My students...

So today, I have to air some things about working with my students, with whom I am so fortunate to work through the TORCH program and try to understand more of their stories. I will never know how to walk in their shoes, but I am thankful to try my best to be a resource for academic or life advice, however they need it. 

It makes me sad that when asking students to take home a checklist for documents required to fill out their FAFSA to apply for federal financial aid for college that you have to be sensitive with the words you use; family, instead of parents. That you cannot make any assumptions about who is supporting this student at home, who is actually in the picture, who is financially responsible for these young adults.

It makes me sad that my weekly let's-get-a-life-plan meeting with a student had to get postponed; his life was semi-derailed because his father, who wasn't around much anyways, got locked up, according to my student's text. The actions of families affect a student's academic life perhaps more than they realize. 

It makes me sad that a student shared not one, but two personal stories of siblings in her argumentative essay for an English class - her chosen topic was the necessity of rehab centers and programs for those struggling with addiction. That some of her siblings were born of different fathers, two different fathers not her own sexually abusing her two sisters. That in our office, we have to be ready to love our kids in different ways depending upon what they need: help on their chemistry homework, or a conversation about literally anything other than the mess going on at home.

But it gives me hope how strong these students are. That there may be so much more pain than we'd ever know, but some of them do want to open up to us. That some of them are motivated through it all to graduate to either just get out of there, or because they see education as the crucial link to bettering their life and possibly their family's.     

It gives me hope that a student with a tough family situation has never considered himself homeless because he always has a bed or couch to sleep on.

It gives me hope that filling out the FAFSA means for one student the difference between commuting from home and enjoying dorm life on campus. She practically did a happy dance in her seat when she saw her financial award estimate on the FAFSA confirmation page.

It gives me hope that though it will mean there will be more competition for the high school population in this small town to get jobs, President Obama's band-aid immigration policy DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) means undocumented immigrants who came here under the age of 16 could apply for temporary legal status and permission to work in this country, so more immigrant students whose families came here for more opportunities can legally get jobs and help their families out!

It gives me hope that my students can be accepted into an open enough environment where if a girl wants to wear a tux and take her girlfriend wearing a dress, she can.

It give me hope that I have the privilege to get on a solid enough basis with one student whose heart is in the right place, but his language is sometimes not the most respectful when referring to other people, as he has used terms such as "gay" as a derogatory adjective or "Redneck. It is not in my nature to be comfortable with confrontation, but because we understood and respected each other already, we could have that learning conversation. 

It gives me hope that my student used his disillusionment about his father as his motivation to be a better man than he ever was, and after working with him for just a short time, I'm thankful that I could honestly reply, "You already are."