long time no see. {ramblings}

For reals, long time.

So long story summed up into 4 words: it has been crazy.

I have so much on my mind and in my heart right now that I need to get it out (and you know, why not do it on a public forum.....)

I am exhausted.

Mentally, physically...emotionally.

I love my students this year, they have been angels compared to some of the (uh hum) heathens I had last year. But in all honestly I love all my kids...so angel or not, they all have a place in my heart.

And I'm beginning to think that might be why I am so tired. On any given day, I have at least 10 students who are not currently in my class come and sit and chat and high five and hug and write on my board and mess with my desk and use my computer and store stuff in my closet and ask for jolly ranchers and need a pencil and......

I love it. I do. Because that means that I did something right by these kids. That they trust me for some reason. That they know that I am still there for them.....

But I also see 152 current students everyday as well. And they want to do all those things also. But I have to educate them, too. But I want to talk to them. But they have to pass TAKS. But we have to move on.....

I have 5 dads this year. It's weird. I am not a parent, but 5 of my guys are fathers. One of my girls is a mom.

I call the students who were lucky to be my first students "my babies." And my babies are graduating this year. I have, I'll admit, on a number of occasions cried when I think about them leaving school.

I have wept.

I have tearfully prayed.

I have encouraged, and scholarshiped, and applied, and checked grades, and recommended, and busted balls, and yelled, and fist bumped, and texted, and FAFSA'ed, and counseled my babies.

I cried on the way home because I am so overwhelmed with my students' lives.

5 dads. 1 mom.

One of my babies thinks she's pregnant.

Another one brought drugs into my car this week when I took him to driver's ed.

Some are being cyber bullied while the others are the bullies.

One is in alternative.

One has dropped out.

One is in and out of jail.

One's mom left her...again.

One's dad wrote her letter saying he has disowned her because she is gay.

I hate to always write about the bad. About the sorrow and the sadness I feel for these kids. But my heart beats for them. I can't wait to talk to them. To see how their day is going. To hug them. To high five them. To teach them. To laugh with them.

But at the same time, all of this has become too much. I am too close with too many and it's too much.

I am overwhelmingly exhausted.

I have resigned my position at my school for the upcoming year. I need a break. I need a regrouping of sorts.

I am sad to leave my students behind but I am glad to be getting away.

So I will be giving it my all these next 9 weeks if it kills me. I gotta make sure that they will be ok when I am not there.

I gotta to make sure they know that I love them.

School's out...for the summer????

Well, sort of.

Tomorrow I am tutoring a kid for the GED. He left Burges after the first semester last year and went to Sunset which is a credit recovery school. I messaged him a little while ago to see if he was graduating. This was his reply:

• "No I got out like 2 months ago i wouldn't go to school so I'm getting my ged and hopefully going to school in august and then ill be ok and do better
• 
  

Sorry I let you down also"

I was heart broken....let me down? My poor student! I told him I would help in any way. Did he need me to drive him to school? Help him sign up for a GED class? Anything. He is a bright kid and this is just another example of a kid not having a chance - his family situation is the worst. It's just not fair.

When I met him, he reminded me of two of my good friends, Angel and Antonio. He would be best friends with them if he was their age - seriously, this kid is HILARIOUS!

We talked alot about him going to Spain and going to school for architecture (because that's where Angel and Antonio live). I showed him schools he could go to, scholarships he could get. I helped him pass his exit level TAKS test and we were all set. Then this year he started just not coming to school. at all. ever. Then he went to Sunset. And then finally he dropped out.

I have a teacher facebook page so I can message my students class reminders, and lets be honest, I stalk them a bit. I signed on today and had a message from him asking me to help him study for the GED. I was elated! Way to take the initiative, my friend! So tomorrow, I will pick him, take him to Starbucks (he once wrote a letter to Mikell telling him I was cheating on him with Starbucks) and we are going to work through a practice GED test.

I asked him what time he would like to meet and he said let's not wake up too early, lets meet at 1. Typical teenage boy.

