Yesterday, I attended my first class's high school graduation. I'd made a promise to those kids 7 years ago, that I'd be there and that I wanted to see all their names written on the ceremony's program. With every odd stacked against these kids, the goal of graduating from high school was a big one.
My first 3 years of teaching were spent in an elementary school a block away from the borderline of two rival gangs. Shootings were common enough and my students would often walk in to class with stories of the past night's hit. Once, my 4th graders walked in describing the body that was found shot right in front of our school. And another time, while I was working after class, I heard dozens of shots just outside and had to wait a few hours before I could go home. Needless to say, in an area of poverty and violence, my students grew up much faster than they should have and came to me with only a shred of innocence left. My classroom became a sort of safe house as a group of kids would stay after school every day because they didn't want to go home. I worked late, balancing my role as a teacher (with enough things to do) and time spent after school as parent, counselor, and friend. The stories they told and the things I witnessed while on home visits broke my heart on a daily basis. I wanted to take all of them home and raise them myself.
So on the last day of school before my 6th graders were promoted, when I told them all I'd be there to witness their graduation day, I was giving them a huge challenge and I was letting them go into the big (isolated) world of theirs hoping and praying that they'd make it. And to wish even further, I hoped they'd make it with some softness still in their hearts.
Fast forward to yesterday. My eyes searched for familiar faces among hundreds of caps and gowns. One student spotted me and yelled, "I knew you'd be here. You promised you'd come! I knew it!!!" The smile on her face made all the effort it had taken (feeling so ill) to get there worthwhile. After the ceremony, I found a handful of students. We were so happy to see each other. They had remembered my promise, and we all beamed at each other. Hearing things like, "Best teacher ever right here!!" and seeing their smiles made me realize just how true it is that, "People will never remember what you said, but they'll remember how you made them feel." I walked away feeling invigorated. Like THAT right there, that little moment in time proved exactly why I became a teacher. Because somehow, some way I had made a lasting, positive impact in these kids' lives.
Only about a quarter of my kids were on that program. Maybe less. Some are in juvenile hall, others are graduating from a continuation school, and with the transiency rate so high, I know many have relocated to other areas. I was sad for the ones not there. But I was super proud of my kids that did make it. All the ones I saw still had a softness in their eyes. Yay! Now if only there were tons of good jobs out there for high school graduates... when I asked about future plans, not a single student had one. No college, no job lined up, nothing. Still, if they could make it this far, alive and with a smile on their face, I know they can do anything!
Hooray for all the people they knew along the way who helped steer them in the right direction. So many volunteers, adults and programs, like sports, make SUCH A DIFFERENCE for kids from areas like this. It's a team effort on a daily basis to fight off all the ugliness that tries to lure them in. And I personally want to thank every single individual who had a positive influence on the lives of my kids. Though they'll never read this, my heart is just bursting with gratitude for anyone who's ever helped, I just have to say it! :)
My first 3 years of teaching were spent in an elementary school a block away from the borderline of two rival gangs. Shootings were common enough and my students would often walk in to class with stories of the past night's hit. Once, my 4th graders walked in describing the body that was found shot right in front of our school. And another time, while I was working after class, I heard dozens of shots just outside and had to wait a few hours before I could go home. Needless to say, in an area of poverty and violence, my students grew up much faster than they should have and came to me with only a shred of innocence left. My classroom became a sort of safe house as a group of kids would stay after school every day because they didn't want to go home. I worked late, balancing my role as a teacher (with enough things to do) and time spent after school as parent, counselor, and friend. The stories they told and the things I witnessed while on home visits broke my heart on a daily basis. I wanted to take all of them home and raise them myself.
So on the last day of school before my 6th graders were promoted, when I told them all I'd be there to witness their graduation day, I was giving them a huge challenge and I was letting them go into the big (isolated) world of theirs hoping and praying that they'd make it. And to wish even further, I hoped they'd make it with some softness still in their hearts.
Fast forward to yesterday. My eyes searched for familiar faces among hundreds of caps and gowns. One student spotted me and yelled, "I knew you'd be here. You promised you'd come! I knew it!!!" The smile on her face made all the effort it had taken (feeling so ill) to get there worthwhile. After the ceremony, I found a handful of students. We were so happy to see each other. They had remembered my promise, and we all beamed at each other. Hearing things like, "Best teacher ever right here!!" and seeing their smiles made me realize just how true it is that, "People will never remember what you said, but they'll remember how you made them feel." I walked away feeling invigorated. Like THAT right there, that little moment in time proved exactly why I became a teacher. Because somehow, some way I had made a lasting, positive impact in these kids' lives.
Only about a quarter of my kids were on that program. Maybe less. Some are in juvenile hall, others are graduating from a continuation school, and with the transiency rate so high, I know many have relocated to other areas. I was sad for the ones not there. But I was super proud of my kids that did make it. All the ones I saw still had a softness in their eyes. Yay! Now if only there were tons of good jobs out there for high school graduates... when I asked about future plans, not a single student had one. No college, no job lined up, nothing. Still, if they could make it this far, alive and with a smile on their face, I know they can do anything!
Hooray for all the people they knew along the way who helped steer them in the right direction. So many volunteers, adults and programs, like sports, make SUCH A DIFFERENCE for kids from areas like this. It's a team effort on a daily basis to fight off all the ugliness that tries to lure them in. And I personally want to thank every single individual who had a positive influence on the lives of my kids. Though they'll never read this, my heart is just bursting with gratitude for anyone who's ever helped, I just have to say it! :)
Wonderful reflections, Mindy. I remember visiting your class and sensing that you were indeed making a huge difference in their lives! So great you could be there for graduation.
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