I taught those kids. They were my babies - my first set of students and the ones for whom I slaved hours and hours and hours each weekend and each night as I began to learn what it means to be a teacher just over two years ago. Those boys were in my class and I saw them every single day, day in and day out. I took them on field trips and I called their parents. I promised to grow them into stronger mathematicians and to guide them towards being better human beings who are kind to one another and who take responsibility for their communities. We learned about perpendicular lines and we practiced solving word problems and we prepared to take the DC-CAS. I quietly prayed for them in the mornings. I gave every fiber of my being to them and their education.
~
Today, they made a choice that will result in expulsion from our school and will leave permanent marks on their legal records, permanent marks on their hearts, and permanent marks on their memories of the early adolescent years.
Streaming tears.
I'm hurting because they made a choice that stacks the odds so much higher in the streets' favor, and I am for these kids. I am rooting for them to overcome the odds and to make it - to make it to high school, through high school, to college, and through college. I'm rooting for you, boys, don't you know that? I loved you as best I could. Do you know how many people are rooting for you and loving you?
We will still root for you and love you, and some of us will even pray for you, but it will be from afar. We'll always be here, but it's going to be different. You're not alone, but we won't be there in the streets...your teachers there will be different. They may be good, or even great, but they will be different.
I fear the streets will swallow you. I am afraid that you will look for identity and a sense of belongingness in gangs, drugs, sex, and even violence. Trust me when I say that you will not find any satisfaction there. Believe me. Please believe me.
He was so young, so small, and so innocent two years ago. What happened? I am going to miss seeing him around.
Did I do something wrong? Or maybe there is something I could have done better? What if I called home more? What if I started an after-school program geared towards their interests?
When the cop cars pulled up to the school this afternoon, I thought back to the time he accidentally stapled his finger in class and burst out into laughing-tears. I laughed so hard that I started crying, too. When I saw the cop's handcuffs, I remembered how he had started to take martial arts classes and we'd all catch him chopping the air on his way back from the bathroom. It was funny, and innocent, and cute. It wasn't like drugs and gangs.
The kids are hurting and I'm hurting, too, but I have been convicted to the core in these past few hours as I think about how pale our human love looks in comparison to the unyielding and fierce love of the Father. If I am hurting this much for them and I am only their teacher - not even their parent or sibling or best friend - how much more deeply and terribly must our Father's heart ache for His children when they make poor choices, when they hurt themselves and one another. If you know God, then you've been told that He sacrificed His own Son because He loved all of us so much and wanted to be in a right relationship with us. But do you really get it? Think of the person who you love most in this world... think about how much you would hurt if that person made a choice that separated him/herself from you, for a little while or permanently. Maybe you've already experienced this and you know the sting of that pain.
How much more our holy and good and grace-filled God must yearn to see us choose Him over sin. He whose love is infinitely greater than any love we can give to one another continues to choose us. God says "yes" to us and God does not run out of grace or second chances. His cup overflows with mercy.
I pray for the ability to love these kids better, which means, I think, that I will look them in the eye and pray the best for them and forget their wrongs, having kept no record of them. I will tell them I will be there for them, and that I'm still rooting for them. Forgive me, Father, for thinking it could have been my effort that could have saved them from the streets. Have mercy on me, God, for selfishly claiming these kids as my own - they're Yours to save and Yours to love and they have been Yours since the beginning of time. Show me how to love them, too, and redeem them from the streets.
~
Today, they made a choice that will result in expulsion from our school and will leave permanent marks on their legal records, permanent marks on their hearts, and permanent marks on their memories of the early adolescent years.
Streaming tears.
I'm hurting because they made a choice that stacks the odds so much higher in the streets' favor, and I am for these kids. I am rooting for them to overcome the odds and to make it - to make it to high school, through high school, to college, and through college. I'm rooting for you, boys, don't you know that? I loved you as best I could. Do you know how many people are rooting for you and loving you?
We will still root for you and love you, and some of us will even pray for you, but it will be from afar. We'll always be here, but it's going to be different. You're not alone, but we won't be there in the streets...your teachers there will be different. They may be good, or even great, but they will be different.
I fear the streets will swallow you. I am afraid that you will look for identity and a sense of belongingness in gangs, drugs, sex, and even violence. Trust me when I say that you will not find any satisfaction there. Believe me. Please believe me.
He was so young, so small, and so innocent two years ago. What happened? I am going to miss seeing him around.
Did I do something wrong? Or maybe there is something I could have done better? What if I called home more? What if I started an after-school program geared towards their interests?
When the cop cars pulled up to the school this afternoon, I thought back to the time he accidentally stapled his finger in class and burst out into laughing-tears. I laughed so hard that I started crying, too. When I saw the cop's handcuffs, I remembered how he had started to take martial arts classes and we'd all catch him chopping the air on his way back from the bathroom. It was funny, and innocent, and cute. It wasn't like drugs and gangs.
The kids are hurting and I'm hurting, too, but I have been convicted to the core in these past few hours as I think about how pale our human love looks in comparison to the unyielding and fierce love of the Father. If I am hurting this much for them and I am only their teacher - not even their parent or sibling or best friend - how much more deeply and terribly must our Father's heart ache for His children when they make poor choices, when they hurt themselves and one another. If you know God, then you've been told that He sacrificed His own Son because He loved all of us so much and wanted to be in a right relationship with us. But do you really get it? Think of the person who you love most in this world... think about how much you would hurt if that person made a choice that separated him/herself from you, for a little while or permanently. Maybe you've already experienced this and you know the sting of that pain.
How much more our holy and good and grace-filled God must yearn to see us choose Him over sin. He whose love is infinitely greater than any love we can give to one another continues to choose us. God says "yes" to us and God does not run out of grace or second chances. His cup overflows with mercy.
I pray for the ability to love these kids better, which means, I think, that I will look them in the eye and pray the best for them and forget their wrongs, having kept no record of them. I will tell them I will be there for them, and that I'm still rooting for them. Forgive me, Father, for thinking it could have been my effort that could have saved them from the streets. Have mercy on me, God, for selfishly claiming these kids as my own - they're Yours to save and Yours to love and they have been Yours since the beginning of time. Show me how to love them, too, and redeem them from the streets.
