There's Only so Much

Today some of my former students came to visit me. I always start off so happy to see them-- especially those I haven't seen in a while, or those I know had the potential of falling into the wrong future.

After today, I especially needed to hear something good. Why? Well, I finally made it to the wall. We have this joke at school that you're not a real teacher or administrator until some kid's written something shitty about you in the bathroom.

Well, yesterday was my day. One of my first hour students took spray paint and grafitti'd up the whole boys' bathroom before school. Not only did it list the top suspected gay kids at school (which goes to show you 1) our kids are insanely homophobic and 2) these are the kids that are teasing HIM about being gay.) but also wrote either "Miss J is a boring bitch," or "Miss J is a horny bitch." Honestly, from the sprawl, I couldn't tell which it said. Additionally, I don't know which offends me more.

So, this morning, while my AP told me this, laughing and thinking it was hilarious, as I quietly fumed, I thought-- I pour my SOUL into you. My SOUL. All my time. And this is what I get? Yeah, yeah. I know. It shouldn't bother me. But it does. It's one thing to write that I have a big ass. Its another thing to make it seem like I don't care. What's worse is that I feel like the rest of the kids, if they knew.... would maybe agree. Again, I should stop beating myself up. But its hard.


So, after school, still feeling exhausted, insulted and overwhelmed (you'd think by year 5 nothing would shock or upset me.....) three of my babies came in. The first is a girl, who in 7th grade, was a real piece of work. Super low academically, and a diva to the extreme. I was a little worried about having her, but she turned out to be totally awesome. Academically....still low, but the girl never gave up and always came in with a good attitude. I respected that so much.

After a bit of small talk, she admitted that she'd come for a reason, but she was afraid to tell me.

"C, you know I might not like it, but I'm going to love you anyway. Its okay."
"Well, Miss J, I was at this party. And there was drinking and smokin, so I got to be drinking and smokin' and then I went home with my boyfriend and well, now.... I'm pregnant."

No sigh. No look of judgment. Just questions:
What's your plan? You have someone to help you through this? How do you feel about it? Are you afraid? Have you seen a doctor? What are you going to do about school? Is the father a part of your life? Is your family supportive?

She has plans, she told me. She lives with the father's family already, and they're supportive. Plus, she's got family in LA, so she's going to go there and get into singing and modeling. Oh, and K? That tiny girl from my homeroom who was saucy and spritely and so, so smart? Yeah. She had a baby girl.

Then B chimed in, trying to cover the new tattoo he got on his wrist. It says his mom's name "Rosa."

"I saw it already, B."
"Are you mad at me?"
"What am I going to do about it? You guys are all going to look like you're 60 when you're 30."
"From partying too much, huh?"
"You got it. Besides, B, I thought you hated your mom...."
"I do but my dad's going to jail for 4 years, and she's still my mom.... I'm going to get his name tattooed on my other wrist."
"Drug stuff?"
"Nah, he got rid of those charges."
"For the drunk driving stuff?"
"No, he got out of that too. It's cuz he won't pay child support."
"Do you see him? Does he ever support you in other ways?"
"Well, yeah, we were going to switch the custody to him, but mom and my sister brought violence charges against me so....."
"Why won't he pay?"
"Well, my mom will just spend the money on other stuff, not us... so he doesn't want to give it to her. Oh also-- I'm going to run away."
"Do you have a safe place to go, B?"

Yeah. He's already staying in the house of two other former students who are regularly into cocaine.


Then the third. The nicest, sweetest, most helpful child you've ever met. Dimples, and shiny dark hair-- A is a teddy bear of a human being. She has two younger siblings, Joel who's in 4th grade, and a little sister who is 5.

"A please tell me your life is better...."

She burst into tears and shook her head.
"He's going to leave, Miss J. He's going to leave!"
"Your dad? Back to Mexico?"

A tearful nod. She is legal, so is the rest of her family. But her dad's work visa had expired and he'd stayed. Now, he's not.

"Are you worried about your younger siblings?"
"Miss J, they're going to grow up without a dad!"
"Does he have a place to go? Do you have family? Will he have a job?"
"Yeah. He'll have a taxi."
"How's your mom? Trying to be strong?"

I just stood there and hugged her. This girl, this gem, with this wonderful, loving, hard-working family. This model family. Falling apart before her eyes.

"When he goes, I don't know when we'll see him again."



I looked at all three of them. I stared at my alumni wall as they filled me in on others who'd dropped out, gone missing, were drugged up or pregnant.

"I wish I could keep you all in 8th grade forever. Keep you and protect you from everything," I said.


The younger grade level teachers don't understand how hard this is. The 6th grade science teacher (who is beyond awesome) was convincing me that I was a super star teacher the other day, when all I could think is this-is-so-hard-this-is-so-hard..... But even he can't possibly understand. When his kids leave, they may turn into horrid 7th graders, but by the time they REALLY leave..... they're out of sight, out of mind. He has a new crew he's bonded with.

With 8th grade its different.
One year, they are in your nest.
The next, eaten by the world.

I am so grateful they still come, still tell me, still know I care. But as soon as I'm home, it shatters me.


My administrator laughs when kids call me a bitch.
And mocks the kids who love me and want to come see me.

They can't win. I can't either.



There's only so much tragedy I can take.