"I ain't even white." |
Today we had to have another one of those staff meetings... One of those meetings where we all sit around and are told the "need-to-know-basis" information. The information that the principal thinks her staff must understand in order to best service her students. She's completely right. I wish she wasn't. I wish I never had to have another one of these effing "just so you know" meetings ever again.
I am angry. I am tired. I am tired of listening to the facts pile up against my students. We talked about one of our homeless students today. How this student needs a place to sleep this weekend... particularly because it's going to be in the 30's overnight. No. I don't want to hear it again. I don't want to hear about how he was kicked out of his "aunt's" house, doesn't speak with his biological parents, and has no money for food, let alone shelter. Ok, sure. A homeless student comes with the territory of working in a hood in Southwest Philadelphia. That's what you could say. Well, yeah... one homeless student makes sense. The Department of Health and Human Services uses this as the definition of homeless: "A homeless person is an individual without permanent housing who may live on the streets; stay in a shelter, mission, single room occupancy facilities, abandoned building or vehicle; or in any other unstable or non-permanent situation." Want to know how many of our students fit that description to our knowledge? 67. Out of approximately 130. Half. 50%. Couch-hopping. Shelter-living. Streets-sleeping. Family-rotating. I'm done. I'm so mad. Why? Why are my 16-22 year old babies living like this? Why couldn't we have gotten to them sooner? Why couldn't I have been there to take them to first grade? Why couldn't I have taught them about condoms? Or drugs? Or love? Or self-confidence? Or the importance of a high school diploma? Or that they have a purpose? For each student, my anger is directed at a different source, depending on the background. Sometimes I'm mad at a parent or guardian. Sometimes I'm mad at their elementary school teachers. Sometimes I'm mad at the system. Sometimes I'm mad at the student themselves. Most of the time... I'm just mad. I don't have enough money. Enough jobs. Enough time. Hands. Heart. Energy. Brain. I never have enough. There is so much need. And you know what? I know people who could help. When I say "know people", I mean I come from a community of business owners and successful, upper-middle class families. I could count on one hand the people who would ever give my students a chance at a job. They're culture is unfamiliar. They may be rough around the edges. But they're smart. We're too removed. By we, I mean the white and wealthy. I was one of them. I am one of them. I'm still learning... I'm learning that the people who have money will always win because they have a better education. I can't educate my students if I can't buy text books. Or paper. Or buy them damn laundry detergent because they haven't gotten to wash their uniforms in a week and a half. Would you want to go to Spanish class if you hadn't eaten in 2 days? I wouldn't. (And don't get me started on the quality of free school lunches...) I'm not saying that my students haven't made poor decisions. My goodness, have they. But I am saying... maybe they wouldn't have if they had access to better education in kindergarten, 3rd grade, 6th grade... How do you make informed decisions? With information. Where do you get your information? For me, it was on a comfy carpet square. For my students, it's on a cold concrete one. And I don't know how fair that is.
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AuthorA young woman trying to figure out why she matters and where she belongs in a struggling, urban culture. CategoriesArchives
November 2016
All stories, opinions, and suggestions are written strictly by the author of this blog, and do not reflect the opinions or stance of Communities in Schools of Philadelphia.
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