Just when you
think...
Just when you think the world has gone completely to the
dung heap, young people enter, and the world tilts and wobbles a bit. Just when you think all is dim and gray,
enter the kids; the agents of change creeping in to open your eyes. Look
around, listen to what is being said, feel the winds of change... Fake news!
OK, so that being said, I experienced something, a dimension
out of sync, this past week that completely blew my mind. I was with an
incredible group of students this past week, that totally shook my world. The
world as it were, did not wobble and tilt. It spun out of control and sent me
into another dimension, a warped and ugly place where I had thought we had
begun to leave behind; door closed, buried, returning to only to learn from our
mistakes.
I've been a teacher for a long, long time, and thought I'd
seen and heard it all. Not so. Within
the span of six hours I heard and witnessed such crassness and cruelty, the likes
of which I have not experienced in a very long time. Lightning fast, the
village I thought was raising more thoughtful children, more empathetic souls;
a ghost town. The hope I felt for generations coming to assuage and mend the
rips, rends and chasms; disintegrated. If what I witnessed is what "Making
America Great Again" is tipping us toward...Be wary.
This week, I worked in a Middle School. I worked in a school
in a middle-class town, filled with people of average incomes, average
intellect, struggling to survive. This town has had its share, more than its
share, of Opioid misuse, abuse and deaths. It has had its share of spousal
abuse, resulting hospitalizations, and deaths. It is a town that has struggled
to educate it's children and send them off to change the world. It is a town
whose growth has created anger and confusion, with services not keeping up with
it's needs. One would think this town, with it's common
struggles, might be the place where children are taught and nurtured to look
around and see that everyone has challenges, and to support those challenges.
For, "by the Grace of God, go I," may cause them to pause and
understand; understand that those who are cast out, might someday be them.
In the span of six, very brief hours I heard one boy call
another, "retarded." When I asked that the boys settle down, another
shouted, "who you callin' boys, we ain't no niggers." This from a
very white boy, in a 100% white room. And yet another hurled, "don't be
insulting (XX) cuz everyone knows he wants to be a girl. And from the girls,
giggles and a comment, "don't be insultin' the girls." Yes, I did write them up...class dismissed.
Exhausted, I manned the door to await the next class, and
welcome them into the room. A very
exuberant teacher, playfully skipped past the door, exclaiming..."Friday,
Friday!" a gaggle of girls giggled and rolled their eyes, and I thought,
"how sweet." WRONG! The teacher was not a slender, lithe, sprite of a
woman, but a more substantially built, woman of joy. The giggles were snide
little expressions of disgust, as I overheard the low condemnations of this
bundle of joyful mirth, be called an elephant. "Seriously" one
announced with the classic head tilt, "I thought we were having an
earthquake." Enter the next class of students whom we stupidly believer
will, "Make America Great Again."
"Ok, ladies and gentlemen. You may listen to music, one
earbud in, phone face up on your desk, while you work independently on your
assignment." One might think I had asked them to cut off a toe. Phones
were secreted under the desks, thumbs texting at rapid fire. "Change of
plan. In that you can't follow directions, all phones are to be powered down
and put away in pockets or backpacks." WRONG! The sneers came out, the classic head tilt
came on strong. Believe it or not..."Who the Hell does she think she is,
she's a fucking sub. She's too old to know what a cellphone is..oh yeah, she's
looks pretty stupid...yeah she's a 'tard...She's a fuckin' 'tard!" Yes, I
wrote them all up. As I was doing so, charming girl #1 and delightful girl #2,
quietly gathered their things and slithered out of the room. Teachers have
great peripheral vision. Front office notified, the "all call" went
out throughout the school, and just like that....poof, my faith in a world of
caring, a time of understanding, a better place for all...gone in one
whimpered, poof....
Who the Hell is raising this festering boil of a pod of
people? Who do these children look up to, aspire to? Whose hands are guiding?
Those hands might just possibly be hands dipped in swill. I used to roll up my
sleeves; loved getting my hands dirty, being, “the change” I hoped to be. I reveled
in knowing that my hands had penned praises on papers, held the tissues to wipe
the tears and applauded success.
After this week, I wash my hands.
