A New School, A New Abuse

I couldn't take it anymore. I don't think I can pinpoint exactly what made me throw up my hands in surrender. It really was a culmination of things. But, if I am really, really honest with myself it is because Solomon was shot in the head. He lived. But, he is not alive. I visited him in the hospital, and I cried like I never cried before. Harder than I did when my first baby miscarried. Seeing him there in the hospital, remembering his smile and his determination in completing the most difficult of crossword puzzles, and watching him stare into space. It was too much. I held his hand, and just cried. And as I went to leave, he gripped my hand. A death grip. But, I couldn't. A 9th grader, a drop out, a drain on the economy, a boy. I pulled myself out of his death grip, kissed him on the forehead and told him to get better and do better. And then everything unraveled for me. The ridiculous amounts of paperwork that kept me up until 12:30 at night, up at 4:30 am, just to hear teachers maligned by...everybody. It got to be too much.

I left. I fled, actually. To the cozy comforts of my daughter's Catholic school. Now I am the director of special education, working with the children of friends. And there's a whole other sort of abuse that goes on. I don't worry about these children on the streets. I don't worry about them being abused. But, boy are they coddled and nothing is their fault. I reprimanded a student for talking rudely too me. It was a horrible reprimand. I reminded her that she is a student, and I am a teacher and she needs to speak with respect, then told her good-bye and to have a nice afternoon. The next day her mother was waiting for me to discuss the interaction. This is par for the course. Virtually every parent at this school feels they can know better than teachers because they have all sat in classrooms.

And I still have my ghetto fight in me. If anything, that kind of "blame the teacher" attitude steels me for being vigilante. Because I don't care about my job. But, I do care about my students. And I will do what is best for them as I see fit as a professional educator regardless of the setting I am in.

Being a grown up can be so hard. Being a parent is tricky. If you pay a tuition to send your kids to a school, it is my humble opinion that you trust the professionals. And if you don't, leave the school.