But that will not end my school day tomorrow. I had very few seniors this year and out of those very few only 1 is going away to college. And I believe that that is something to be celebrated. So, tomorrow, after I tutor 'ol boy, I am meeting with her to talk to her about college. Maybe tell her a few things I wish someone had told me before I went. I am just so happy and proud of her. She got a $40,000 scholarship to St. Mary's in Austin, TX. She has a strong faith and a good head on her shoulders. I just want to make sure she keeps it there :)

Again, maybe I am crossing a line with my kids. And at some point I feel like maybe this could get me into trouble. But I'm okay with that. Because I know that they need me. They need the support they don't get at home. And I will be here to give it to them. No matter what.

I come from a place where my life, my parents, my friends, my morals are a world away from the way it is here in El Paso. This place is super broken. My place was not. So if I can bring my place into theirs, if only for a moment, then I think I have succeeded.

Live. Love. Teach.

I got this water bottle last week from a FANTASTIC lady who came on a build over spring break. She is younger than me and an intern at a college ministry but she had this water bottle because she has an education degree. We talked about my kids and the struggles of teaching in a border town and all that fun stuff..... I told her in passing that I loved her water bottle and will have to get myself one....

Well, last week was quite honestly one of the worst weeks ever. EVER. I have gotten 8 new kids since Spring Break. One of them doesn't speak English ... at all. AND on top of all that madness I am held accountable for their test scores. Oh ok, thanks. They were terrible.

On top of that, I have two kids that have more than over 250 absences. Thats right - 250!!! Granted, each day counts as 7 absences but thats the equivalent to about 6 weeks of school. And again, I am held accountable for their test scores. Fantastic.

I am just tired. Tired of the politics. Tired of babysitting teenagers. Tired.

So on Saturday when I received her lovely package it was just enough encouragement to make me not want to die when thinking about going to school.

But. today feels a little like last week. I was 20 minutes late to work because there was a fatal wreck that shut down a major road which made all my roads SUPER crowded. My kids are already tired of TAKS review and we have three weeks left.

And Mikell is gone...again.

So all in all, this is has been a pretty crummy Monday, and tomorrow will probably not be any different.

And I will continue trying to look at this water bottle and remember why I am here. Why I am a teacher and why I love my kids. Because today, it feels a little impossible remember.

Recommendation

A student asked me to write a recommendation for her yesterday. Of course I said yes but I was honestly FREAKING out.

I cannot write. Ok so maybe I blab on here, but a FORMAL letter? Um, no thank you.

I seriously sweated over it for hours. Typed and re-typed and deleted then re-typed again. I cannot write formally. I can't make her sound generic. I can't make her be a "bright and driven student" and "a pleasure in class". Granted, she is all of these things - but she is so much more than that. So much more.

So this is what I came up with:

To whom it may concern,

I recommend [her] for the IC CAE program. I have had the pleasure of teaching Miss [her] for the past school year.

I have only known [her] for a few months, but she is someone that I will never forget. [She] comes from a place where education might not be the priority. Where “home” is a little broken. And where dinner might not be on the table every night.

But you would never know that.

From the outside [she] seems like every other student; her story, very similar to others. But on the inside there is something much different.

She wants more. She wants more than a passing grade. She wants more than a high school diploma. She wants a life bigger than the one she has now.

[She] would be a perfect addition to your program. She is a quick and inquisitive learner. She has a thirst for knowledge that is almost unquenchable. She would take everything she would learn to heart.

I believe that this would be a sturdy stepping stone for her, an opportunity she wouldn’t otherwise have, and an experience that would resonate with her throughout her life.

Sincerely,

Lindsay West


Formal? No.
Grammatically correct? Probably not.
Written well? Not in the least.
Helpful? I hope so.

Because if anyone deserves this opportunity, it is her. And I can only pray that I have helped her get there.

You're Beautiful.

As a christian, I see God as a father. As an all knowing, all providing, all comforting dad who is waiting for me whenever I need him and will love me unconditionally. A Father that will proudly claim me as his and wants nothing more than to have a relationship with me. And we are dotingly called his children.

I see Him as not being too much different than my dad, and probably not too much different from your dad. He is comforter, a problem solver, a mister know-it-all.....sometimes a bank account, a slap on the wrist and long hard look in a mirror. But still a Dad. A warm and fuzzy dream-dad of sorts.

