My Class

When I was in second grade, I wanted to be a teacher. My teacher, Mrs. Bock, I loved her! I could honestly say that about all my elementary teachers. Even Mrs. Eschenheimer who I was warned was a terrible, mean lady with bad breath because she smoked; I ended up really liking her.

Teachers have the opportunity to make a difference on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. It is an underappreciated job, but I don't think it matters once you see what can be accomplished.

I know I never went to school to be a teacher. Most of what I know I have learned by being a mom, or read in a book. I know I could do so much more if I went to school, but I no longer think being a teacher the rest of my life is what I want to do.

That said, I dedicate this post to the kids I teach everyday at the daycare. They are mostly 5 and 6. I get a few who are off track from their year-round school. The daycare is located in a lower income area. Because of this, these kids experience things that most kids don't.

One child came to me one morning all excited and said, "Teacher, Teacher! My dad almost made it across the border!" I was a little taken back by what he had just said and asked him to repeat himself. He went on to tell me how his dad had been sent back to Mexico and that he was trying to get across the border.

"He has to get $500 and then he can get someone to take him across. But he has to watch out for the _____ (word in Spanish for border patrol, I do not remember it). They are bad men who will shoot you. " As I sat amazed that this 6 year old had to deal with this, he continued by demonstrating what his father must do if he gets caught by the guards. He put his hands on the back of his head, keeled down, and then sprawled out on the ground!

I was speechless. All I managed to say was, "Angel, I hope your dad makes it across the border. I know you are waiting to see him."

There are a couple girls, Dezi and Alli, who hang out with me at recess instead of playing. We talk or they just run around me. They are best friends. When one is not there, the other is lost. Alli and I were talking one day and something she said struck me weird.

"Teacher, today is plasma day."

The way she said it is what shocked me the most. It was so normal and just seemed to be a regular day in her schedule.

"Plasma day? What is that?"

"My dad has to go to this bank where they have plasma. We don't have money."

She didn't really understand, but I sure did. Her dad was selling his blood plasma. I donate blood every 8 weeks because I choose to. Sometimes I think I should try donating plasma because I have never done it. I am grateful I have that choice.

I could go on about how terrible the situations are for many of the kids in my class. We have refugees from Africa who have experienced violence that I probably couldn't imagine. It shows in how they react to each other and to others. There is a little girl who struggles with her anger because she receives punishment by her mother's hand, and then the mother wonders why her daughter is out of control.

I also have a student who is autistic, but his parents are in denial. When I first came to the school he would just sit in the corner, covering his ears because it was so loud. I tried all I could do to make some sort of connection with him. I thought I wasn't making any progress, but one day he decided to come sit down and paint. He painted for 5 seconds. That was it. Then another day he came and painted for at least 5 minutes. He will now answer back to me when I ask him questions. Usually the answer is, "Yeah." Last week I was changing the calendar and he came and helped me. We counted the numbers and he hung the number up after I put tape on it.

It is so rewarding to watch these kids who once struggled progress. It is nice to know you helped in that progress. This job is at many times so trying. A lot of days it takes all that is in me not to scream. I know if I do, trust will be lost in me.

I say a prayer every morning for my little class. I ask that they will be calm. I also ask for the strength I need to listen to the Spirit. I know this is the only way I can make it through the day with out crying and wanting to curl up in the corner, covering my own ears.