Today was a teacher planning day. I was running late… as usual. I had a student coming in at 8:00 am to write a paper which I was dreading. This young man has something going on. Others say he’s lazy, but I say otherwise. I feel as though he is shutting down. I pledged to myself to work on him today. If only I could get him to let me in.
As soon as I arrived I immediately signed onto the computer and was surprised to find a message waiting for me from another student, “Can you drop me bac home” There was no question mark and the “k” was missing. And other than the return email address, it was not signed.
There are days when I wonder if I am in the right place. God would not have made the transition go so smoothly if I weren’t. But that does not mean I like where I was lead. As I sit up until four in the morning grading papers that make me question my effectiveness in class, I yearn for the weekly mini vacations to Los Angeles, Miami, and London. I have replaced my favorite restaurant “Le Bistro Champetre” dans le soixante arrondissement in Paris, with homemade lunch in plastic Chinese food containers. No more tours of German castles and boat rides in Zurich. That all stopped abruptly when I traded my flight attendant uniform for fuzzy warm sweaters and a drafty classroom.
But then there is that email. Why would she show up without any confirmation that I would even be there? And though the students had the day off, she choose to come up to the school and look for extra work from all of her teachers. I have always believed that teaching is not just about the grades, nor the information that we impart. For some students, it is the place they come to get what others receive at home. I may no longer have a window seat on the world, but I have a young lady who trusts me unconditionally to be there for her.
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