Tuesday afternoon I worried about Wednesday. It had threatened to snow something terrible in the NYC Metro area. Part of me was excited because it meant that I could take the day to organize all my various Shea butter products. Part of me was worried that we'd have to come to school, that the notice would come late, and that the day of school in spite of dangerous cold and unplowed streets would teach me something I was unready to know about who goes to my school and what their lives were like.
Guess what happened? Hint-- my butters are still disorganized.
It started from breakfast. Usually, I dread breakfast duty. As much of a "wooh a chance to experience a Communion of mind and bread with my students" teacher I am, I actually look forward to the sacred moments of quietness before they arrive. Sue me.
I passed the auditorium, one of the two places students go if they arrive early. 4 kids in the whole school. Cool. Maybe today will be a "Trick-The-Kids-Into-Cleaning-
Then I went into the cafeteria. At least 50 kids. I wondered, and naively so, why the kids were rolling so deep here.
Duh. Free breakfast.
It threw me off. It made me remember the urgency of the necessary city, state, and federal benefits for those who live at or below the poverty line. And let's be clear... That line ain't drawn too accurately. I digress.
What I Learned...
1. The kids who showed up were also the same kids who regularly ate breakfast, nearly all of whom do so for free.
2. The kids who showed up had something to lose by staying home. A day off of school means time lost. And the kids who showed up and braved the conditions represented a group of parents who fear that lost time. (Carefully worded. Please note, I tried a MILLION combinations of words and phrases and nothing was neat enough to say this--> Ain't nobody tryna say that the kids who stayed home had triflin parents. That was another kind of sacrifice.)
I was scared to write this post at first because I didn't want it to appear like some chick who's never understood the meaning of "hunger" to sit at her MacBook and gripe about how blessed, helpless, and special SHE is. That's not what this is about.
This post was actually written to remind me of what's at stake. Who needs us. Who we teach. Who we serve. This is not a joke. This is also not just a reminder for teachers.
If you listen to many local news stations, have Facebook account, follow the Ed Reform movement, or if you just have a pulse, you've heard a popular refrain, "Parents in the hood don't have their priorities straight. They have their kids wearing Jordans but ain't never took their kids to the museum". That may be true, but it's not an accurate reading. I won't repeat myself. Just read.
It is expensive to be poor. There is a financial AND a spiritual cost of poverty. The 90's taught us "more money, more problems". I would also say "less money, more problems". Find a babysitter because you work irregular hours, hire the neighbor's kid to tutor because those hours don't allow you to help with homework, find someone to take the kids to school..... It adds up.
Some of you are sitting and singing "if you can't feed the baby, then don't have the baby". Mama-say-mama-sah-mama-koosah to that, I suppose. But that's really not what's at stake. And that's not really what's most important here.
Until we have comprehensive affordable health coverage, until our schools hire just as many guidance counselors as security guards, until our parents and families are supported by fairly paying jobs, it will ALWAYS be expensive to be poor.
I'm worried about our painting of Parents and Families as either wholly competent or wholly triflin. Parents are human. Humans don't really do well in categories or boxes. Sometimes people do great things. Sometimes people do sucky things. Most times, people shuffle through life and go through the motions. I kind of want to say that I blame Tyler Perry for his influence on American understanding of character development. News flash-- You will not always know if someone is the "good guy" or "bad guy" based on his smile or his theme music.
There are MANY different types of parents and families--
1. There are families who send their children to school to brave cold weather and dangerous ice because there is a promise of two meals.
2. There are families who send their children to school to brave cold weather and dangerous ice because they don't have any where else to take their children.
3. There are families who send their children to school to brave cold weather and dangerous ice because they're able to do so, and in doing so, they are relatively unstirred.
But what about the kids we didn't see? What about the kids who stayed home with their parents, who made the sacrifice of a sick day/personal day/day of pay?
Parents make sacrifices. Parents use their best judgement. Families weigh the costs and make the call. There will always be someone who finds fault in the sacrifices you choose. It takes a resilient parent to continue to do his or her personal best, whatever that may be, while facing assumptions of character and priority. For teachers of Black and Brown children, the presence of ANY child in the middle of a snowstorm or below-zero weather says that formal education is a value. That teachers are being trusted, held accountable, and challenged. It is our job to deliver.
In the shadow of the Education Reform movement, it is tempting to be distracted by data for the sake of political agendas. I'm not so sure it is anyone's goal to widen the achievement gap. But our focus has to be clearer. Before test prep, it is our job to make a lesson relevant, engaging, exciting, and thoughtful. We are preparing students to become citizens. We are building leaders. We are training our replacements. That's a lot of pressure, but that's what it is. Children have braved cold weather for whatever they thought we had to offer. It's our ethical responsibility to deliver.
It takes a village to raise a child. Any great teacher can tell you that. Parents, teachers, voters, policy-writers, all of us. We all have a responsibility to clear the snow. Those who travel behind us and beside us need a safe path.
Shared sacrifice. Are we ready for it?
