"My life is like a jail without bars..."

A jail without bars...

I can honestly say that I do not have "favorites". My deepest and most genuine wish for EVERY single one of my students is for them to achieve whatever goal(s) they have set for themselves. I will do whatever possible and necessary to help them "make it" to exactly where they want to go, and they know it. That being said, I am a firm believer that your heart "picks" people. I have several students that my heart has picked.
Heart picking... how do I describe that?
Have you ever felt an incredible connection with a person? One completely centered around your hope for their well-being? I don't really know how to explain it, however, I have several students that I know I will spend the rest of my life wondering about, hoping for, and praying about.

Picked.

One of those students is a young man who is repeating 8th grade...as a 15 year old. He has the opportunity to be re-evaluated and bumped up to high school in December, but for now, he is with me.

I watch every morning as he steadily and sheepishly slides through my door. He greets me with the same respectful but silent head nod. Some days I get a soft, "Mornin' Ma'am", or "Hey, Ms. Hall". I welcome him in with my overly enthusiastic, hyped-up-on-coffee, running-on-three-hours-sleep, "GOOD MORNING!"

Without fail, he cracks a smile. Every morning.

This young man has become a sort-of anchor for my 5th period class. I look to him to check the temperature of my other students. He has naturally placed (with a bit of friendly teacher prompting) himself in a leadership role, particularly impressive for a young man who knows that everyone else knows he has been held back. Most students who repeat grades are humiliated at the mention of their situation, and it is dihabilitating in the classroom. This student is enjoying the opposite experience. He has handled the entire situation with undeniable maturity, actively displaying his incredible resilience.
I could not have been more proud of him. Little did I know that I certainly could...

Our first class assignment was an "About Me" project. The students started with a "Memory Map", which they created to help them brainstorm the five most influential events/people that have made them who they are today. From there, we translated three of the biggest events into body paragraphs, added an introduction and conclusion, enjoyed (what was for many students, a first-time experience) peer-editing, and then turned in final copies of the "About Me" papers.

I cannot begin to describe what reading those papers did to my heart, my mind, my emotions. There was not a single part of me that went unchanged. I cried reading them. Some made me laugh, others left me with no words at all. Most were written grammatically on a second to third grade level, but the underlying themes of the papers were unlike any that even a typical ADULT would be able to write about!

I encouraged my kids to come up with a metaphor that was unique to their lives. I gave the overused example of a puzzle, with the pieces being events in their lives and the puzzle being their life as a whole. It took some pushing, but once they got it, it was incredible. My young anchor called me over and read me his first paragraph. He explained how he did not have much of a childhood and was exposed to everything from drugs to murder at a very young age. I actively fought back tears, knelt down beside his desk, and explained  how that is like walking into a kindergarten classroom without color! It makes no sense, and it isn't right! He paused, lowered his head, and gave me his silent nod. I left him to his work, and five minutes later his hand went up. I walked across the room, traced his first line with my finger and read, "my life is like a jail without bars..."

It was at that moment... from the mind of a 15 old boy, stuck in 8th grade, faced with things that most people will never (and should never) have to face...that a brand new fire was lit inside of me. I started practically running around the room trying to pull out of other students the same kind of emotion, thought, and creativity. Just like is always true, when you raise the bar, the kids go with it. Mine were no different.

"Ms. Hall! What about this? My life is like a family photo!"

"My life is like a bouquet of flowers..."

"My life is like a death sentence with no justice..."

"My life is like a chemistry experiment that is about to explode..."

"My life is like an unchained, untamed pit bull who has no collar..."

I looked around the room as my kids excitedly shared their lives with one another. The discussion was so genuine, so passionate, so eye-opening..not only for me, but for my kids, too! The impact was especially noticeable in my boys.
The girls seem to talk about many of the struggles they face, and are thus able to get it off their chests.
My boys don't. They hold it all in.
Reading one another's papers and hearing that someone else had to hold their baby sister while their dad punched their mom in the face "like she was a man", or that another student experienced and watched the death of their best friend at the hands of another gang, or lost a parent to death, jail or choice, created a feeling in that ordinary classroom that was anything but ordinary.

I feel like I am doing a horrible job describing the feeling, the moment. Honestly, maybe that is how it is meant to be. Perhaps it is one of the few feelings that is only able to be experienced.  My student's eyes actually looked different. Their posture changed. I would have done and given anything to protect that moment. I scrapped my lesson plan, we circled up the desks, and we kept talking!

A change happened that day... a real one. It might not have been objectively measurable, but I attest with my whole heart to the learning that took place.

It was an experience that happened thanks to the heart and the mind of a boy who was not even "supposed" to be there.

Perhaps the most selfish feeling I have ever had as a teacher, or person in general, is how grateful I am that he is in my class.

What a lesson. We worry so much about where we are going, while simultaneously forgetting to focus on, and appreciate, where we are. Whatever place you find yourself in in life...you have the opportunity to affect incredible change. You are there, and no where but there, for a REASON. You serve an incredible and immeasurable PURPOSE.

If you doubt that for a single second, there is a place called Warrenton, a school named Warren County Middle, a classroom labeled #414, an excitable 5th period class, and a single student who could show you in a one sentence, exactly what it means to serve a purpose.

“I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.”
                              - Og Mandino

Keep growing, Tremonte. Keep growing.