I wasn't prepared for that

     On my second day of teaching (yes, literally my 2nd day of teaching), I had a student,Walter, throw a chair, called me a b%&$^, and bite me.  He was five.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  That same year one of my students watched her mother almost beaten to death by her father.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  My third year teaching, I had a student, a 6th grader, hospitalized after her grandmother had given her a "at home" abortion.  Yes, she was pregnant -at age 11.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  My fifth year teaching, I had a student die in a fire at home.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  My sixth year teaching, I had a child lose his mother unexpectantly and no family wanted him.  He was ripped away from us and into foster care so I never saw him again.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  In the last class I taught, I had a student ask me if I’d ever thought about suicide because she was going to do it that that night.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  I fully believe that we are where we are for a certain purpose.  Call it a higher calling, predestination, fate, or dumb luck.  I believe we are where we are at any given moment because we are supposed to be.  I was not prepared for any of the situations-the horrible ones described previously-or many others such as teaching literacy to a classroom made up of high flyers and non readers and a little of everything in between, math or science when I came out of college with a teacher’s certificate in hand thinking I was an expert on all things education.  I had a desire however and I have picked up a lot of knowledge along the way.  While I had not been prepared, I made it through each one of those situations. Sometimes I used my mentors, my principal, my faith, and/or my team. I handled each moment, some better than others. Sure, I had surges of doubting my abilities to teach difficult students in difficult situations but never, not once did I ask to be rid of my student or wish that I didn’t have him/her.  You see, while I was never prepared, I knew that I was, for the most part, all many of those children had. 

     Last week I went to the yellow mall and stupidly left my interior lights on and came back to a dead battery.  I did what every wife does during football season and called her husband to come rescue her. As I waited, cars would pull up and I would think it was him only to be disappointed when it wasn’t his truck.  But when I finally did see his truck and three faces all beaming at me from the interior, I felt such relief.  I was safe and I knew they would fix my problems (well, I kinda knew-my hubby can heal you but he isn’t that great at the handy man stuff) and I’d be home in no time.  You see for your most troubled students, you are that savior. Many of them have had others in and out of their life-like the glimmer of hope those cars provided for me in the parking lot. For your most troubled students,  you are the one constant in their lives.  This doesn’t make it easy. I know how hard it can be for you and your other kids.  Walter, the biter, never made it fun that first year.  I cried many afternoons alone in my classroom. I cried many afternoons on the way home, to my friends, to my mentors, to my principal.  I wondered if I even wanted to teach.  I wish I could give you a great success story on Walter but I can’t.  I can give you a success story on his teacher.  I never gave up on him.  I wasn’t prepared for that.