"Grandamaaaaa!!!!" she howled.
Our school has a parent initiated attempt to get the students to walk or ride their bikes to school, instead of taking the bus or riding in a car. Our district is only four miles wide. One parent really wants to make sure the children of the Housing Authority are included and arrives at school around 6:30 in the morning, picks up teachers that are willing to be there, and drives us over to the apartments to walk with them to school.
I've been meeting her for over a year. She ran up to me and hugged me.
"Hey...", I said, putting my coffee cup in the holder of her car, "um, Friday is my last day...I'm leaving....".
Taisha had on cute flats.
"Why didn't you wear tennis shoes? It's Walk and Roll?" some of the muslim girls asked.
I work with Taisha after school. She's in my group. My fucked up giant group of sixteen. She's a star. Immaculate, clothes and hair clean, presenting in the best way. No one has to know she lives in the projects, because her parents have made sure they don't know. And, she works and acts accordingly. Until, Tuesday morning.
"BUY ME SOME FOOD!" Myla screamed as we walked past the gas station. Another boy grabbed a gas pump and threw it on the ground.
They yelled. They screamed. The walked in people's yards. They talked about the bikes that were unsecured, the houses they would rob.
I worked. Taught my classes, attended meetings, packed my things. Felt sweaty and gross all day. Graded papers. Went back to the Housing Authority that night to tutor.
"They went fucking crazy on the visitors last Friday... screaming, demanding food, grabbing shit. Their names are on the board."
Out of the sixteen students in my group, ten of their names were on the board. The ones that were not on the board had been absent.
"You all have debased yourselves." I said quietly.
"You have acted under what you are."
"No one bangs on the table and begs for food."
"I didn't do that! It wasn't me!" Zoey and Tamira screamed.
"Did I say Zoey or Tamira? Whoever did it, I don't want to know. I don't want to know because I don't want to think of you that way and you're better than that."
I left, feeling tired, dirty and defeated. Laaida jumped out from behind a neighboring car, all sixth grade of her burka wearing self.
"Hey! I thought this was your car!" she laughed, even though she was by the wrong car. The other white teacher's car.
"I wanted to surprise you!"
I watched my students jump on top of a utility box and do our school's chant. They saw me, and did it louder. I wanted to film them, send it to my boss, show how great they were. But, she's a dick and doesn't deserve to see it.
I smiled and clapped, phone in my pocket, and got in Alec's car and drove away.
What you said to those kids is amazing and encouraging and uplifting. Perhaps some will rise to it, but all will feel better about themselves because of your belief in them.
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