He Thinks I Want to Help Students Break Out of Their Prisons: Am I a serious person?

         

A student messaged me this passage this week.  I don't know what it's from, but I am so happy about who it is from. This student graduated from our high school about nine years ago.  He is a brilliant guy, reads better books than I do, and is serving as career military at this point. I really like him--smart, funny people are great. 

When I had him in class, I had just started at my school the year before. It was a nervous point in my career. I had just come back to full-time teaching. I might have still been going through the three-year period when my hands shook (a lot--very visibly) when I held things and when I taught. (I'm glad that stopped.) I did not feel like I was on top of my game as an educator that's for sure, though I had twenty years of experience by then. I had taken four years off before this current school, and was feeling lucky to be back in the thick of it. All I had to offer was dual-enrollment comp, and despite my recent experience on the actual community college campus, I felt I was kind of fumbling around, kind of like a poser.  (It would be a while until I added AP Lang--which I like to think he would have enjoyed.  He was an under-the-radar intellectual.)

But anyway, he sends me updates on what he's reading and also sends kind words like these on occasion. I'm crying a bit right now because what he's sharing here is what I try to do: help students break out of intellectual prisons so they can see and appreciate how smart they are--how beautiful their minds are. I've sacrificed many days (weekends, evenings, hours and hours)  trying to help kids grow: "to add depth" to their educational experience, their thinking, hopefully their lives. 

The part about including the topic of dying in my classes is kind of on point, too.  That day I received this from him  I had shared four beautiful poems with my freshmen--all about death: "Making a Fist," "Conquerers," "Lesson of the Moth" and "She Loved Him All Her Life." In the last one, an elderly woman ties a string to her husband's wrist so his soul does not escape her without her knowing. Sad. Beautiful. I worry that this type of poetry--with freshmen especially--makes me a little too dark. (The other three involve a boy in a backseat who thinks he's dying, soldiers coming upon a devastated enemy village, and a moth that commits suicide.) And then, we also just finished Long Way Down about murder and revenge.

My husband told me this week he thinks I am a "serious" person. When I was a kid I played games ALL the time, did all the sports, watched a ton of TV.  I have lost interest in all of those (and kind of avoid them). However, I defended myself: "I am playful," I said. "And funny."  He said that you can be all of those things at once.

Anyway, thanks to this student for making me feel good about what I try to accomplish.  I'm guessing this is what most of you do as well (except maybe without the emphasize on our approaching doom). Sorry if this one seems "braggy." It just made me so happy and melancholy and full.  You can be all of those at once.