I have to tell you about Anna (obviously, not her real name). She’s been haunting my every thought lately.

She’s missed 47 days of school this year. Last year she missed 35 so she’s far surpassed the truancy of her freshman year. The thing is, Anna is still a freshman. She has 1.25 credits and by this time students her age have 9 so she’s probably going to be a freshman again next year.

Anna is also very pretty. This isn’t really of importance except to say that I think a lot of her self worth is tied up in that. But she’s also very shy and when the boys make comments to her or ogle her I can tell she is more than uncomfortable with it. In fact, what she does is get this mixed look on her face that resembles being appreciated for her looks and also being a little disgusted by the fact that she is viewed as an object.

She has one little brother and lives with her mom. I know who she hung out with at the beginning of this school year and was hopeful she’d end that friendship because it was a damaging one for her. She was either tardy or skipping school every day and on the days when I had time to catch up with her she showed little remorse and even less of wanting to make significant changes.

Anna’s mom has left me so many voicemail messages that I know their home phone number by heart. She’s requested help. Actually, the correct word for it is begged. She begged for help with her daughter and I couldn’t do much except offer suggestions and remind her mom that Anna makes her own decisions and will suffer whatever consequences that I dole out to her. Each time I put her in the in-house suspension room she skipped out again. When I tried to make her serve detentions she simply didn’t show up. Finally, we got to the point where I had to suspend her if I was to follow the progressive discipline we use. I hated doing that because I was certain she was just going to stay home and get high with her friends.

When I would call her into my office to talk there were moments when I’d see a flicker of resentment towards me for actually following through with punishment. Soon, though, she softened and I hoped that I wasn’t going to start caring too much for this girl. This is, I have learned, a futile attempt on my part. My heart always softens towards the kids who want to make a change but then can’t or won’t.

Anna is also a mixed race girl. She pulls her long, almost-black hair back in a bun that doesn’t reveal the beautiful curls I know are there. She wears absolutely no makeup and it just about kills me that she looks so naturally pretty like that. Jeans and a hoodie are her uniform. There are folders and notebooks in her hands but I know they are empty. Occasionally, I will see a book. A novel or something that I highly doubt she actually checks out from the library. She borrows it all right. But not the way she’s supposed to and yet I can’t help feeling glad that she’s actually reading.

Anna is a hard case to figure out. At least she was until the day when her mom pleaded with me to call her absentee father and force him to come to school to discuss her behavior and truancy. She had given me the number to her father’s parents because he didn’t have a phone. It broke my heart to find out why that was.

The grandmother answered the phone and I had to explain who I was and why I was calling and I asked if she could put me in contact with Anna’s father. Despite getting a random call from school she was extraordinarily polite and calmly explained that Anna’s father doesn’t own a phone, nor does he pay his own bills nor does he own a car. He is mentally unstable and they collect his social security to pay the bills on his small house. He rides a bike around town and sometimes he recognizes Anna. Other times he ignores her because…well. He is pretty ill.

It’s not the best part of my job to find ways to break a kid. Sometimes I know it’s a necessary evil and that until that happens everything I’m saying is falling on deaf ears. At least Anna wanted to come talk to me and on the dozen or so instances where I could get her to make it to my office before sneaking out a side door to go abuse drugs with her friends she was always polite and always nodded at my suggestions that she serve her punishments and then (to kill a phrase and let me tell you, I KILL THIS PHRASE WITH MY STUDENTS) to “get it together”.

None of the consequences of her behavior worked on her. She had to simply serve 2 full days of in-house suspension and I knew she wouldn’t get through it. This conversation was going to be a repeat of what I’d already tried to do with her and it wasn’t going to work. Nothing was getting through to her. When I called her in my office I anticipated the compliant attitude and the “Sure, I’ll try” behavior that was our routine.

“Anna. I’ve decided something. This isn’t working. We’re going to try something new. Tomorrow when you come to school you are going to shadow me for the whole day. I have work to do and I’m going to do it and NOT chase you around the building or call your house to tell your mom that you left school again. You’re going to eat when I eat, come to the classrooms where I have to do teacher observations, and generally see what it is that I do. You’re going to do lunch duty with me and when I pick up trays and garbage on the tables, so will you. You’re going to get it together and I’m going to be with you to help. Understand?”

She looked compliant again. I didn’t know what to expect, but she certainly agreed.

Anna came to school the next day dressed a little better than usual. She let her long hair down and truly resembled an intern or, well, someone job shadowing me. Where I went, she went. When I had meetings and it was ok for her to be there (I didn’t let her hear confidential information) she was there with me watching me take notes or talk. When we went to classrooms she came along and brought her book (one I had actually just given her so she didn’t feel the need to take it from somewhere. In case you’re wondering, she finished it by the end of her two days with me and returned it back to me). In fact, for someone who has missed so much school I was astounded to witness what she did during the geometry lesson I was evaluating.

When the teacher was at the board working a problem and asked the class for the answer she was getting a few blank stares. Anna whispered the answer under her breath. She was sitting next to me in the back of the room and I was the only one who could hear her. She got every answer right.

“Anna,” I whispered. “That’s right. You know all these answers?”

“Yeah. I kinda remember this stuff. I like it. It’s fun.”

“Good grief.” She didn’t know what to do with my assessment. She just went back to whispering the answers to herself.

If other students questioned why she was with me she simply stated, “She’s giving me a creative punishment. I have to stay with her all day.” She wasn’t bitter or snarky or resentful about it. The answer was matter-of-fact and there was no sugar-coating what was going on with her.

Anna has already left school again. She went missing for a week, got a suspension, and then went missing again. She’s left me two voicemail messages (who calls their assistant principal and leaves messages when they do this kind of stuff?) and then showed up again this week.

