The Bing and I.

I have this student named David who suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Anxiety Disorder... he used to have a thing for Bing Crosby and so every time he felt he wasn't coping with the work in my class, or life with in general his work would start to feature pictures of Bing. The worse David felt the more Bing there was and sometimes he felt so bad that his essays started to look more like commemorative photospreads than English assignments. At the moment David has a fascination with the Adolf Hilter and so recently he has been unable to write anything without casting Adolf Hilter as a character, quoting Hitler or including a picture of him somewhere on the page.


The strangest piece of work David has ever handed me was a story where he had been hired by Satan to facilitate my nervous breakdown... in the story his relentless obsession with Bing Crosby reduces me to a quivering lump; David finds me hiding in the cleaners storeroom, hands me a gym-sack full of guns and tells me it is everyone else's fault... the rest writes itself! When I showed the story to the school social worker she said that it was great to see that David had finally found someone at the school he can open up to... I am not quite so sure about her optimism.