this week is my last round of presentations at lincoln avenue elementary school. i must say, i have mixed feelings. i've been going there up to 2 times a month over a period of three days since the beginning of my term.
initially, i hated going to this school; the contact there was difficult for me to deal with due to conflicting personalities. i did enjoy the kids though, and most of the teachers were genuinely interested in seeing their kids learn and grow.
today, as a wrap-up of everything, I pitted the fifth graders against each other in a game of disaster education baseball. the guy's team, the bulls, against the girls team, the milwaukee chicks in an old-fashioned game of wits. it was really fun for a while, the girls playing cautiously against the guys, whose bravado led to more strikes, but inevitably more points.
the competition grew fierce, and i had to use both of the call and responses (if, you can hear my voice, clap once.... and 'ago,' are you listening? and 'ame,' you have my attention.) i warned the class if i had to use the call and response more than three times, the game would have to end. inevitably, at the top of the third inning, it got to be too much. i called the game off on account of the bad weather and retreated to the rear of the room. the guidance counselor took over and continued her lessons.
while waiting to be excused, there was a disturbance. a little black boy was brought, kicking and screaming into the room. the school security guard had his hands behind his back in what looked like an uncomfortable manner. mind you, this is an elementary school. the more the boy struggled, the more the guard held him. a woman followed in, asking the teacher of the classroom if the little boy could stay there, as detention was all full. (apparently, this teacher's class was where they deposited the "problem children.")
as the class continued on, the little boy struggled with the three authority figures who insisted that he settle down. their tones were less than friendly; the more aggressive they became, the more the little boy fought. i was at a loss watching.
eventually, the little boy agreed to sit, so long as no one touched him. the security guard and the woman left, and afterward, the teacher in the classroom apologized for the treatment. he explained that the adults had "no choice" when the child behaved that way. he offered the boy the opportunity to choose a book to read until lunch time. the little boy didn't want to read, but instead asked if he would still be able to go outside for recess. that was all that mattered to him.
before this happened, i had been speaking to the teacher about the state of milwaukee public schools. the teacher went on about the corruption of the higher-ups, the rules, etc. i agreed about most of it. but i have seen so much as an unsuspecting outsider visiting these schools. i have heard teachers screaming at children inappropriately, students running amok in the classrooms. this is what happens when public schools are under-funded, overfilled, and under-staffed by inexperienced teachers.
as the little boy stared stone faced at the wall, i approached him and asked his name. "billy, " he said, staring down at his desk. billy and i talked for a moment, and he let me know slowly what all the fuss was about. he was what the teachers reffered to as a 'problem student,' or 'at-risk.' it turned out that billy was being bothered by another student, but didn't tell his teacher because he thought she would blame him anyway. he resorted to violence, and got into trouble.
i told him i knew how it felt to get labeled as the bad kid- the one who was to blame even if they had nothing to do with the situation. we talked about ways he could have handled the situation, or avoided it altogether. billy was a really nice kid, it seemed, but he was just having a bad time.
i don't know if i'm reading into it too much, but there aren't a lot of black teachers at lincoln. there are caucasian, and hispanic teachers, but very few african americans. i remember what it was like to constantly be yelled at and berated by teachers without an awareness of the cultural differences. they couldn't see beyond the "disruption" to what the real problem was.
in this instance, i found out that this nine-year old second grader couldn't read. i was astonished. he sat at that desk and stared in silence because getting a book would have only frustrated him more. this was why he hadn't been able to pay attention in class, and probably why he was labeled at-risk. but he was in a public school, surrounded by educated people, and this little boy couldn't read!
i grabbed a book, and offered to read it to him. we had a great time talking about the story and discussing the pictures. i showed billy a picture of the milwaukee boat house that matt exposed me to. he loved it. we found a simple picture book, and billy surprised himself by reading a few pages to me. we kept reading until it was time for me to go.as i was leaving i remembered that lincoln has a boys and girls club , and the CLC program has tutors. i suggested to the teacher that billy get enrolled in that program. it's there for kids like him. as i was leaving, the teacher handed billy not only an application, but an entire page of strange-looking houses freshly printed.
i left smiling. i'm actually sad to say goodbye, but really glad i got to open up a connection between the teacher and student. given the right situation, anyone can be at-risk. on the same note, we can all be better than we ever knew.
"we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
-oscar wilde
