No one talks...

We lost a student Sunday night. Not just any student, but a senior who was 5 weeks away from graduating. A student who had transferred to our school and had worked tirelessly to raise his GPA so he could walk the stage. A young man who was a leader on our campus and for the men's basketball team. I worked with this young man daily and had just sat with his Mom and him on Friday talking about graduation and creating a plan to ensure he makes it.

And his life ended. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of his house and was killed.

Yesterday, another student I work with had his house shot at twice. He was hit in the hand.

I am numb unsure of how to feel. But my body aches, my heart hearts and my stomach is in knots. I am still processing it all and will continue to each and everyday.

I sit here, at school today, angry and sad. These incidents do not make national news and they barely make local news. Why? As a country are we immune to these tragedies and the conditions in which they occur? Do we not wish to admit that we have cities that are being left behind?

Oakland has had 35 homicides so far and although I don't wish to acknowledge it, I know there will be more this year. Where is the conversation or national coverage? Where is the investigation? Or the public outrage?

I want to talk about this. I want you to talk about this. I want our state and country to talk about this. Conversation is the first step to addressing this. Silence does nothing. Talk. PLEASE. Our kids deserve it.

To be of use...

So fitting for the work that I do daily....

To Be Of Use

The people I love best

jump into work head first

without dallying in the shallows

and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight

They seem to become natives of that element

the black sleek heads of seals

bounding like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,

who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,

who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,

who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge

in the task, who go into the fields to harvest

and work in a row and pass the bags along,

who are not parlor generals and field deserters

but move in a common rhythm

when the food must come in or the fire by put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.

Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.

but the thing worth doing well

has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.

Greek amphoras for wine or oil

Hopi vases that hold corn are put in museums

but you know they were made to be used.

The pitcher cries for water to carry

and a person for work that is real.

Marge Piercy

Brought me back...

I had a moment today that brought me back to year # 1. What do you do when an adult wants to physically fight a young person? What do you when both students involved are on your caseload? How do you talk "down" a mother, someone who is your elder, a person from the community, when they are so passionately angry?

The easy answer is to walk away. The easy answer is to turn your back and come back tomorrow forgetting what today brought.

But, in life I have learned there is no easy answer.

So instead, I tried and I failed. I failed to protect the institution of education today. I failed to protect two young people among hundreds. I failed to connect with a passionate parent.

And instead, I cried. I cried during 4th period by myself. I cried because it is painful to watch. It is painful to watch. It is painful to not fully understand one's circumstance despite trying. It is painful to feel helpless. It is painful to feel useless in a situation that so desperately needed me.

And while I cried two students I care deeply for fought among adults.

And then to cap the day off, I held a meeting with a family where the family cried. They cried because they know their young daughter can do so well in school, can graduate and go on to be successful. And again, I watched. I watched feeling empathy and determined to not give up.

Four years after I began this journey, days continue to be just as tough as year 1.

Our superintendent is resigning, our director of special education resigned and so many other teachers will walk out at the end of the school year. I cannot be one of them and that is why I stay. The community I teach in deserves to be a community filled with hope, love, resources and equality. I will have successes this year...today was just not one of them.

A book that summarizes so much of my experience...

In 11th grade English we are doing book circles. It has been amazing to watch students engaging in various books that they selected around the "American Dream". I have begun reading "Our America" written by LeAlan Jones and Lloyd Newman.

On Friday in our book circle talk, I read aloud this quote to the students in my group and it struck me as summarizing so much about my experience within Oakland but also within so many pockets around America....

It is a principal being interviewed by two young boys in Chicago and she makes the following statement:

"And we have difficulty convincing you that we believe in you, that we don't believe that you will grow up to be members of gangs, that you can achieve anything that you want to achieve. We have to convince you of that everyday. And you don't believe that we believe you're smart.

So it's very difficult. It's difficult for some teachers to see the skills that you have. But one of the reasons I am here to help is to train teachers to look at the gifts that you bring with you.

A day to weep...

Over 20 children killed at an elementary school in Connecticut by a gunman. Makes me angry and hurt at our collective humanity.....

And I read this and remember also how powerful we can be collectively:

Tonight, we weep together. I saw a friend tonight as we picked up our kids and she looked at me, and the tears came. It is right and good to share our sorrow, to express it. We are correct to mourn for the children of others.

Because all children belong to us. We need to keep feeling, we need to keep weeping. When we cease to cry collectively, that is when the world really will break.

Never giving up....

Complex issues....race....community...anger...resources

It all came to a boil at school today where we had a riot that shut down not only school but also our street. I don't care to talk about the details except for that it was between three racial groups of students and it built into many smaller fights throughout the campus. Police came and helped to hold it down in order to get things back under control.

I held it together the majority of the class period even though it was very hard to hear students and see them visibly upset. Engaging them in conversation is so layered---the top layer is related to language use toward one another, but when you dig deeper you see that it is not just about race. It is about a community lacking resources, a community filled with violence, a community losing hope, a community struggling financially. And instead of building that community, today students tore it apart. It got brought onto campus and it was not a good day at school.

Watching students grow more and more upset and then releasing them early from school...missing out on key opportunities to learn...it all just broke my heart.

And then as a school community of adults, we gathered. I listened as we brainstormed a plan for Monday-a plan to support students but also send a clear message. A message about the importance of the classroom, the importance of deep conversation where issues are worked out, a message about consequences so this does not happen again. And I cried....

I cried because I feel like I am on the outside looking into an issue that is foreign to me. Yes, I have been exposed to it in the last three years. Yes, I can listen to the issues and empathize but I cannot fully understand because I am not a part of the issues. I cried because I could see the look of despair on individual faces. I cried because all I want to do is impart knowledge and wisdom on the young people. I cried because I worry that I am failing them because I cannot motivate them to work harder or motivate them to come in early or encourage them to be resilient.

And I walked away and vowed that I would rejuvenate myself over the weekend so I can return Monday with not just a smile, but a vow to do all those things. To work harder than I have worked before, to engage in tough conversations, to motivate them, to teach integrity and resilience and hard work, and most of all to teach them to love. To truly love one another....