I know myself well enough. I’m going to try something else. I’m going to do this again. There’s no way of telling how it will turn out, but I’m doing it.

“In America, when a problem is too difficult for adults, we pass it on to schools.” – Patricia A. Graham, 1996

The historical appraisals of the education system in the U.S. bring much to the table in the way of why we have institutional education. But it also offers a glimpse as to how we got here. I say this because I’ve spent the better part of the evening reading about how Illinois calculates AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress or Always Yell Persistently. Either way, I end up yelling after reading about AYP!) and now is the part of your reading where you’re wondering if I’m going to discuss female body parts or the genius that is making tampon flower bouquets (it was Craft Time at the Camp Mocha last weekend).

I’ve read A Nation At Risk.

I know the details surrounding Brown v Board of Education.

I’m aware of the deep religious origins of American education.

I realize that the stories about what I see and hear and do in education are far more interesting and telling about the state of education in 2009. The things I don’t write about or can’t talk about could fill a book. There’s never a dull day and yet the “being fulfilled” in my position isn’t a standard measurement I can use to justify the job. In the broader sense I think that education is only one way of schooling. Not every student will go to college nor do they have to see that as The Only Way. But we continue to champion academic success by looking at the graduation rate and the percentage of students going on to post-secondary educational schooling. Of the many things I think that need to be changed in education that is high on my list:

How do we get students, all students, even the vocational tech students, to recalibrate what constitutes a successful life? In my case, I set the parameters of what is successful to me and don’t expect to hold anyone else to that exact standard.

Some days “success” comes in the form of watching a student’s grasp of geometry take hold.

Some days “success” is when I see two students mediate their differences and leave my office with a greater understanding of one another and, more importantly, themselves.

Some days “success” is knowing that I helped remove a known gang member from the general population so that students could come to school in a safe environment and learn.

A sense of humor is essential. A smile makes all the difference in the world. Schools are a magical place to be and today happened to be one of those days where I felt every single emotion an educator can feel while carrying out the consequential and significant task of teaching. I can have all the knowledge in the world about teaching but if I have not the capacity to care then I may as well quit now. The questions I have about school remain to this day ones that I utter to colleagues in exasperation. It’s almost like a broken record of “Why do we have to fix ALL THIS STUFF?” Most certainly, compulsory education forces the hand of educational policy and once that comes back into focus for me I look at all the great kids in my life and think, “Hey! I didn’t screw that one up!”

Some days that’s all I can hope for.

As much as I open my mouth I am here to learn.

Britt asked me if I thought it was ok if she posted about a comment I made. There’s no point in rehashing it all here, but the one thing that I continue to learn is that people are flat out uncomfortable discussing racism. Race is one thing. A natural curiosity about your friends is to be expected. But racism? That word is like fire to people. They run about flailing their arms while they look for the nearest exit.

Me? Sometimes I fan the flames with my querries. Other times I am left looking like I held the matches.

People really hate to be called racists and who can blame them? Doing so puts them in the same category of David Duke and no one wants that. Telling someone they committed a racist act is quite another thing.

Unfortunately the comments just kept circling the drain and I knew her original questions would remain (mostly) unanswered. The waffling back and forth went between “I have _______ friends!” to blaming me for asking the question. Another common thread included various statements on how people refuse to see color.

That must be nice.

Especially with this being Black History Month and all.

It’s times like this when I wish I could just insert an audio clip of me sighing. A big, drawn out sigh.

It’s times like this that I hate what I keep learning about people.

It’s been a few years since I’ve participated in Snackie’s “Happy Self Love Day” and I must admit that I missed it terribly. This year doesn’t seem like the best one to come up with reasons I love myself even though it’s something I have been working on of late. (Honestly, I added “of late” because I couldn’t take that preposition ‘on’ just hanging at the end of the sentence.) 

In the last year I’ve taken a break, reunited with my daughter, gotten a promotion at work, figured out how to do things that everyone else has figured out on their computers already (see below) and entered into the world of vlogging with the new BackTalk episodes. Change is constantly around me but some things, thankfully, remain the same.

What you’re supposed to do for Happy Self Love Day is write something you love about yourself and ask readers to leave a comment on one thing they love about you. Don’t you see where that begging is coming into play now? (In all fairness I totally left you off the De-Lurker Day a while back. But that’s because I missed it. Still. Your hand wasn’t forced then. It is now. C’mon! Be a pal!)

Heather B took this pic of me thoroughly enjoying some fine laughter. Probably at myself, too.

Here goes nothing: What I love about myself is my sense of humor. Not only do I spend a great deal of my life laughing, I cherish the sound. Laughter is beautiful, soothing, healing. Just being able to experience humor and amusement is a gift. If there’s something that scares me about how I could change it would be that I would be absent of the hilarity of life. Things are bleak, life is hard – we all know this. Spending time every day laughing with others or at myself (for instance, this morning I was having an entire conversation with my dog, Lola, because she would not shit fast enough for my liking) is a complete necessity.

If you’ve ever had an email exchange with me you know that I can’t possibly do them without injecting jocularity into it. 

Your turn. What do you love about me? Or like. I think you can “strongly like” something about me if you’re uncomfortable with the love thang. I get that not everyone is besotted with me.

There are strange things happening to my blog lately. A few people have mentioned it but others said it looks fine. A warning message keeps popping up so this post will be short. I hope I don’t break my blog by posting!

I’m over at BlogHer again today with a new Beauty Hacks post. You should read it. These shoes are featured in it.

Or you can wipe the drool off your keyboard and send me Thank You chocolates. Either way. Your call.

Pssst! Have you heard of this wonderful fashion website Madras641? I think I’m in love.