But what if your real dad well....sucks. And then to hear that God is your father???? How are you supposed to interpret that? And understand what kind of love that is??? What if both of your parents suck???

I have a student whose dad is in jail for murder. He has been there for 17 years, has a 25 year sentence, and is supposed to be getting out next year. He told me he felt abandoned, that his dad left him when he needed him the most.....

I have another student who hasn't seen his dad in 10 years and his mom dropped him off one day with his grandparents because she wanted to go live with her boyfriend in another city.....

One of my kids dads is an alcoholic and a drug addict. He told me that he did better in school when he lived with his dad (he know lives with his g'parents) because he was scared his dad would come home and beat him in a drunken/high rage if he had bad grades....

One of my girls moms is leaving her home alone for 5 weeks....

One of my boys from last year parents dumped him off on his brother who now wants nothing to do with him and he is classified as homeless...

One of my girls feels that her mom cares more about her boyfriends than she does her own children...

Alot of my kids don't know their dads....

Alot of my kids hate their moms...

So how do I teach them about unconditional love when all they know is abandonment, denial, rage, and toxicity?

It is a challenge, a hard one. Because I'm not supposed to teach them about love. I am supposed to teach them biology. I am supposed to teach them how to take the TAKS test, but yet my heart is breaking for them.

My heart is breaking because I am scared that if I don't love them the way God loves them that they will never know that love. I am scared that they will walk away and not feel worthy.

My chola handed me a long note today. It was a suicide note. I asked her if she was really thinking about taking her own life and she said no - just that those thoughts had come into her head over the weekend. She had gotten into a fight with her mom and her mother told her that she wished she had had an abortion. She wrote that she wondered if she did die if her mom would even cry.

She wrote that "it don't make sense going to heaven with the goodie-goodies dressed in white. I like black tims and black hoodies. God will probably have me on some strict shit. No sleeping all day. Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise. F*** that shit."

I told her that to God she mattered. To me, she mattered. That if she took her own life, that God would cry. That I would cry.

She wrote me another letter a few days ago and it was just the lyrics to Runaway Train.

I wrote her back last night and it is just the lyrics to Beautiful by Mercy Me.

The days will come when you don't have the strength
When all you hear is you're not worth anything
Wondering if you ever could be loved
And if they truly saw your heart they'd see too much

You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You are made so much more than all of this
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His
You're beautiful

I'm praying that you have the heart to find
Cause you are more than what is hurting you tonight
For all the lies you've held inside so long
And they are nothing in the shadow of the cross

You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You are made so much more than all of this
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His
You're beautiful

Before you ever took a breath
Long before the world began
Of all the wonders He possessed
There was one more precious
Of all the earth and skys above
You're the one He madly loves
Enough to die

You're beautiful
You're beautiful
In His eyes

You're beautiful
You were meant for so much more than all of this
You're beautiful
You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You're meant for so much more than all of this
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You are treasured, You are sacred, You are His

I hope she realizes that she is worthy of love. Regardless of what her parents tell her. Regardless of what he friends, boyfriend and sister tells her. She is worthy, just as all my students are worthy.

I can only pray that they one day find the love God. And in the meantime, I will continue to try to literally love the hell out of them.

Oh me oh my.

There are days....days like yesterday....that I HATE being a teacher.

And here is why:

Wednesday, I had my students write three possible test questions (with the answers) for their test yesterday. I told them that if I thought they were good questions that I would include them on the test. I thought they would take some pride in it because I also put their names by the questions so they could have bragging rights.

Oh GEEZ was I WRONG!!

THEY MISSED THEIR OWN QUESTIONS!!!!!

I repeat...they missed their own questions.

Ugh!

James Watson

We started talking about DNA and all that jazz today in class, which to me is incredibly fascinating. So I found a video of James Watson talking about his DNA discoveries and I was in awe. I thought it was witty, informational, and awesome to be sitting listening to the man who discovered the double helix give a talk! I didn't even know he was still alive and then to listen to him talk!!! What a privilege.

Well, I guess the nerd in me was really showing because my students didn't think it was good at all. They actually thought it was boring.

