In August it seemed impossible to me that I would get to this point. The place where I would, in my new position, realize that I couldn’t save every student, that I would get here. It was never my intention to arrive at this destination, but here I am.
Most of my days are filled with contacting parents with questions, looking at student schedules, coming up with plans to make sure students are successful. Some days I do discipline when my assistant principal is out of the building and I never relish handing out punishment, though I do try to ensure that the punishment fits the crime. Some times my hands are tied and no matter how much I like a student I have to give them the necessary consequences. Other times I look at my numbers and write on a sticky note that I place directly in front of my desk the number of students I am in charge of and I watch that number fluctuate on a regular basis. Currently, I have 351 posted in my line of vision so that I can recall how many students I must watch over, check their grades, tell them that that was probably not their best effort and could they please give me 110% next quarter. This week I am calculating their GPAs and double-checking and re-checking to see who my top ten students are so that I can put their names up to display for all to see.
Next year, when I follow them to Sophomore year I will figure out who gets to take Driver’s Ed first and who needs to re-take courses they failed this year. There will be new things to learn and more students who come to me and more students whom I must call in for a Come To Jesus meeting. Those will never tire. I like them. At times, they are my favorite part of the day when I call them out of class, pull up their grades and tell them the expectations are, indeed, higher than they realized. That I anticipate they can do better. They can work harder, they can get support, I can give them options for tutoring and see them be as successful as they choose to be.
Today, however, I felt it. It was a new sensation and I felt sick afterward, but I had it nonetheless. The options for this student are limited and he’s doing everything to work against me. Since August he has been on home monitoring with an ankle bracelet and been in and out of juvenile detention three times. After failing first quarter and missing so many days I had no choice to have the Jesus meeting and convince him that he was now eligible for an after-school program. Doing that wasn’t fun, either, because he’s just the type of student I don’t want spending his days on the street and then doing school at 3:30. Since November he’s been in and out of that program so much that I’ve begun to recognize the voice of his parole officer since we talk so much on the phone about him.
After missing from after school for two weeks he showed up again today to re-enroll since he’s been detained. It’s required that he be in school according to his parole officer so he has no choice.
But today, there was no Come To Jesus.
There was no emotion from me.
There was a feeling of sheer fatigue on my part.
I’m tired. I can’t save him. He is my first. The one I realize that I cannot save. Naive, yes. Still.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
January 17, 2008 @ 3:49 pm | Filed under Education | Permalink |
TW Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 4:24 pm
Sigh. Lots of hugs.
Lovebabz Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 4:39 pm
Do what you do and continue to do it well. For some the lessons have to come from another place in another direction. God put you between the world and him….not for his sake, but for yours. You have to dig deep and continue on. You have no idea what you have done for him thus far and for those who are in witness to what you do. The gift will be unwrapped eons from now and you my dear will perhaps never know it. But trust that you and I and him are but ripples on the pond, each interconnected. You are doing God’s work. In the words of Adam Clayton Powell “keep the faith, baby”
dawn Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 4:42 pm
this moment is one of the hardest to handle. it never feels any better regardless of how often it might happen. I feel for you. I am teaching at the community college now and I do not miss those moments when you have a student you just can’t reach.
Hugs your way. Keep fighting the good fight for those whose lives haven’t been shattered beyond repair.
Mrs RW Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 4:57 pm
When I read this story it made me think of one I read earlier this week in the Nursing Spectrum. This isn’t meant to diminish your anguish at all, I guess what I was thinking that those us in “helping professions” will always have this moment of truth/awakening/whatever. It’s the bitter that comes with the sweet. But we can’t stop, because even one person is worth it. More than worth it.
Dana Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 5:09 pm
I don’t think you get enough credit for this difficult job that you perform. I’m so amazed with your perseverance, and I know that it must be heartbreaking to experience those feelings. I pray that it all works out for the better.
teebopop Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 5:55 pm
It’s quite possible that someday, a long time after he’s left your jurisdiction, he WILL get it. Someday he’s going to be sitting somewhere when the one phrase or turn of the word that he heard come out of your mouth is the only one he remembers. And it changes his life from that moment on and he becomes someone else’s hero.
So, don’t give up. Don’t think that your influence upon him was all for naught. There’s hope. As long as you did everything you possibly could then you have to believe that it will impact him. If not now, then some day in the future.
It does happen. Someday he’s going to walk back into your office as an adult and tell you what it meant to him that you never gave up. Or you’ll receive a letter from him or read about something about him in the newspaper that lets you know that you did not fail. And neither did he.
You have to live your life as though you know that THIS is the eventual outcome instead of what you fear right now, inside your heart. To feel anything less will surely impact each subsequent relationship with all those kids to follow after him.
Kelliqua Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 7:22 pm
My son was that one for quite a few teachers/counselors, even for me and my husband. He is a young adult now and please, please take to heart what tebopop above says.
My son is not out of the woods, he still has problems. But he has made progress and often reflects on those who encouraged/supported and/or challenged him to do and be better.
No, you can’t save them all and that is a terrible feeling, but don’t underestimate yourself and the impact you will leave on even the ones who seem “lost”.
Daisy Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 7:27 pm
Hugs to you. I could offer you platitudes like “You never know your impact,” but with this kid, you seem to know. Good wishes; I know you’ll touch many, many students.
Elizabeth Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 8:30 pm
That you feel sick to your stomach about this speaks volumes. Do the best you can with what you’ve got. Everything else is just death and taxes.
Kim Said,
January 17, 2008 @ 9:31 pm
I would be honored to work alongside you. The fact that you are hurt by the realization that you “can’t” save this kiddo speaks volumes about your heart.
anonymous Said,
January 18, 2008 @ 7:08 am
Well, first, your job sounds really wonderful. There is no one like this in our high schools. What a difference that would make. Second, you are not the Holy Spirit, just one of God’s workers. There may be a reason you are not supposed to save this one.
Bree Said,
January 18, 2008 @ 8:56 am
Maybe by the grace of God he will same himself…it may take time but I bet one day he’ll be tired of the way he’s living his life and change the path he’s on.
Moley Said,
January 18, 2008 @ 12:09 pm
Damn… just about says it all… Sigh..
Tricia Said,
January 19, 2008 @ 2:57 pm
I know that place. I recognize that place. I have been to that place. I don’t like that place.
And…
I agree with Teebopop.
*Even*if you read the tragic story in the paper next week, of his untimely death- you’ll know you did what you could (and probably more) and that’s the piece you will have to hold on to.
angie Said,
January 20, 2008 @ 12:59 pm
How frustrating. He needs prayer. I will pray for him.
Angela Said,
January 20, 2008 @ 6:07 pm
I, too, agree wholeheartedly with Teebopop. You’ve done everything you can, and you’ve made SUCH a difference for SO many of these kids. I’m sure that if your ears buzzed every time one of the kids sang your praises, you would be at the doctor complaining of a hefty case of tinnitus.
I’m convinced that this child will someday Get It. And he’ll have you to thank.
Sue Said,
January 20, 2008 @ 10:02 pm
Not naive… caring. Better to learn early this lesson. Try 14 years on the same kid and still ‘failure’. I finally stopped before it killed me. There are more kids who are savable than not. Don’t let the few get you down.
Karyn Said,
January 21, 2008 @ 6:31 pm
Hugs.
Jen M Said,
January 23, 2008 @ 1:07 pm
I agree - you may not know it but I’ll bet you are impacting this young man in a positive way.