Skip to main content

Community

When I was teaching, I learned that the community around the school l- specifically the black community - had a lot of problems and a lot of really amazing qualities.  This is all highly generalized, so please understand that I know that, and I know I'm not talking about everyone.  Family structure can be qualified as both negative and positive, I think.  There are so many missing fathers that it's a bit of a cliche.  I was always glad that Father's Day came after school was out because it was so hard for the kids.  Many of the mothers were quite young when they had children.  Many of them have children with all different fathers.

There are also some really wonderful parts to this particular black community.  The women in the family are generally incredible.  The extended family tends to be a strong one - at least in a matriarchal sense.  Many of my students had mothers, aunties, grannies, great-aunts, and even great-grandmothers who were involved in their lives.  Older sisters came on field trips and helped raise their little brothers.

This is obvious when I go to pick up my Little Sister.  her mom works until 5:00 so she goes to her Nana's house after school, as do most of her cousins and her little brother.  Regardless of if I pick her up at her mom's or Nana's house (in the same complex), there are usually at least four kids and a variety of adult aunties, cousins, and other women.  They all take care of her and love her and nurture her.  It's interesting, because you always hear about the collapse of the black family structure, but very little about the accomplishments.  I've seen a little brother look up to his adult sister and glow with pride when she compliments his report card, or three generations of women come to 5th grade graduation.  Many of us with more "traditional" nuclear families could benefit from that kind of familial involvement.

Today, I took my Little Sister out to eat. (I'm going to call her "Clarabelle" because that's what she names all her characters and imaginary animals!)  She doesn't eat very much - I guess 7-year olds don't eat much yet.  She had a burrito and decided she didn't like it and wanted to eat mine, which was huge, so we shared it.  She was sitting on my lap when a homeless guy walked over.  He looked like he was in his 60s, but may have been much younger, just with a hard life.  He had trouble talking and walking and was missing most of his teeth, but didn't seem like he was currently on drugs or drunk.  He didn't seem dangerous, and there were lots of restaurant employees around.

This guy asked for my Clarabelle's burrito, which was almost all still there.  She said he could have it (I think she felt safe because she was on my lap).  He said, "But I'm a bum.  Tell her I'm a bum, I'm homeless."  He never spoke directly to her, but kept telling me to tell her things.  I said it was OK, and wrapped up the burrito for him.  He said "But I'm homeless.  No problem?"  I said "No problem, you can have it."  We kept repeating this and then he looked at Clarabelle, and said to me, "She's going to go to college?"  I said she was.  He repeated that for a while, and then looked straight at me and said "You make sure she goes to college."  I said I would and he said, "She's a good girl?  She's smart?"  Clarabelle said yes, she was.  He looked at me and said, "You make sure she goes to college.  I'm just a bum.   I'm homeless.  God bless you and she goes to college."

He left and she said, "He wasn't scary.  He knows I'm smart and I need an education."  Then we had the conversation about how you never ever talk to adults you don't know when you're by yourself.  But she knew that already.

One year ago: Segregation in the Schools

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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