I met Brianna on August 26th, 2012, our second day of school at Cesar Chavez Academy and my second full day of teaching 6th grade. During classtime, she was loud and disruptive -- whether she was barking across the room or throwing herself on the floor to cultivate her dramatic persona. She was also very smart, but only willing to share her intelligence with a few, trusted adults. By the end of the first quarter, she was failing both Math and Language Arts. What was more frustrating was that she didn't believe she was smart, and as soon as I realized that, I started writing her daily notes on square-inch pieces of colored paper that said over and over "You are smart, "You are smart," "You are smart." I wrote it in different ways each week, trying to explain why, how, when, and what she could do with that smartness. The notes were usually met with varying levels of annoyance.
About a month into the school year, Brianna showed me a cartoon strip that illustrated parts of her life. In one box, her father was being arrested as her mother cried in the background. As I learned more, I started to realize how complicated her family life was, and how difficult it was for her to create an identity out of such a confusing picture.
One day I invited Brianna to sit with me outside on the sidewalk in front of the classroom for a quick check-in. I had only planned on saying that I knew how hard it was for her to focus on school when her thoughts were somewhere else. I wanted so badly to tell her I knew what she was going through, but I sometimes felt as though my childhood had revolved in a completely different sphere. In reality, I had only a vague idea of what this sort of emotional overload could do to a twelve year-old. I started tearing up, embarrassed that I had let my over-sensitive self get in the way of a well-rehearsed conversation. I turned away, hoping Brianna hadn't noticed, but when I looked back at her she was sobbing into her sweatshirt. We sat like that for a few minutes - in our tiny, unprofessional, outdoor classroom. I don't pretend to know what Brianna was thinking, but I hope she understood that I cared enough to cry for her (as I would for all my students) and if she needed anything, I was always on her side.
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As a launch site, our staff team at Chavez is determined to offer our middle schoolers a different perspective on the learning day. Our students have come to expect more - more opportunities to meet professionals like lawyers, computer technicians, sculptors; more time to think about who they want to be in high school and college; and more conversations with caring adults. Hopefully, the 'more' that is Citizen Schools will help our students realize that they are all valuable members of this school community.
Although this work is difficult, I love my students. Even the one that growls at me. Even the one who responds to every question with “Yo mamma fool.” I am confident that with more time, greater access, and a few extra allies, these students can and will succeed. I have made strides with each of my sixth graders. Since the beginning of the year, the growler has started doing his homework and Mr. Yo Mamma built the fastest solar car in our class last December. I am also proud to report that Brianna is no longer failing Math.
In my first year with Citizen Schools, I have met some of the smartest, most talented children I have ever known. Brianna is just one example. All my students are smart; some just need more time to uncover that smartness. Citizen Schools can give them that time. If you donate to just one non-profit this year, plase donate to Citizen Schools.