Heart Brooking

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

It Brook My Heart

"Amani" came to school today in an even more belligerent mood than normal. I asked what was wrong and she said that it was all my fault, I just hate her and there's nothing she can do right. I'm out to get her.

OK. Deep breath. "Amani, what's really the matter?"

"You never listen to me, you hate me, you like everyone else better than me."

One more time. "Sweetheart, what's bothering you?"

She comes back with a note: "My mom told me that most of the time she don't even wanna be here with me and it brook my heart."

It brook my heart too. Her mom's overwhelmed, she's taking it out on her, but Amani doesn't know that. She idolizes her mom. She doesn't know how hard it is to be a single mom and how her mom's reacting (badly) to stress. And there's nothing I can say to make it better. No wonder she acts crazy. Negative attention is better than none.
Two years ago: Words of Wisdom

Three years ago: Pay Raises? Nope.
Um, Who's Teaching Our Teachers?

Four years ago: Beware the Ides of March
It Brook my Heart

Five years ago: What Time is it, Anyway?
Bits and Pieces

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A Loss

(I have been putting off finishing this blog post for months. You'll see why) Today, I was cleaning a bookshelf and I found the journal from one of my third-grade students, who I call Fred in my book , in 2001. I still had it because he didn't come to the last day of school to get his stuff this year and I guess it got put in a pile and somehow I've kept it with me. He didn't come to the last day of school, probably because his family was a mess: dad in prison, mom in an abusive relationship, all the kids (understandably) acting out violently. Fred was expelled from our school in second grade for hitting a teacher. Then he was expelled from the other school, I don't know why, at the end of second grade. He came back on the condition from the administration that he be in my class because I had him as a student in first grade and he listened to me and worked well with me. We had a really good relationship, although Fred was definitely not easy to have in class.

A New Prison, Part Two

Second very long part of the prison visit report. After we got all the paperwork filled out and went through the metal detector, we got visitation slips with the name of the inmate, and made our way over to the other building for visitation. This is not maximum security so thankfully you can just sit next to the inmates, and not be separated by glass or have to use a telephone to talk. First, you get a gate unlocked and go into a holding pen that is of course in direct sunlight (or rain if it's that season) and surrounded by fences topped with razor wire. You wait there until the gate at the other end is unlocked. This holding pen was a little bigger and less claustrophobic than the other prison (I do not have any claustrophobia and I came very close to a panic attack once at the other place) and they opened the other gate more quickly. Then you walk, again in blazing sunlight (or rain) to the visitation building. This one was less of a walk than the other prison but I still

A New Prison, Part 1

My former student, friend, and co-author was moved to a new prison during COVID. We (myself, Mitali, and his Abuela) have visited a couple of times via the video visit functionality they set up, but we've also been trying to visit in person, ever since in-person visits were allowed again. After four of them being canceled (sometimes we were told why, sometimes not), we finally got a visit. I was super nervous about this visit. (I felt better when Mitali mentioned that she was also, because she is an inherently positive and optimistic person!) I am not proud of this, but there was a large part of me that was hoping that the visit would be canceled, just like the previous four were. I felt a little better when someone I know messaged me privately to tell me that they had had very good experiences visiting a family member in that prison. But I still didn't sleep well at all that night, worrying about the guards, the many things that could go wrong, and the projected 111-degree hea

Bronwyn Harris, Author

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