It's impressive what these kids go through. The frequency at which they move around rivals that of military families. The adults who take care of them seem to shift on a monthly, or sometimes weekly basis. Knowing where their next meal will come from is sometimes a mystery. Who they can trust shifts with the weather. At least one of their teachers misses a day of school each week. At least 2-3 weeks of each month is a short school week due to a holiday or teacher professional development. It is nearly impossible to set a routine for any of the students in my school, there are just too many moving parts.
I can't imagine having that be my life as a teenager. I always knew where my parents were. I always knew where my teachers were. I always knew when Model UN practice was, I knew when my athletic events were, I knew where practice was and what time I needed to be there. I knew when play rehearsal was, I knew when choral practice was, I knew what time dinner was and where I was having it. I knew who my friends were, the good and the bad, and I knew the boys I liked didn't have real skeletons in their closets. The only thing I didn't know was what to wear everyday.
As a creature of habit, it's crucial for my mental stability to know when things are happening, where, and with who. I don't enjoy surprises, or more accurately, the unexpected. Bumping into people at the mall makes my palms sweat. Losing power makes my heart stop. Clicks in the wall from air conditioning make my stomach come up to my throat. While I try constantly to be prepared for anything and everything, I have a hard time handling the little unexpected things in life.
Realizing how important it was to me to know where everyone was at all times, when events were going to happen, and what I was supposed to be doing, I decided to be a sliver of stability amidst the unpredictable lives of my students. It started out as little things during my first year. I always brought applesauce for MB in my lunch box. SM always got my grapes. AN always got a cup of peanut butter. I went to every football game to cheer on DB, event hough he sat on the bench most of the season, it didn't matter. I vowed to be there every day, and would always teach them. I gave them as much notice as possible for when I had meetings, and saw them off at the busses every afternoon, rain or shine.
During my second year, these stability commitments grew. I always had food for those who missed breakfast. I promised MD that I would have orange juice and pop tarts for him if he came before 9am. I promised DO I would come to his 4th period class at 3:15p to review his behavior for the day and bring a reward if he met expectations. Whenever DB walked into my room, I promised her my attention, no matter what was going on, as long as she walked in appropriately. I began going to basketball games to cheer on DR, as I promised not to miss a minute of him playing. When he made varsity, I told him I would be at every game to cheer on him and DO. When the kids asked for materials, I brought them, as I promised them I would make sure they could learn and had what they needed, no matter what. When Sprint Football came around in the spring, the boys asked me to come to their games, and for rides home, and so I brought DO, MD, DT, and DR to and from, making sure they were there, on time, fed, and ready to play so they could be their best. When DO needed a good swift kick in the butt, I gave it to him. I continued to come every day possible, and only missed school when it was beyond my control. They continued to get advanced notice of meetings so they knew where I was and saw them off at the busses every day, rain or shine.
Now in my third year, the stability seems to have grown to a much deeper level. In the beginning of the year, DO was bopping between his mother's apartment and his dad's girlfriend's apartment. He didn't know where he was going to sleep each night, as it depended on what the adults felt like that day. They may have had a schedule planned out, but DO didn't know it and I couldn't figure out the pattern. His cell phone got turned off for a brief period, and his parents couldn't pay it for one reason or another. I couldn't keep track or where he was so I could pick him up for school, so I paid his phone bill. His grades suffered, he had a hard time staying awake in class, and he wasn't getting his homework done. I hadn't told his teachers what was going on because I didn't know if he felt comfortable with me sharing. After a few weeks, his teachers were getting very frustrated with him and expressed their concern. I explained he's had a hard time at home and his life is really unstable at the moment. I suggested we have a meeting to address the concerns and they all agreed. At the meeting, we discussed that his parents need to provide more structure, and that he needs to stay at one apartment during the school week. I told the teachers I would talk to the parents and figure something out. After meeting with his mom, she said that he would be staying with her from then on during the week and see his father on the weekends. This worked well until his mother moved to a new apartment that didn't have enough room for him, so he moved back into his father's girlfriend's apartment across town. I told his parents I would help out with transportation to make sure he could get to/from school. Thankfully, he's getting better grades and I spend lots of time sleeping on weekends.
