Going Anyway

I Believe In You

Wednesday, May 3

The hardest thing as a teacher is watching kids throw away their future. I believe everyone can succeed.

Today, I took a girl's phone, and she had to come after school to retrieve it. The conversation below represents why I choose to be a teacher.

When she walked in, I was grading some papers from last unit. I decided I wouldn't be the first to say something, so I just stared her down. I'm not going to publish her name, but we will call her Nancy.

(By the way, I'm not using anyone's real name on this blog. That includes Ava's name and my name.)

She walked over to me at my desk, and glared. "Can I have my phone now?"

"Nancy, you're failing my class..." I let the silence ring. She just looked down. "Look, you have the gift of free education, and you're throwing it away. Honestly, if you had an A in my class, I probably wouldn't care as much if you were on your phone, but you're failing. You are required to be here, so you might as well, take advantage of it."

She didn't say anything for a moment. I had more to say, but it was her turn to talk. Finally, she said, "Just gimme my phone."

"Nancy, why are you okay with failing? You're not only failing my class, but you're also failing Science, Math, PE, and Health." (I checked her other grades.) I stood up and walked to her. Then, I sat on top of one of the desks to be at her eye level because she's short. "You can graduate. You can go to college. I understand you may hate school, but, Nancy, you're smart enough. I believe in you. And I am willing to help you pass this class, but you have to want it." Her eyes were welled with tears as she took in a deep breath. "I know what it's like to not believe in yourself. It's the worst feeling, but all it took was one person believing in me. That's when it all changed for me. Someone told me I was worth it and told me I could go to college. I'm telling you, you can go to college. You can get good grades. Let's take baby steps. Let's figure out how to have you pass this class."

She folded her arms and pressed her lips together. "I don't wanna go to college."

"Why?"

"I'm not a fancy rich white girl who only cares about her grades, okay?" She put on an attitude just to hide her emotions. I know those words said something to her. I could see it. I also have been in her shoes before.

Nancy is black. White people are a minority in this district. I am white.

And, by the way, I have no idea how race came into this conversation.

"So, because you're black, you don't need college?"

"I don't need college no matter what. School is a waste of time." Her glossy pink lips were pressed together when she was done insulting my career.

"What do you plan on doing when you escape school?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Get married. Have babies."

"So, you wanna be a stay at home mom?"

"Yeah."

"What's the harm in having at least a high school diploma? I mean, what if the father of your kids leaves? Then what are you gonna do?"

She crossed her arms and gave me the death glare. "Are you tellin' me that I'm gonna get pregnant with a man who is just gonna leave me? Is that how lowly you think of me? Y'all teachers think I'm just a little piece of s*** don't you?"

I put my hands up. "No, and the reality, Nancy, is that you live in one of the the worst towns in Alabama. The reality is dropouts usually don't get into good relationships. They usually get into drugs. Graduating gives you the opportunity to get out of here. I recommend going to college just to get out of this town because it's barely safe to live here. You can't fight me on this."

Oh, by the way, we live in one of the roughest towns in Alabama. Not kidding.

Another reason why we're moving away.

Anyway, I don't know which part made her lose her attitude, but she couldn't look at me anymore when she quietly said, "I know."

"Please let me help you." My voice cracked because I'm sick. When her eyes met mine, her dark skin showed her tear-stained face. "I'm not here to make your life miserable. I am here to help you, Nancy."

"Okay." She sounded scared, honestly.

"If I get the work ready for you tomorrow, will you at least get it done by next Friday? If you need help, I'd be more than happy to help you."

"What about tests and stuff? Can I help that grade?"

"You're at a 44 percent because of missing work and projects. Your tests aren't the problem. But you have to try on these projects."

Nancy sighed. "Okay."

"Do you want to graduate?" She thought about it for a moment and nodded. I liked this non-attitude-Nancy. "Do you want to go to college?" She shrugged a little. "Don't worry about the financial part of it right now, but think about actually having a degree. How cool would that be?"

She ran a hand through her hair, looking down. "College sounds hard."

"It's not as scary as it sounds, I promise. At this point, just worry about passing your classes this year. Next year work on getting better grades because you can do it." I got up and walked to my desk. I pulled my lanyard out of my pocket and unlocked my desk drawer. I took out her purple sliding phone. (I didn't even know people had these devices still. Even Ava has a better phone.) Nancy followed me over. I looked her in the eye and told her, "If I catch you on your phone again, I will not be  graceful. I will not let you turn anything in late, and you will fail my class. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good because I believe in you. I need you to believe in you, too." I handed her the phone.

She swallowed. "Thank you." It was the most genuine thing I have ever heard that girl say. At that, she walked out, and I said a prayer for her.