They are a puzzle to their teachers, sometimes with only 493 of the 500 pieces. They act out at the worst possible time, calling attention to themselves… sometimes the kind of attention we would label scorn or hatred. Sometimes classmates have less patience with them than I have. But I have always had a soft spot for bad boys… right on the bottom of my left foot. Seriously, they often have an aching need that no one in their lives seems willing to fill. One child finally told me that it was the separation of his parents that kept him awake nights and reduced him to a caterwauling clown on the classroom floor. Another revealed to me that he could only deal with loneliness by smoking weed. Their stories, once you dig them out, can seriously make you weep. And I have always believed that there was a key to opening up any kid. It’s a real shame that sexual predators can find the keys more easily than a classroom teacher can. And believe me, people look at you as if you are a monster too if you open up bad kids and try to find treasure inside. Only pirates and monsters do that, right? Well, I am neither. And I can’t reach every child.
But I have reached some. Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, and pearls.
Catch a Falling Star 
You sound like a the kind of teacher my grandson needs.
I taught BD kids in a locked classroom (sometimes:)) and we had a great time. They were fabulous.
Cool! Locked in like the circus lion tamer! Have any bite marks? I could compare mine. Were they middle school kids? You did say they were fabulous.