Boo.

Maybe one day they will look back at this oh-so-incredible education opportunity and realize its value. And see how cool I was to let them watch it ;)

Easy A

Yesterday I told my kids we would be having a MATCHING VOCABULARY test today and gave them a list of the vocab words that they should make sure they know.

Today they are failing the test.

Tomorrow they will forget they failed because they don't care.

So my question is this: if these kids can't even do a simple matching vocabulary test, how will they be able to be successful in life?

Quote of the day!

"Well, if we lived in America, school would have been canceled since we are freezing. Most schools cancel because of a mouse infestation. Here we just name them."



Burges does not have heat and as I am writing it is 60 degrees in my room. This is at the end of the day so the kids have warmed it up a bit. Needless to say its super cold!

My Chola

I have a lump in my throat, a pit in my stomach, and I am holding back tears because I know once I start crying I won’t be able to stop.

Today was the first day back from Christmas break. I had a bunch of new students to meet, my old students were actually glad to be back and it was an overall good day. But something was missing. Someone was missing.

On the first day of school in August she walked in with a “limp”, an obvious, purposeful limp. Her lip liner dark, her earrings big, and her clothes black and baggy. She was a chola. And to be honest, I thought ‘good Lord help me’ because I was worried. Is she going to cuss me out? Is she going to shank me? Will she care about school at all? Will I be fighting with her all year?

But she came in my room sat down and was surprisingly quiet. She kept to herself most of the class period and seemed to be doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes and paying attention. I, being the nosy teacher I am, went to go check out the doodles to find her not doodling but drawing. And it was INCREDIBLE albeit probably the scariest clown I have ever seen.

We started talking about her drawing. I told her she was very talented and asked her if she had any other sketches in her book. I was blown away. Her roses looked real. Her tears looked wet and her graffiti looked like fine art.

Over the first couple of weeks we talked…a lot. I found out she had been arrested about 25 times. She had a 3 year stint in juvy. A lot of teachers associated her with her sister who was apparently a trouble student and she didn’t like that. But I also learned that she loves people. She is super compassionate. She is naturally smart. And she would come visit me every day and give me a hug.

So today, when she didn’t come to give me a hug and when she didn’t show up to class I was worried. No one in class knew where she was and I decided to text her. I asked her where she was and she replied downtown. She had been to court a couple of times fall semester so I figured she was there. I asked her why she was there and she told me she was barely getting out.

Barely getting out? What does that mean? Well she was barely getting out of jail. Today is January 4. She got arrested December 26 for fighting. She was in jail for 10 days.

I’m not saying that she didn’t deserve to be in jail, because she busted a girls head open so yes she deserved to be there. But what I am saying is that I HATE that she was there. Because I know that she was hardened. That her heart was hardened. That a part of her love for people died. That a part of her compassion turned to hatred. AND I HATE IT!!!!!

As we talked over text message, she told me she was just a kid from the ghetto. I told her she was beautiful, smart, talented and bigger than this mess. I told her she had the world at her feet. That I loved her and I want her to love herself. That I want her to see herself as I see her. That she can get away from it if she wants to. Yes, it would be hard. Yes, she would hurt some people. But yes, she can do it. She can have a better life.

I asked if she was coming to school tomorrow and she was unsure because of what she was charged with. At this point in our conversation I thought she had just been arrested for fighting. But she was charged with attempted murder. The girl with the busted head ended up in the ICU.

So what happens now? How does she recover from this? I feel like I failed her. I feel like somewhere I didn’t do enough to help her. But I also feel like no matter what I would have done it would never have been enough to save her from herself.

How do we keep this from happening? How do we nurture the good? How do we shelter from the bad? How do I tell them about Jesus and keep church and state separate? How do I show them a better world, a better life that they know nothing of?

I sit and think about this and am at a loss. I know that at this point, I can do no more. I have to wait to see her sentence as she is in the courts hands. But I pray, I beg, that this will not define her life. That this will not define who she is.

I don’t know how to end this blog because I don’t know this end of this story. I don’t know where my chola will be tomorrow, in a couple of days, in a few years. So if you are reading this I ask that you pray for her. What to pray for I don’t know…..but pray for her.