In the beginning of the year when I was setting up the afterschool program, I had many meetings during odd times of the day when I would usually be teaching. This caused me to have to leave the classroom at random times and have my aide, Ms. C, take over the lesson. She's an excellent teacher, so I wasn't worried about the quality of instruction. I didn't think the kids would mind since they enjoy things being mixed up every once in a while. However, it was brought to my attention after a month or so of this that it wasn't alright for me to leave. Every time I walk out of the classroom, there is an uproar of, "Why are you always leaving us?" or "What do you need to do NOW?" or "Why do you always have meetings? Don't they know you're a TEACHER?" It broke my heart. I had broken my promise. I told them I would TEACH them every day. I told them I would be there, in my classroom, leading them down the road to reading. They expected me to be the rock in their day, what they could always count on to be there and be exactly the same if not better. This grew into attending sporting events. I missed half of a girls game and half of a boys game one evening because I had a dinner I needed to attend. I left half way through the girls game and went to dinner, then returned during the second half of the boys game. When the boys got in the car to go home, they talked about different things that happened during the game. At one point, MD says, "Ms. Walka, you should have seen it! I dominated! But you weren't there...." I was crushed. MD's parents never come to games, never see him play. I was the parent there for him. I was his biggest fan. And I had let him down. I thought they wouldn't notice that I was gone for half the game, but they were keenly aware of my location... which was not in that gym.
I could give infinite examples of how they counted on me to be the parent, the rock of their life. Many of them have wonderful, loving parents that just can't be there or be that rock. They work long hours, they move around a lot due to low wages, they can't get to the school because they don't have bus money, they have other kids that they need to take care of at home. So they ask me how the game went, how did their son/daughter do in school today, what does their child need? Because they expect me to be the rock in their child's life, the stable point on the horizon. I didn't realize my role had grown beyond teacher, it had turned into something way past education.
I can't remember every soccer game, basketball game, or lacrosse game that my mother was at, but I can remember the ones that she missed. The ones where I looked to the side line and couldn't find her. She always told me when she couldn't be there, but it didn't ease the pain. I wanted her to see me. Although she wasn't there in person, she was definitely there in spirit, cheering the loudest out of everyone else. She was at every school play, choral concert, speech contest, dance recital, and poetry contest. She clapped the hardest, cheered the loudest, and smiled the brightest. At least she did to me.
I know it made all the difference to have a rock like my mother in my life. It gave me the confidence to speak louder. It gave me the confidence to sing freer. It gave me the confidence to take risks and not be afraid to fall. It gave me the confidence to be me, because I knew that my rock was there, forever loving me for everything and anything I was. I could be a truly free spirit as long as I had my rock in my life.
It's important, while dancing, to find a point to focus on when you need to spot - if you don't spot you lose your balance and fall. Similarly, I hear if you don't keep your eye on the horizon you can get sea sick. I hope to be that steady, unwavering point for my students - because sea sickness is just the worst.
I can't imagine having that be my life as a teenager. I always knew where my parents were. I always knew where my teachers were. I always knew when Model UN practice was, I knew when my athletic events were, I knew where practice was and what time I needed to be there. I knew when play rehearsal was, I knew when choral practice was, I knew what time dinner was and where I was having it. I knew who my friends were, the good and the bad, and I knew the boys I liked didn't have real skeletons in their closets. The only thing I didn't know was what to wear everyday.
As a creature of habit, it's crucial for my mental stability to know when things are happening, where, and with who. I don't enjoy surprises, or more accurately, the unexpected. Bumping into people at the mall makes my palms sweat. Losing power makes my heart stop. Clicks in the wall from air conditioning make my stomach come up to my throat. While I try constantly to be prepared for anything and everything, I have a hard time handling the little unexpected things in life.
Realizing how important it was to me to know where everyone was at all times, when events were going to happen, and what I was supposed to be doing, I decided to be a sliver of stability amidst the unpredictable lives of my students. It started out as little things during my first year. I always brought applesauce for MB in my lunch box. SM always got my grapes. AN always got a cup of peanut butter. I went to every football game to cheer on DB, event hough he sat on the bench most of the season, it didn't matter. I vowed to be there every day, and would always teach them. I gave them as much notice as possible for when I had meetings, and saw them off at the busses every afternoon, rain or shine.
During my second year, these stability commitments grew. I always had food for those who missed breakfast. I promised MD that I would have orange juice and pop tarts for him if he came before 9am. I promised DO I would come to his 4th period class at 3:15p to review his behavior for the day and bring a reward if he met expectations. Whenever DB walked into my room, I promised her my attention, no matter what was going on, as long as she walked in appropriately. I began going to basketball games to cheer on DR, as I promised not to miss a minute of him playing. When he made varsity, I told him I would be at every game to cheer on him and DO. When the kids asked for materials, I brought them, as I promised them I would make sure they could learn and had what they needed, no matter what. When Sprint Football came around in the spring, the boys asked me to come to their games, and for rides home, and so I brought DO, MD, DT, and DR to and from, making sure they were there, on time, fed, and ready to play so they could be their best. When DO needed a good swift kick in the butt, I gave it to him. I continued to come every day possible, and only missed school when it was beyond my control. They continued to get advanced notice of meetings so they knew where I was and saw them off at the busses every day, rain or shine.
