Professor Justice's Secret Files

The Drug Pusher

Another person's trade is generally none of my business. Personally, it is convenient to mind one's own work. It is annoying when there are others who affect your work even if you don't interfere with theirs.

But there was a time when my own career and life were not at stake. It was another person's life that was affected.

It turns out, that other person was a student in my advisory class. His life was affected by the illegal drugs supplied by his friend who was my student in another section. The affected student treated me like an older brother and I was willing to reciprocate the brotherhood.

It was unpleasant seeing my "brother" confined in a hospital. He wanted to stop using illegal drugs, but the temptation was always there.

I talked with the drug pusher. I told him I wanted him and my "brother" to graduate. But, if ever the pusher does not want to make effort to graduate, he should at least stop supplying my "brother" the drugs even if my "brother" asks for it.

The drug pusher was cunning. For some ladies and interested professors, his face looked handsome. This was why he could ask for favor from his classmates and persuade some teachers to pass him.

The drug pusher promised me that he's going to change and that he would not supply my "brother" any illegal drug again. So, I let him be.

But, on one unguarded afternoon, he gave my "brother" illegal drugs again. That's when I decided that my protective powers as a teacher would no longer work to secure the pusher.

Students must find sanctuary in the school. They must be at least safe here. I was told by a school administrator that, generally, we should not report our students to the police. We must practice total student care.

For a time, I gave a chance to that policy. But things turned out worse.

I was requested by school administrators to help the drug pusher pass all his subjects in spite of the fact that my "brother" had to take medications again. The school simply did routine checks and inspections, and a few parent-teacher conferences, but they never did more than that. The drug pusher was still on the loose, and he had hurt my "brother."

That's when I went to the police. They said they might kill him. Although I never induced them to do so, since the purpose of the report was to capture him, I said seeing him dead was fine with me.

However, I was checking my conscience. Did I really want him to die? I wasn't sure. Half of me said yes, another part said no. This was why I prayed. I told God that, with all honesty, I wanted the drug pusher to die. But if He was better plans for that person, I prayed that He would not allow the pusher to be killed.

The pusher either deactivated his account or blocked me in Facebook. He didn't graduate. Although he was able to use his charm and cunningness to negotiate a passing grade for a few of his subjects, he could not use those to me. It was easy to see the themes and patterns of what he was trying to do.

I haven't heard from him for a while now. It seems he's still alive. If God has a better plan for him, then I pray for God to change him gradually and according to His perfect time. Otherwise, I wish that the claws of destiny and the rule of law would effectively punish him for his actions.