Wad of Cash

My wallet won't shut.

Nope, I didn't win the lottery.  Nope, I didn't receive an inheritance.  And definitely nope, my school did not decide to start paying me for all the hours of work I put in outside the school day.  Actually, the reason my wallet won't shut is not because I have a huge amount of money in it at all.  Don't I wish.

My wallet won't shut because this week at school was a Scholastic Book Order week.  At many schools, books orders are simple.  Send home the forms, parents mostly put in orders online, mail in a few checks and order forms that come in the old fashioned way.  Receive books.  Done.

At my school, it's not so simple.  Being in a low-income community, I'm lucky I have kids ordering books at all.  I totally understand that when times are tough and budgets are tight luxuries get cut.  But it gives me physical pain to think about how often books are cut instead of cable and video games.  This year I have a group that loves their books, and every month I have had a handful of kiddos order books.  But at my school, checks and online orders are a rarity.  Nope, I get orders like this:

Yep, a ziplock bag of ones and change.  I had one kid this week actually turn in her order mostly in dimes.  I guess she cracked open her piggy bank for that one!  Adorable.  It makes me so happy to think about the fact that many of my kiddos are using their hard-saved pennies (literally) to order books.  That means that they are choosing them themselves, and it definitely means they will read them.  And hopefully (fingers crossed) it also means that they are on their way to becoming lifelong readers.

Why am I complaining then about my wallet?  Well, the kiddos don't know that I can't mail a big ol' bag of ones and change to Scholastic.  So I pay the balance on my credit card and keep the cash.  Easy enough, except now I have a wallet full of ones and dimes.  Hmm perhaps a visit to some sort of arcade or vending machine is in order...

Can't wait until the books arrive.  I am as impatient as the kids, because I cashed in a whole bunch of bonus points with this order.  Eee!  :)

Why I cried driving home from school:

I have been meaning to write about this for the past two weeks, but have had a difficult time putting everything I'm thinking and feeling into words...While I'm still not sure I'll be able to find the right words, I figure I better at least give it a try.  This post is a little long, but please indulge me--I have a lot to say...

There are many MANY challenging students in every grade at my school.  As Mrs. Mentor Teacher says, "it's no picnic" in any of our rooms.  This year I have a wonderful class, but since August I have been writing about one student who is particularly challenging, my student who is both prone to emotional outbursts (like calling me racist with no context whatsoever), who occasionally storms out of the room/runs away, and also cannot read (at all).  He has been my biggest challenge since August, and taken up SO much of my time, working with him 1 on 1 in the classroom, at lunch, and after school, not to mention the lengthy RTI meetings...

Slightly less challenging, but also difficult at times was another student with whom I got off to a rough start, but later decided he could trust me, after which our relationship significantly improved.  I'm talking about the student who decided immediately that he didn't like me because he happened to be the only African American student at his table, who liked to lay pouting on the floor from time to time, and, oh yeah, who brought a bb gun to school.  We have had our fair share of moments as well...

All that being said, I grew to LOVE these two students over the past few months.  When I realized how much baggage they were carrying and how challenging they had the potential to be, I made it my absolute priority to earn their trust and build a strong relationship with them right off the bat.  As the principal with whom I student taught said, above all, teachers need to get their students to like them, because if a student likes you, he'll do ANYTHING for you.  I quickly realized how true that was.  And as I could see I was beginning to capture their hearts, they were absolutely capturing mine.

Coming back from winter break was like entering a completely different classroom.  You see, both of these boys moved over break.  In my building, students move constantly.  When you think about low-performing schools, not everyone realizes how difficult it is to separate income and ability.  Low-income schools by nature tend to have transient populations--families move suddenly as jobs appear and disappear, leases run out, families are forced to move in with other familiy members...the list goes on.  This means kids are pulled out of school and plopped somewhere new.  Often they miss weeks of school in between.  What does this mean?  They fall further and further behind, not to mention the added difficulty of starting an intervention program.

I'm used to kids moving.  But when I found out that slightly-less-difficult student was moving, it was like a punch in the stomach.  What?  You're kidding, I told Mr. Principal when he passed on the news.  After all our hard work building a relationship, after all the progress we'd made, he was MOVING???

Just as I began to make my peace with that, not three days later when most-challenging-student didn't show up for school on the last day before winter break, the second bomb dropped.  After a little detective work and a few calls to Mom, we found out that the family had already moved out of their house, and moved in with family in a neighboring suburb.  They are currently not enrolled in any school, and administration is still trying to get in touch with them to figure out whcih school they should be enrolling at.

I literally cried Friday (before break) when I left school, digesting this news.  This student has brought me to tears before, and not in the "I hate him so much I could quit" way.  More in the, "Your life is so sad and your heart is so good and there is so little I can do to help you" type of way.  I came to love this student this year, and grew infinitely as a professional because of him.  He is so needy, and has been through so much.  Dad's not around, mom has a questionable job that involves working nights, and he's been at school after school after school.  He had finally begun making a little growth, and we finally had an RTI program in place with plans to evaluate for an IEP after just a few more weeks of data were collected.  We had truly bonded.

And then he moved.  What's going to happen to him? I keep wondering.  Actually, I'm almost certain I know what's going to happen to him...and that's the scary part.  No matter how hard the teachers at his new school will work, he will likely move again, and again.  He will fall even further behind, and eventually become so frustrated that he can neither read nor add that he will drop out of school.  He will likely join a gang, and then...who knows.  It is literally tearing me to pieces.  I love this child.  I did everything I could for him while he was in my room, and it was nowhere near enough, and nowhere near what he needed.  And now he's gone, and I can't do anymore.

