Going Anyway

She Is Smart

Thursday, May 4

When you're a teacher, and your voice is messed up, life is kind of hard. I think today was the worst day for the sound of my voice. Mucus is not only draining from my face, but it's getting clogged up, causing my voice to catch a lot. At least I'm not achy anymore.

After school today, we had a party after school for teacher appreciation week, but I had to stay back to help Nancy and a few other students.

I don't know if Nancy is going to pull through because getting her to read 25 pages today was almost impossible. I am requiring her to summarize every chapter, which was part of the assignment anyway. (This should've been done a month ago.) Her main assignment is to write a paper about the theme of the book. I'm not having her read the Bible, I'm having her read I Am Malala, which isn't an easy book for an eighth grader, but Nancy isn't dumb, and I can't just go easy on her because she's failing. Based on her test scores, her reading level is two grades ahead. School could be her thing if she wanted to try.

The other two kids I worked with are struggling in writing their current essays, but they want my help, so I'm willing to give it to them.

I didn't get out of the building until 5:30, and the party ended at 4:30.

Ava rides the bus home and stays in the house after school. I know we live in a rough town, but she's pretty safe in our condo. We live in a relatively good area. I don't like hiring babysitters because they cost money.

Ava was sitting on the couch, watching Netflix when I walked in the house.

"What's up?" I took my shoes off and walked to her.

"You look like you're about to die," she told me bluntly.

I sat next to her on the couch, shutting my eyes for longer than a blink. "I don't feel good." I looked at her, feeling the tiredness in my eyes.

"You look sad, too."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I stared at a pen mark on our green leather couch. I swallowed, "Honestly, Ava, today was a long day."

"What happened, Steven?" She sounded more mature than nine in that moment, like she was my sister. She could almost be my sister.

I picked at my already torn up cuticles. I need to stop doing that. I folded my hands. I met her eyes. "I have a student who is failing my class, and I honestly have no idea if she's going to pull through. She is smart, too, and it's tough to watch her not care because if she doesn't graduate, she's not going to be on a good path."

Ava licked her lips, and put a hand on my shoulder. "She's going to be okay. Trust me." Then she gave me a hug. "

Man, I needed that tonight.