Happy Birthday!

I love my job. I really, really do.

I got to work today and as soon as I got to the planning office, I noticed roses (Colombian roses of death, but it's the thought that counts) on the table. S. informed me that one of my students - "a really pretty little girl with olive skin" - had dropped them off for me and that they'd also brought ice cream cake. I.C. dropped off some cupcakes, A.A. brought chocolates, my girl, A. brought me a gift and a card that brought tears to my eyes. I.D. brought me the kind of mildly inappropriate card that only she could bring, 1st block signed a card for me, and A.R. gave me his soccer t-shirt. As I was leaving work, my heart was full - I have some truly amazing students, not to mention that my coworkers brought three kinds of cake to choose from.

So anyway, I had to leave work relatively early (before 3! It's a miracle!) to make it to the DC United game, and as I was walking across the parking lot, I noticed four cake-shaped balloons stuck to my car. I stopped in my tracks and looked again: no, really, it was my car. I hurried over, saw the card taped to the window, the ribbons decorating it, and the "Happy Birthday" sign on the windshield. W., E., and J. had decorated my car for me and written me a little card. I remembered how I'd gotten on J. for being in the bathroom so long (I asked if he'd fallen into the toilet) and realized that he must've been out there working on that....
No sé, pero me impactó tanto que hubieran hecho eso que lloré. I seriously cried because it really touched me that they'd do something like that.

I sat in the card and thought, "THIS is what I'll miss." My hero, Mr. Barber, always used to tell us that life was all about RELATIONSHIPS. And he'd kind of bounce around as he said that word, like it was all there was to know. Relationship with God, with Christ, with one another, with people in need.... I have that at work. I have these RELATIONSHIPS, these connections. These are kids that I've invested in, that I've lost sleep for, that I've prayed for. I have felt like those moments in the classroom, after school, during passing periods have been this incredible ministry for me. And I mean that not in the preachy, overtly Evangelical sense, but rather in a way that has given so many of these kids a sense of their worth. I like to think that I gave them a reason to be proud of their heritage, of their other language, of their brown skin, of their accents.... I hope I've given them a reason to fight for what they want and some tools to do so. I hope I gave them someone with whom they could identify: young, brown, bi-cultural, bilingual, and successful.

I was reading the A2's exams and many of them (I'd had them for three years) thanked me for specific things. I was so proud reading W.'s essays: she still has a lot of errors, but there were complete sentences without a single word in English. I could just picture her working and working to get things right.... S. said something about how she learned so much about her own culture because of our class....

J. gave me an article awhile back about the lack of male African-American teachers in schools and the impact that has on African-American students. It was an interesting read, and I could see how some of these same issues translated across ethnic lines. There's a real need for minority teachers, and if they're male, so much the better. These kids are hungry for someone to tell them their own story, to give their lives academic validity, to tell them that someone like them can also make it. I've seen and heard so much from educators - good people who mean well but don't understand - we need teachers who will fight for and defend these kids, who will give a voice to the voiceless.

This took a turn that I hadn't been expecting, but I guess it's what I needed to say today. Do I think I'll go back to education? Someday. In a different capacity, perhaps, or maybe back in the classroom. Sólo Dios sabe. But I am grateful - beyond grateful - for these past three years.