Skip to main content

“I trust you, Miss. I could talk to you.”


I can’t stop thinking about him.  He has a reputation as a gang-banger, yet I see something different in his eyes. I see a young man caught in a difficult situation. At school, I couldn’t stop thinking about the boy with so much potential in spite of his reputation. I had to do something. I wrote him a card expressing my belief in him. Shortly after giving it to him, he came to me upset because he had lost it without reading it. After a search, it was found and returned to him.

Due to a poor choice on his part, he found himself in In School Suspension today. I went to check on him during my prep period. After I helped him with a Social Studies assignment, he told me he was working on a writing assignment that I would not want to read. The piece came about after an activity in LA class that I had taught with Mr. Wilson. A drawing his neighborhood meant to get him thinking about possible stories. I assured him that I wanted to read it.  After reading it, I wanted to pull him into my arms for a great big hug for it was a story of guns, violence, and hardship.

Often he speaks through art. He has an eye for it. So much so that he was asked by a teacher who believes in him to design a cover for the yearbook. Included within the cover were messages of inspiration and hope. A glimpse into the young man we don’t get to see very often.

While walking with him in the hall, I asked if he had an adult he could talk to if he needed some guidance. His answer was no. I mentioned he should start thinking about someone he felt comfortable with. Someone he could go to if he needed some support or guidance.

“I trust you, Miss. I could talk to you.”

Comments

  1. AnonymousNovember 5, 2010 at 12:04 PM

    Mandie Keep up the good work you are doing with those students. You was sent there for a reason.
    You are helping them. You are such a great Mom and wife. I know that you and Tony are being tested but both of you are coming through with flying colors and one of these days you will be back together as a family. love you. miss you.
    Marguerite

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

WABDR: Section 1

Section 1  We end at the beginning  Does it feel like this trip will never end? Epic adventures tend to last a bit longer than just an average one. So….on with our tale.  We got our bikes all packed up and continued over White Pass. The first time we went over it, it was a cloudy day. Thus, the visibility of the mountains was not much. I was expecting the same on our return trip to Packwood. Therefore, it took my breath away when I saw the mountain off in the distance for the first time. The beauty was so overwhelming, I teared up.    I continued to watch the mountain until I could see it no more. Soon we were in Packwood. Back where we started. After a quick breakfast at the local coffee shop, we were on our way. I may have taken a few minutes to ride the big bike first… Not too long though, because someone was ready to get moving.  Jennifer had some friends that were camping at Walupt Lake, which is right on the trail for Sectio...
Post a Comment
Read more

Aging sucks.....or does it?

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...
2 comments
Read more

WABDR, Section 2: Part 1

WE GET ON THE TRAIL, finally WABDR Section 2 It has taken forever to get to this part of the story, but we are finally here! The day we go off-road. But first, we go into Packwood in hopes of getting a first-aid kit that we realized we forgot the previous evening. No first-aid kit was to be found. Mostly because the one store that we figured would have one was closed. If you read the second installment of this story, you already know our response. (For those who didn’t read it, we dubbed this the F-it Trip.) We would figure it out as we went along. The way we handled it was to have a good breakfast and charge up our intercom system. As we rode down the road to get to the trail with our music playing, I felt as if we were straight out of Easy Rider... except much more badass. After all, we were going off-road. Pretty sure the big, wide, bug-catching grin on my face didn’t look so tough though.  White Pass went on for awhile. The clouds looked a bit ominous. I paid i...
1 comment
Read more