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Yesterday at Walmart a young lady approached me in the parking lot. This young lady held herself like she'd been raised with the Rockefellers and spoke with confidence. When she asked if my name was Ms. Mathenerd, I had a glimmer of recognition. She was a former student.
For those who don't know me well (which is most of you) I used to teach 7th grade. I taught in one of the most violent ghettos in one of the roughest cities in the US. These are the kids that the country has given up on. They live in poverty, surrounded by drugs, gangs and violence. Sometimes, the only meals they eat are the ones provided by the school. Many have mothers who gave birth as teens and fathers who are in jail. Others are the children of poor immigrants, or just poor people working three jobs to give their kids a better life. The end result is the same: the kids are left unattended for hours, free to roam the streets and get in trouble. And then the cycle repeats itself.
So, you can imagine how shocked I was when I saw this young lady yesterday. She made it out. She was obviously doing well, and I was ecstatic. I'm always thrilled to see my former students doing well. Little did I know the best was yet to come. I asked her about her life and she told me that she really buckled down, and in her Jr. year she was admitted to a special program run by a community college around here. This program allows the students to do their last two years of high school and their first two years of college at the same time, graduating with both a high school diploma and an associates degree at the same time. She completed the program with honors. She then finished her undergrad, also with honors and is now set to begin law school in the fall. I was almost jumping out of my shoes with excitement for her. This is one of those Cinderella stories that never happen in real life. But even with that, the best was yet to come.
You see, near the end of the conversation, she looked at me and said "You know, Ms Mathnerd, I'd have never finished school if it weren't for you. You were a tough teacher, but you were fair. You made us work hard, but you liked us. Not many teachers like kids like us. You didn't just teach math, you taught us that we were "better than that" (a common phrase I use when a kid is acting up), and that we could have a better life, but we just had to work for it. Every time I wanted to quit, I heard your voice saying <studentname> you're better than this, keep working at it and you'll get it. "
It took every ounce of self control not to fall apart crying right there in the middle of Walmart. I always said that if even one student came back and told me that she was a better person because of me, then all the shit that comes along with teaching was worth it. It's worth it. I know this for a fact now. And dammit, it feels really, really good.
For those who don't know me well (which is most of you) I used to teach 7th grade. I taught in one of the most violent ghettos in one of the roughest cities in the US. These are the kids that the country has given up on. They live in poverty, surrounded by drugs, gangs and violence. Sometimes, the only meals they eat are the ones provided by the school. Many have mothers who gave birth as teens and fathers who are in jail. Others are the children of poor immigrants, or just poor people working three jobs to give their kids a better life. The end result is the same: the kids are left unattended for hours, free to roam the streets and get in trouble. And then the cycle repeats itself.
So, you can imagine how shocked I was when I saw this young lady yesterday. She made it out. She was obviously doing well, and I was ecstatic. I'm always thrilled to see my former students doing well. Little did I know the best was yet to come. I asked her about her life and she told me that she really buckled down, and in her Jr. year she was admitted to a special program run by a community college around here. This program allows the students to do their last two years of high school and their first two years of college at the same time, graduating with both a high school diploma and an associates degree at the same time. She completed the program with honors. She then finished her undergrad, also with honors and is now set to begin law school in the fall. I was almost jumping out of my shoes with excitement for her. This is one of those Cinderella stories that never happen in real life. But even with that, the best was yet to come.
You see, near the end of the conversation, she looked at me and said "You know, Ms Mathnerd, I'd have never finished school if it weren't for you. You were a tough teacher, but you were fair. You made us work hard, but you liked us. Not many teachers like kids like us. You didn't just teach math, you taught us that we were "better than that" (a common phrase I use when a kid is acting up), and that we could have a better life, but we just had to work for it. Every time I wanted to quit, I heard your voice saying <studentname> you're better than this, keep working at it and you'll get it. "
It took every ounce of self control not to fall apart crying right there in the middle of Walmart. I always said that if even one student came back and told me that she was a better person because of me, then all the shit that comes along with teaching was worth it. It's worth it. I know this for a fact now. And dammit, it feels really, really good.
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