When I arrived in the school office today it was clogged with young mothers who were anticipating the "awards" ceremony for the kindergarten through third grade. Many of these sweet and beautiful women had babies on their hips and toddlers stuck to their sides, uneasy in the forest of legs.
I was there, not for the awards, but to attend the monthly Community Action Team meeting in the multi purpose room. It was the shortest meeting ever, few in attendance. Most of the regulars now only attend the community development meetings that happen outside of the school and are chaired by the former school principal who is so gifted in community affairs. CAT is probably moribund. I only went today because I had thought we'd get some information about the layoffs of so many staff members.
But this did not happen. Rules! Directives from god (the superintendant of the county schools.) Maybe people will know by Friday, maybe not. Lots of folks twisting in the educational wind.
People in the public schools have no respect at all for our governor, to put it mildly. They are more tolerant of some of the ridiculous directives that come down from "the office". In no way, never, does common sense prevail. The god in the Office of the Superintendant has decreed that henceforth no real food will be served in any circumstance in these public schools. No dad could come in and make pizza with kids, no teacher can make smoothies in the classroom, no popcorn in the microwave, no watermelon freshly cut and dripping off kids' chins. Of course, no magical mornings of so many moms cooking and serving a Cinco de Mayo lunch. No aroma of garlic. Cellophane rules!
The CAT meeting got my blood up just in time to then proceed into the last time I'd be in this second grade class I have loved so much since the beginning of school.
This class is quite typical of public schools. Certainly there are the usual 20% of those kids who are loud, hyperactive or needy in some way. It takes far too long even at this late date to marshall everyone to do the simplest task.
The teacher, so exhausted at this time of the year, is clearly happy to have someone else take charge of this popcorn of kids. While I am there she hunkers down at the needed tasks to end the year. She knows her classroom needs a lot of work and organizing to end the year well. She also knows, that as a teacher in the public schools, she is not respected. She doesn't yet know, really and truly, where she'll be teaching next year, and what grade. She doesn't yet have the data from the FCAT tests to do the report cards!
Who is to blame for this? I don't know- the testing companies? NCLB? Our society? The lack of common sense?
But the kids, as usual, were great. We made self portraits, and all of them were so wonderful! I had brought in a couple of kids' works for inspiration and these kids worked on them for much of the afternoon. They included such detail! They were so careful in the coloring in and the outlining in permanent marker. Any parent would love to have this self portrait, framed and hanging in their house. But, of course, it will never happen. Maybe I can get some of them into the school office!
We went outside to run around and eat the popsicles (all natural) I had brought. Some of the kids showed me the awards they had been given earlier in the day. The goodest little girl had a medal on a green ribbon and the baddest little boy had received nothing. (Why do we keep on doing this??)
So, full of this, I went on to the Girls and Boys Club for my last appearance. This gig has remained very hard for me. I have gotten used to the marginal neighborhood, the institutional smell, the trash and the kids wandering aimlessly. I do love the sense there that common sense prevails, but it is still hard to find a place where kids can have a chance to focus. Six kids have stayed with me to do math!
Today it was hard to pay attention to what we are about. Lots of kids were tromping and yelling through the space in the hall we now have. Furniture inadequate, incredible discrepencies in abilities, so I am flying between groups of kids, hoping to engage them.
Towards the beginning, another boy, not a part of the math group, comes up to me and says, "Can I speak to you privately?" He asks me when I will be done with the math group. This is a boy that I have driven upon occasion to soccer practice in Dade City on my way home. The first thing that hit my mind was that he wanted to find out when I was leaving so that, on this last day of my volunteering might in some way say "Thank you". He just wanted a ride to soccer.
The math group really tried to focus. David and Javier and Javelin are making such progress! After forty-five minutes in the din, I called it a day and we went outside to carve the watermelon I had brought. We shared it with the football players and everyone had a good time. The kids will be coming to my summer art camp and the boys who have been there every week will be going on a field trip to a local college and out to lunch with me!
So, after the class, Raoul finds me and we get into the car. He has no athletic bag, nothing. I am assuming that I should drop him off in Dade City at the soccer field. But then, he says I should drive him to Zyphryhills, ten miles down the road. I say that I cannot do this, I am not his chauffeur, it is far out of my way and I have other stuff to do. I can drop him off at his house in Dade City. He doesn't seem to know the address of his own home. I pull over in the middle of town and say that I'll leave him off here, he can walk. Then he says I should drop him off at his aunt's house 'straight ahead'. He doesn't seem to know this address either. He keeps shifting on the specifics. By now I am pretty sure that this large fourteen year old kid with a mustach does NOT belong in my car. He is begging me to drive him to Zyphyrhills to god knows where. He asks to use my phone, but I tell him my phone is out of juice (true). I should drop him off at the Taco Bell, he tells me. So I drive him there, stop the car. He says he has no money so I give him $3. "Call whoever you want", I say.
I feel guilty having abandoned this fourteen year old child at Taco Bell. But I think he'll be O.K. For now. I really think that he is in the initial stages of being lost to this society and there is not anything I can do about it.
My last day volunteering in the Lacoochee community has come to an end. In my bag of leftovers from the day I find one pencil drawing on lined paper from a student. It's a castle with crenelations and in the middle is a very small queen. "Thank you, miss Moly"(sic). I will treasure this.
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