Now in my third year, the stability seems to have grown to a much deeper level. In the beginning of the year, DO was bopping between his mother's apartment and his dad's girlfriend's apartment. He didn't know where he was going to sleep each night, as it depended on what the adults felt like that day. They may have had a schedule planned out, but DO didn't know it and I couldn't figure out the pattern. His cell phone got turned off for a brief period, and his parents couldn't pay it for one reason or another. I couldn't keep track or where he was so I could pick him up for school, so I paid his phone bill. His grades suffered, he had a hard time staying awake in class, and he wasn't getting his homework done. I hadn't told his teachers what was going on because I didn't know if he felt comfortable with me sharing. After a few weeks, his teachers were getting very frustrated with him and expressed their concern. I explained he's had a hard time at home and his life is really unstable at the moment. I suggested we have a meeting to address the concerns and they all agreed. At the meeting, we discussed that his parents need to provide more structure, and that he needs to stay at one apartment during the school week. I told the teachers I would talk to the parents and figure something out. After meeting with his mom, she said that he would be staying with her from then on during the week and see his father on the weekends. This worked well until his mother moved to a new apartment that didn't have enough room for him, so he moved back into his father's girlfriend's apartment across town. I told his parents I would help out with transportation to make sure he could get to/from school. Thankfully, he's getting better grades and I spend lots of time sleeping on weekends.
In the beginning of the year when I was setting up the afterschool program, I had many meetings during odd times of the day when I would usually be teaching. This caused me to have to leave the classroom at random times and have my aide, Ms. C, take over the lesson. She's an excellent teacher, so I wasn't worried about the quality of instruction. I didn't think the kids would mind since they enjoy things being mixed up every once in a while. However, it was brought to my attention after a month or so of this that it wasn't alright for me to leave. Every time I walk out of the classroom, there is an uproar of, "Why are you always leaving us?" or "What do you need to do NOW?" or "Why do you always have meetings? Don't they know you're a TEACHER?" It broke my heart. I had broken my promise. I told them I would TEACH them every day. I told them I would be there, in my classroom, leading them down the road to reading. They expected me to be the rock in their day, what they could always count on to be there and be exactly the same if not better. This grew into attending sporting events. I missed half of a girls game and half of a boys game one evening because I had a dinner I needed to attend. I left half way through the girls game and went to dinner, then returned during the second half of the boys game. When the boys got in the car to go home, they talked about different things that happened during the game. At one point, MD says, "Ms. Walka, you should have seen it! I dominated! But you weren't there...." I was crushed. MD's parents never come to games, never see him play. I was the parent there for him. I was his biggest fan. And I had let him down. I thought they wouldn't notice that I was gone for half the game, but they were keenly aware of my location... which was not in that gym.
I could give infinite examples of how they counted on me to be the parent, the rock of their life. Many of them have wonderful, loving parents that just can't be there or be that rock. They work long hours, they move around a lot due to low wages, they can't get to the school because they don't have bus money, they have other kids that they need to take care of at home. So they ask me how the game went, how did their son/daughter do in school today, what does their child need? Because they expect me to be the rock in their child's life, the stable point on the horizon. I didn't realize my role had grown beyond teacher, it had turned into something way past education.
I can't remember every soccer game, basketball game, or lacrosse game that my mother was at, but I can remember the ones that she missed. The ones where I looked to the side line and couldn't find her. She always told me when she couldn't be there, but it didn't ease the pain. I wanted her to see me. Although she wasn't there in person, she was definitely there in spirit, cheering the loudest out of everyone else. She was at every school play, choral concert, speech contest, dance recital, and poetry contest. She clapped the hardest, cheered the loudest, and smiled the brightest. At least she did to me.
I know it made all the difference to have a rock like my mother in my life. It gave me the confidence to speak louder. It gave me the confidence to sing freer. It gave me the confidence to take risks and not be afraid to fall. It gave me the confidence to be me, because I knew that my rock was there, forever loving me for everything and anything I was. I could be a truly free spirit as long as I had my rock in my life.
It's important, while dancing, to find a point to focus on when you need to spot - if you don't spot you lose your balance and fall. Similarly, I hear if you don't keep your eye on the horizon you can get sea sick. I hope to be that steady, unwavering point for my students - because sea sickness is just the worst.
No comments:
Post a Comment