Grant Us Grace

They're angry and today my free-writing assignment was to see why that is so. "The only reason I get mad is because..." was their topic. I'm beginning to use the Wex approach in my class so there's no talking for at least the first five minutes that we begin our activity. The answers most of the children gave are astounding. There's a lot of hurt in these kids. It's no wonder they can't focus in my English & Language Arts class.

Some of them grew up without fathers, mothers, or a real place to call home. Some of them have been separated from siblings at early ages because of the adoption system. One child detailed how she knew her brother's address but was forbidden from seeing him because of the law. I'm not sure I am fluent enough in the legal system to know which form of bureaucracy prevents her from seeing her estranged family member, but part of my heart breaks for these children every day.

I tried having a conversation with my roommate about it, but he had a somewhat dismissive attitude towards them. Roughly put, he said my kids would never be able to be productive members of society because their skills were too low and their tempers too high.

And I hurt. I wept in the deep regions of my soul because I want these kids to have hope against naysayers like that.

While at my alma matter's homecoming some of my colleagues said that our children are "aggressed." And I think that is the proper term for it. Many of them have always been at ends with life. They have been at war with poverty, starvation, neglect, abandonment, and others like themselves among a realm of other issues.

The argument I made with my roommate was simple. They showed up. In spite of their depression or their anger and self-loathing for things that were not their fault they showed up, with expectancy in their hearts. They showed in spite of the fact that they didn't want to be here. They showed up because something inside of them is looking for an escape and a way out. And they want a chance to feel.....something other than pain.

I have a few kids who are so angry all the time that--wait let me rephrase that. I have a few students who are in so much pain sometimes that they can't focus on their work. Some come to class and insist that they don't feel like it or cannot do their work now. Some come in and go to sleep because it is the quietest place in their life that they can afford a few moments to let their guard down and catch a little shut eye. Sometimes I wake them, but today I let him keep his head down. It never occurred to me that where you sleep every night there's not even a bed for you. A lot of them look "normal." However, inside they're crying out for help.

I want to be a good teacher. I want to reach them. I just have to find a way to get through.