[Full disclosure — the idea for this post came from SLA English teacher and edu-blogger, Zac Chase. More disclosure — I’ve never seen Empire Records, although I’m told it’s quite good.]
DEB
I decided I’d rather kill myself than meet Rex Manning. Now excuse me I’m going.AJ
No listen to me. This isn’t funny. I’m not joking. I’m not gonna let you go out of here until you tell me what’s going on.DEB
Mind your own business.LUCAS
She’s fine. She’s amazing.DEB
Thank you.LUCAS
(whispering)
AJ she’s in the store. She’s gonna be OK.
I spend a lot of my time worrying about our kids. One might say it’s what I spend the bulk of my time doing. We have a lot of kids at SLA who come from broken homes, who have seen friends, parents, loved ones killed, incarcerated, addicted. We have a lot of kids who struggle with their own demons, sometimes for reasons we cannot fathom. It’s not a story that is that different than any other school anywhere and it certainly is a story that resonates with any teacher from an urban district.
What makes SLA a little different, hopefully, is that our kids still show up every day. With our advisory program, every student at SLA knows there’s an adult who is responsible for them as a person, not just as a student. With our advisory program, we the adults are constantly reminded that our kids are *kids*, not just students. We’ve averaged 96% attendance all year long, which speaks to the energy and passion of all the people who inhabit our building.
But despite that, there are a number of kids who struggle, for whom the work of SLA is incredibly taxing and difficult. And there are a number of kids who I worry about every day. And despite the fact that those kids stick their heads in my office every day, I worry. We call parents, we send out dozens of emails and letters, we have conferences, we meet with kids, we get them access to city services when we need to, and still I worry.
The third quarter ended the other day, and I was able to access report cards. I’m particularly worried about a number of kids in our 10th grade. 10th grade is a tough year, I believe. High school is not new anymore, and the reality of life after high school hasn’t kicked in yet, and it’s my experience that 10th grade is when kids disappear. At the middle of our 3rd quarter, we had a number of kids who were on that cusp. So I viewed those report cards with a great deal of trepidation.
But they keep showing up, and student by student, they are starting to succeed in powerful ways. When I examined grades, student after student showed that they were getting it… now, progress isn’t a straight, bright line, and I’m not naive or optimistic enough to think that everyone of of the students at the top of the "Worry List" are now going to have nothing but success at SLA, but they keep showing up every day, they keep trying, and they are seeing the success that comes from that.
There’s no magic bullet, there’s no one solution. But when you create structures that allow students and teachers to see each other as people, not objects, and then when you bring people who want an excuse to care deeply about the people around them and let them fill that structure with their shared humanity, good things can happen.
So I keep worrying, it’s my job after all, but whenever I really start worrying, I just remind myself, "They’re in the store. It’s going to be o.k."
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