Desperation

According to Dictionary.com, desperation means "the state of being desperate or of having the recklessness of despair."

So in my desperation to get my kids to pass, I had them text me their cell phone numbers so that I can text them reminders about class. My students have my cell phone number.

Was is this a rash decision? Yes. Will I probably change my number at the end of the year? Yes. Is it helping my kids remember? Yes. So is it worth it? Absofreakinlutely!

Although I get some random texts from students that I have to ignore...this was my best idea yet. This way, they cannot say they forgot, or didn't know. I have PROOF they knew. I have PROOF they were told. It is, my friends, the best thing I have done all year.

80 to 100 times a day

I was driving to school the other morning and you know how they have the morning radio trivia caller iner question thingy???? Well that particular mornings was 'What does an average person do 80 to 100 times a day?'

I had no clue. I couldn't think of a single thing I do 80 - 100 times day...maybe yawn? No....blink? That would have to be more.....Wish I was somewhere else? Welll....maybe not 100 times a day...

I was stumped. Then someone called in and said cuss. In the split second before the DJ told him he was right or wrong I thought NO WAY! AND HE WAS RIGHT! CUSS! The average person cusses 80 to 100 times a day! Holy moly!

Then I walked into school.

And was greeted with a "you wouldn't f****** believe what this f****** b**** did to me. What the f***?!?!?!"

Oh well good morning to you too dear.

Then I started to think....80 to 100 times a day was underestimate for the majority of my students. They cuss. And they cuss a lot.

I remember my first day of work, I was dumb founded. I had never in my life heard so much profanity. And NOTHING was being done about it!

There was always an argument in my college ministry about cussing. Some people said they are just words, others thought they were bad, some were in the middle like me.

You stub your toe you say the s word - big deal. You almost run someone over because you dont see them walking across the street because people in your town don't know what a crosswalk is and you say the s word - big deal.

But when every other word in your sentence is the F word....I do believe that is a big deal.

Come to El Paso, listen to conversations. No matter the age, no matter the company, someone is dropping F bombs left and right and it's not a big deal.

I said the s word ONCE in front of my dad and I thought I was about to lose my life. And I thought he was going to have a coronary.

But here, in this town, in these schools, who cares.

The phrase 'cussing like a sailor' doesn't make sense to them because everyone cusses.

I don't know how this started, where this became an okay way to talk, but it's shocking.

I don't cuss in front of my students. They know that I will call them out on their language. They know not to cuss in front of me (well atleast some try not to).

I told them that if the only adjective they know is effing, then they need to expand their vocabulary.

Pray for this place. These people. My students.

Because cussing is just the tip of this iceberg.

Failure is not an option.

That phrase....those precious words....do not exist in my students vocabulary. Why? Because no one has ever told them that. They have been allowed, and expected, to fail their entire lives.

I gave a test today. 30 questions straight from the homework and the notes and the study guide we went over in class.

3 people passed.

out of 100.

only.3.

I asked them to raise their hands if they studied. Only 3.

Do they care? Are they now worried about their grades? Nope.

What happened here? Why do my students not care? Why are their parents allowing them to fail? Why do they not do their homework? Why is one of kids average a 17?

Parent-teacher conferences were last night, only 9 parents came. Do I think that this is a direct reflection onto my students? Absolutely.

If the parents dont care then why should the kids?

How do I make them care?

How do I get them to be successful in my class?

How do I get them to pass?

I don't feel bad for them anymore. I am beyond that. I am to a point of extreme frustration, disbelief, and annoyance.

Tomorrow they will learn that failure is not an option.
They will learn that I care if they fail.
They will learn that they will pass this class.
They will learn to study.
They will learn to do their homework.

And they will learn that making the teacher mad does not work well in their favor.

I am a science teacher...

...because I love science.

I like labs. I always learned more when I was actually able to see and do, more so than just lecture. So I decided we would do a lab. I got all the supplies I needed from the Science Resource Center a week ago. I made copies of the lab (and if you are a teacher then you know how precious copies are) and I made an answer sheet for each student. I got to school early and set up the lab. I cracked eggs to get egg whites, melted butter, cut up potatoes (just to name a few), and I got all the chemicals ready. I put each class into lab groups, had a student number my tables, and put away my projector and speaker so that I could use my cart.