And while my classroom was more orderly and quiet today, while no one talked back or needed my constant undivided attention, it felt...empty.  The rational part of me says that this will mean I can spend so much more time with my other low learners who got lost in the shuffle before.  And that's true.  But...somehow that just doesn't make me feel better.

To the child who brought an (unloaded) bb gun to school today:

When the assistant principal came and picked you up from my room today, I assumed you'd been fighting on the playground.  When she called my room phone and told me you'd brought something unsafe to school today, I assumed it was a pocket knife or lighter.  But when she told me that it was a gun, my jaw dropped.  Unloaded, no ammo, and without an intent or plan to harm.  [Thank goodness, or I would be shaking my head as you cleaned out your desk, expelled, and off to who knows where to do god knows what...]  But a gun was in MY classroom today.  Yes, I know it was just a bb gun.  I know you and your friends might play with these, that they're viewed as toys by some, but they are STILL weapons, guns, dangerous.  And if you brought a bb gun today, who's to say what will be next, for you or someone else?

I'm not quite sure what to make of this.  When the assistant principal and I talked this evening, she told me that you did not want to hurt anyone.  I didn't think you would.  But as she continued talking, and told me that you got it from someone in the community, that you were worried about other people in the community, kids and adults, and that you felt like you needed it...I didn't exactly feel any better.  I have no idea what you were thinking, and part of me wants to tell you what a stupid thing you did and yell at you that you are the LUCKIEST KID IN THE WORLD that you are not in more trouble...but then I stop, think, and sigh...  

You are too good for this kind of thing.  You have a good heart and a good head and it breaks MY heart to think that there are things in your life that make you think, at age 10, you should have a gun on hand.  And I fear for your future--who will you be in 5 years, 10 years, 15 years?  Where will you be, and with whom?  Please tell me what I can do to help you, because I just don't know.  I am here for you.  I am here for you from 8:35am-3:00pm, but sadly, when you walk out of my room and I say good-bye with a high-five and a smile, where are you going?  And how can I be there with you, in your head, even then?  I don't know, I don't know, I don't know. 

And so, tonight I add you to the list of children about whom I will stay awake worrying...

Sincerely,

Miss Teacher

Reality

I knew when I took this job that it would come with some of the natural challenges involved in teaching in a low-income school.  MIA parents, disorganized students, forgotten homework, missing lunches, kids who are behind because no one read to them at home as a young child, mouthy kids who don't know how to talk to adults because they have no role models, and kids who are just starving for attention and who seek it in any way posible.  I've seen it all already, but I have to say there are so many things I love about this population regardless.  Anyways, today I was presented with two other realities of where I teach:

1. This one isn't sad or tragic or heart wrenching, it's just annoying and frustrating.  So today I came out of the house and my dad asked me what happened to my car.  "What now..." I thought, remembering how my mom had  accidentally backed into it in the driveway last year.  Did that happen again?  Nope, it turns out my car was KEYED and now has a beautiful little swastika and F-bomb etched into the trunk.  Sweet.  Since my car hasn't left my driveway since Friday, I'm assuming this happened in the school parking lot on one of my marathon nights last week (probably Friday) and I just didn't notice.  While it's possible it happened in my driveway, I'd say the odds are stacked in favor of the teenagers who tend to loiter in the school parking lot at night.  Sooo...yeah, that's fun.  I hope that anyone who notices it will see the autism ribbon on the back of my car and the cross dangling from my mirror and assume that a person who would choose to display those things wouldn't pusposefully have carved profanity and white supremisist symbols into her car.  The good: they're small, not immediately noticeable, my dad attempted to cover them, and I'm hoping to get a new car in about a year anyways (maybe sooner...).  The bad: I'm a little freaked out about staying late at school now and just plain pissed off.

2. Much, much, much worse and makes me feel ashamed that I even just complained about my car.  Of course anyone who goes into teaching knows the drill: child abuse is real, it happens, and it's tragic.  Not only that, but we as teachers are legally required to report any and all suspect child abuse.  Simple, right?  Well, today I found out that a student of my friend, another young teacher at my school, stole something from another teacher Thursday afternoon.  She was yelled at and her father was contacted by that teacher.  Friday morning when she came in, she didn't want to take off her coat.  When she did, she was so covered in bruises that her arms were actually swollen.  It turned out her legs were covered too, and she was actually taken to the hospital.  Of course, the standard protocol was followed: DCFS was called, the father was arrested, the child was brought to her mother's house.  Hearing this story today made things seem very real.

This is one of those things that as a teacher you know in theory you might have to deal with, but you never really think you will.  Then, when you hear a story about it, you pray like hell none of your students ever experience that, and that you never have to handle that.  Because the truth is, when you sign up to be a teacher, you sign up for a whole lot more.  Even the students who sometimes I really think I hate I am emotionally invested in.  And to think that when they leave us at 3:00 some of them might go home to parents who hurt them or neglect them or just plain aren't around is something that none of us ever want to imagine.  Because should something like this happen, we know it will just leave us thinking, "Was there something I could have done to prevent this?  How could I have allowed this to happen?" even though we know that the very thought is ridiculous.    And the truth is, school may end at 3:00 but our minds never turn off--we are teachers 24/7 and we bring our work home:  the papers to grade, the lessons to plan, and the kids who we lay awake at night worrying about.  Tonight that child will not be one of my students, but my friend's student.  I will be laying awake praying for her, praying that my own students are safe, and praying for my friend, her teacher, hoping that she will be able to sleep tonight.