Fighting the Good Fight

I heard some sad news this week that the valedictorian at the high school where I used to teach was murdered.  My heart goes out to both the staff and the students at this school.

After 7 years of working in this impoverished, urban school district, I am still shocked when I hear this kind of news.  I shouldn't be.  It seems that every year multiple students in our district are the victims of violent crime.  In the years that I was in the classroom, I had 5 students who were killed and 4 others who were shot, but luckily, survived.  

I'll never forget the evening I was watching the news as I was grading papers and I saw the picture of one of my favorite students flash across the screen.  He had been shot multiple times in the back seat of a car.  His little sister was also in the car but survived because her older brother had pushed her on the floor and laid on top of her.  This young man was not an easy student, but, somehow, I won him over.  He loved biology, and every day, he was the first student in my room for our 7th hour class.  I adored this kid.  He drove me crazy, but his enthusiasm for science was contagious.  I remember giving his folder of papers to his mother at his funeral so she could see all of his good grades. Two years later, his little sister came into my class proving to be another challenge.  A week into school I pulled her aside.  I think she thought was I going to yell at her and try to check her on her behavior.  Instead, I told her how much I cared for her brother...how much he loved science...and how much I missed him after he was gone.  I could never possibly understand what this girl had gone through, but I hoped I could at least show her that I cared.  After that conversation, she became one of my best students, and I looked forward to seeing her each and every day.

I have numerous stories like this.  I had students who came to school after being held at gunpoint the night before.  I had students who were raped and beaten.  I had students who were homeless.  I knew several students who were in gangs.  As a teacher, I often struggled while trying to navigate the world my students lived in.  There was no way I could possibly relate to living in the midst of that kind of violence.  I also struggled to figure out how to make them care about biology....because really, let's face it, if you don't even have a home, caring about biology seems pretty pointless.

I learned pretty quickly though that it wasn't what I taught that mattered.  What really mattered was that my students knew that I cared about them.  And if I was lucky, I could provide 50 minutes in their day when they felt valued and safe.  That became my mission.  I wanted them to know that I loved them...and perhaps, my class would be a bright spot in their day.  

It wasn't easy.  Being a teacher is never easy....much less working in a community where violence prevails.  

My friends and family feared for my safety, but the truth is, I never really felt unsafe.  Whatever violence was around me, it wasn't about me.  Rather than being fearful, I chose to focus on what was in my control....which was my classroom.  I tried to set high expectations for learning and to provide a safe, healthy, fun environment for my students. 

If nothing else, my experience taught me that we never know what others are going through.  There were days when a student would come in and he or she would be angry and insubordinate.  Rather than getting angry myself, I tried to find out what was going on...I would pull the student aside and would simply ask if everything was okay.  The things that came out of those conversations were a major reality check for me.  I often discovered that the student was dealing with some tragic incident.  I like to think that they came to school on those days not because they wanted to, but because it provided a place for them to feel safe and secure and to escape the pain that they were feeling.

I had an Assistant Principal who used to say that we must "keep fighting the good fight".  There are many times, even now, where that mantra gets me through my day.  

Tonight, as I think of my colleagues and their students, I'm reminded of why I became a teacher.  I used to tell my students that education was their key to a better life.  I would preach to them that they must learn to advocate for themselves, and you can only be an advocate if you are informed. 

The simple truth is that I'm a teacher because I love kids...and beyond that, I believe that education is the greatest gift we can give ourselves and give one another.  

So tonight, I want to thank all of the educators out there who are passionate and truly care for their students...who spend their days and their nights working relentlessly to make the world a better place.

Thank you for continuing to fight the good fight.