They were to take some tests tubes and fill them with various food products, some being solid and some being a liquid. They would then put a chemical and see the reaction between the chemical and the food and this would show what was in the food.

Simple right? WRONG!!!!

1.) Apparently my students don't know how to read.
2.) Nor do they know what 'you are doing two parts' means.
3.)They also didnt think that wearing goggles was cool so they didn't.
4.) They thought it would be funny to throw potato, spinach and tuna in the sink in stead of in the trash can.
5.) They also thought, hey why dont we put the back of a stool in the sink, clog it up, then turn the water on so that we almost fill the sink up.
6.) Hanging up an apron was obviously too big of a task for them comprehend.
7.) As was putting their goggles back where they came from.
8.) Instead of cleaning their test tubes out they thought it would be better to just put them in the sink.
9.) That is, for the ones that they didn't break.
10.) And watching chemical reactions wasn't 'explosive' enough for them.

Will we do a lab again? Nope.

You're welcome.

Mums the word!

In good 'ol Texas there is a tradition...a homecoming tradition. And I do not understand this tradition at all.

i do not know these girls, i just googled 'homecoming mums' and this is what popped up....this is just a picture of the mums i am talking about. i am in no way making fun of these girls.

Apparently it started out small.

"Homecoming mums are a Texas tradition that began in the 1920s. Fresh Chrysanthemum Flowers were originally used with a few ribbons and were given to boyfreinds and girlfriends. In the 1960s, homecoming mums began being made from silk flowers with additional items added to signify what activities the students were involved in. The Homecoming mums have become a huge tradition in Texas and many girls keep the Homecoming mums to adorn the walls of their room to remember the year." (from a dallas mum website)

But now they are massive! And I mean HUGE!!! The guys give them to the girls and then they wear them around their neck...I have read that they can cost over $100 and weigh up to 12lbs!

Who wants to wear 12lbs on their neck?!

I mean, I can understand flowers, or corsages, or even buttons with stuff coming off of it - but this, to me, is super mind boggling.

I can't wait to see this madness walking around the hall of Burges Homecoming week!

Lord have mercy..haha.

how do i even begin....

I made this blog so that I could write about school. Share the funny and crazy stories of my day.... but this year, though it has been crazy, has been very far from funny.

I cried at school today. Not because a student cussed me out, or wouldn’t do what they were supposed to, or called me a bad teacher....but because my heart breaks for my kids. And today it broke into a thousand pieces. One thing after another happened and I was broken for my students.

i love my student. I really do. I think maybe my relationship with some of them might be a little too deep but I can’t help it. I know them, their family lives, their stories....and they need me. They need me to love them, to minister to them, to be a positive, guiding influence in their life.

It started early this morning, before the bell even rang, when a former student told me that one of current students is the father to four. After soaking that in another student came to me to talk about the escapades of her crazy, and I mean CRAZY life. She fought with a teacher yesterday, has a warrant for her arrest, her cousin got arrested, was talking about the fights she had been in.....and I sat there listening with tears in my eyes....

Another student of mine told me that a male teacher at school makes her uncomfortable and that he says things to her that she doesn’t like.....

Another student told me about her time in juvy and about how easy it is to steal from Walmart.....

A student that is not even mine talked to me about her thinking she was pregnant....

Then one of my students talked to me about her thinking she was pregnant too....

A lot of my kids don’t know their dads.....

All are exposed to drugs on a daily basis....

Three of my students have already dropped out....

I cried.

And I apologized to them.

I am sorry that they have to deal with gangs, drugs, pregnancies, crappy parents, and crappy situations.

I am sorry that they have lost their childhood to a mean and ugly place.

I am sorry that I cant save them from getting in trouble and getting hurt.

I am sorry that no one loved them enough to protect them.

I am sorry that their parents just want to be their friends and not their disciplinarians.

And I cried.

For them.

For their families.

For this city.

Because it is broken. Very broken.