these days.

I have a running list of things I'd like to blog about in the coming weeks, including my excitement about the trees changing and why I want to celebrate every single day in the month of October and why I'm rethinking balance. I haven't been able to write anything, because these days, I have a heavy heart. 


My heart has been weighed down by the grave reality of what it means to teach in urban schools. With each passing day at my school site, I am smacked in the face with the reality of my students. They live in the reality of poverty and gang-crossfire. They live in survival mode with empty stomachs.

Going into this experience, I knew there was a high percentage of students living in poverty, but until I heard students complain of having nothing to eat, I didn't get it. I knew about gang violence at my school, but until I saw a gang fight and realized that my students' lives are in danger, I didn't get it. I knew there was an issue with drugs, but until I saw a drug deal during passing period, I didn't get it. I knew ACT scores were well below the CPS average, but until I worked with a student who has a fourth grade reading level, I didn't get it. 


There's one question I continually come back to. I keep asking myself 'why?' Why? Just why? Why did I get born into an affluent, supportive family? Why didn't my students? Why do they face horrible life situations? Why do I get to go home after school and they don't? Why is this their reality? Why do they have to be faced with gang violence daily? Why don't they have supportive families? Why does the world have to be a certain way? Why do bad things happen to good people? Why? Why? Just why?

My heart is heavy these days. I'm weighed down with sadness for my students' circumstances. Life has handed them more heartache and hardship than I'll probably ever experience. It's disheartening to be in urban schools, and I fully understand why the burnout rate is so high. It's not for everyone. And I can't, for the life of me, figure out why it's for me.

It's a constant paradox that I'm living in. It makes no sense for me to work in urban schools, considering my past and my education and my personality. But yet, when I'm there on Tuesdays and Thursdays, it feels right. I feel like I'm doing something right; I'm putting my skills and abilities to use in an environment where they are needed.

I had a student run to my class today. He came in out of breath, excited to be there. I had another student find me after school and ask if I would be back to teach on Thursday, because he really liked my lesson today. I had another student raise his hand every single time I asked a question, eager to learn and proud of his work. Even though there are a lot of difficult and discouraging things about working in urban schools, there are glimpses when I can see my students' benefitting from quality teaching. I want to be one of those teachers.

So these days, my heart is heavy. I don't have a neatly tied bow for the end of this post. I'm not sure if I'm in a good place or a bad place, and I know that I most certainly don't have all the answers. I am just continuing to put one foot in front of the other, taking life and teaching one step at a time.