Doin' Stuff in Juvi

I swear, I walked in and this was happening. Boy was just silently marveling at a globe. This picture looks so staged. I did ask him if I could take his picture, but when I pulled out my phone I thought it was interesting how he chose to "pose" like this... how he was when I walked in.

Well, then we got to talking. We were in a classroom on the third floor. He was so pensive and unaffected by my presence and his eyes just kept shifting from the globe in his hands to gazing out the window. Below is a very condensed version of the conversation we had. Note: this young man had just been "released" from "juvi." Juvinile Hall. Jail for kids.

Me: "What are you looking at?"
Student: "I just like being high and looking out." (He meant literally high, not marijuana-high.)
Me: "Oh."
Student: "I never been up so high until they ["juvi"] had me workin' the old folks' home... I was up on the seventh floor... and I would just be starin' and starin' ...and gettin' in trouble because I just wasn't used to bein' up so high and lookin' out so I would be lookin' out da window instead a workin'. I just liked lookin' out."
Me: "Oh...yeah..."
Student: "What do you think they growin' down there?" (He pointed to the school's garden beds three stories below.)
Me: "Looks like corn or something tall. I'm not sure... what do you think?"
Student: "Could be corn. I see some squash too."
Me: "You grow squash?"
Student: "Yeah, that's another thing they had us do. They had us growin' food for us and for other people."
Me: "Wow... That's really great..."
Student: "Thaz why I didn't mind bein' there. We got to do stuff. Now I'm out and people just do nothin'."

There are many days when I say to myself "just make it to the car... just make it to the car..." and then the door shuts and I burst into tears. After that day I cried longer than I had... maybe ever. And I called my mom and thanked her because I was probably under the age of 5 when I was in some sort of hotel glass-elevator and having the experience that this nearly 15-year-old had while living in a juvenile detention center. My whole life I've "gotten to do stuff."

That day made a mark on my life and will forever change how I exist as a teacher. I can't be sure of where my students come from, what they have or what they have not experienced. Technically, my job is to teach Math. But since that day, I do everything in my power to make sure my students "get to do stuff."


P.S. Is there a #latergram for blogs? I guess you'd call this a #laterblog since this all happened within my first month of teaching and it's now February. Although, I think I cry more now than I did that first month. My students, I now refer to as "my kids." I don't know when I made the switch, but the other day someone said to me "OH, I thought you actually had kids." It's confuses people.