jesse Ketchum until I moved on to secondary school. But in grade 8, there was this one day, during lunch, I’m on the field and there was a fight between two boys. I ran towards them, and I bellowed in my best Dexter voice:
“Hey! We don’t do that here.”
Teachers are People too 
