Chicago Sun Times Tucker Steckman, a fourth-grader at Wells Elementary School in East Moline, brought a cardboard sign that proclaimed: “Skipping school . . . Shhh. Don’t tell Principal Versluis.” A photograph of the young outlaw fell into the hands of Major League Baseball, which tweeted the picture to 8.3 million followers. And, oh, by the way, shortly after the picture was taken, Tucker ran into his principal, Pat Versluis, inside Wrigley Field. “I saw him and I was kind of ducking down,” Versluis said with a laugh during a cell phone call from inside Wrigley Field. “I didn’t want him to see me either,” he said. “I’m here with my son, Aiden, who’s in fifth grade and I called out sick for the day!” “It’s all good,” Versluis, 43, said of the absences. “I haven’t missed a day in six years. I took yesterday off and when the game was postponed due to weather I got special permission from my superintendent to take another day.” As for Tucker’s ditch day: “Doesn’t bother me. He’s a great kid. He was student leader of the year. I thought the sign was hilarious.”
This isn’t how seeing your principal out at a ball game is supposed to go down. You’re supposed to go to the game loving the fact that all your friends are at school listening about box and whisker plots, which might be the #1 item in school that you’ll never use again after 6th grade, while you’re seeing the Cubs first home game of the year. Then when you’re world comes crashing down or you’re life flashed in front of your eyes because somehow some way you see your principal. But then, your brain turns back on and you think to yourself that if I’m skipping school and I see my principle out that must mean that he’s also skipping school too. We are one in the same. Then, you’re supposed to accidentally run into each other, be surprised that you’re seeing the other, say very little and then end the encounter with locking eyes for a second and then communicate with each other through no more than one head nod that there is an understanding that both of you will not talk about this to anyone. That you never saw each other. And then take this knowledge to the grave, never to speak of it again not even on your deathbed. That’s how this is supposed to happen.
That’s not what happened here. In fact, the exact opposite happened. These two people embraced it and let the world know that they were skipping school, breaking the rules. The kid even made a sign broadcasting the infraction he was committing. Pretty much, they slapped myself and everyone else who skipped school or work and laid low and of the radar because we didn’t want a single member of the world to know about what we were doing. And these people are just flaunting their disregard for education. The nerve. Also, it makes no difference that I’m writing this blog in the Hershey hotel because I’m chaperoning a class trip. I don’t want that brought up because it makes no difference.
What’s amazing is that this principal spoke about that he hasn’t missed opening day for the past 6 years.
It’s all good,” Versluis, 43, said of the absences. “I haven’t missed a day in six years. I took yesterday off and when the game was postponed due to weather I got special permission from my superintendent to take another day.
Obviously, this leader in education doesn’t care about escalation based on this line
As for Tucker’s ditch day: “Doesn’t bother me. He’s a great kid. He was student leader of the year. I thought the sign was hilarious.
Basically, if you’re a good kid and do everything right you get special privileges under this guys watch. Where does it end? You start letting this go and then you’ll have to turn a blind eye when you’re class president finds themselves in the middle of a distribution of slime scandal. I hope that doesn’t happen to this man but he’s opened the door but I’ve heard of weirder.