In August of 2014, my youngest daughter began her first year of teaching in a Title 1 school in North Carolina. This week, she completed this task and will never have a first quite like this again in her life. In some senses – thank goodness.  Doing anything for the “first” time is always the hardest.  Always the most challenging. Always the most stress inducing.

Life has not always been “textbook” for this DD. The blessing of a non-textbook life are the victories along the way, and she has had many.  Many have come this year, in ways she probably could never articulate. The most important – what impact did she have on her students.  The question is NOT – what did they learn, how did their test scores increase, were they on the highest reading level, could they write their name?  No, the question is more about did they feel accepted by her, did they feel valued by her, did they learn how to respect themselves and others – these questions carry far more significance than any of the others.

In August, she shared with me that most of her children did not come from in intact homes, in fact some did not even live with at least one of their parents.  They were unsure as to what home they returned to each afternoon.  Many had no extra’s at home, and some may not have had the necessities either.  At this point, we hatched the idea that I would send a small “item/gift” to each of them once a month and become their secret pal.  Somethings were educational, some were not. The only constant was that each child got something once a month. Along the way we talked about how to tell the kids who their secret pal was – and we had pretty much settled on a Facetime with them. And then I lost my job.  And I could not seem to get a job as everything I applied for, the interview team reminded me,  I was overqualified. So – we decided I would come to North Carolina from Kansas during the last week of school. Bringing their final gift, I came to school on Wednesday of this week.  Thank you, once again, for terminating me. The gift continues to be given to me to do things that would never have been possible before.  (Financially this may not be the smartest move, but I will just trust that God has plans to meet that need when the time comes.)

Wednesday I got to meet 15+ children (most from her class and a couple from the class that she teaches literacy to from next door) that would change me. Here are some of the highlights….

One little girl comes with lots of attitude packed in her tiny little body. One little boy is struggling with expressing himself as a 9 year old.  Another girl has the look and the soul of a grandma – an old soul. One 9 year old boy is being raised to be a  thug by his mother. Still another little girl regularly has some ailment – scabies or lice. One boy seems to have the knowledge of placing a sexual connotation to an item.  The there is the sad girl who desperately wants to be near to you and follows my daughter around the room.  A child (from her literacy block) who takes a medication that has an unmanaged side effect that causes her to continually scratch her eyes – but that was a better than the side effect of wetting her pants. Another, who is CLEARLY hearing impaired based on her speech alone, and who was only just this semester tested. And she is in third grade. In the same school since Kindergarten?  I simply do not understand. Then there is a little boy we will call Cameron. Cameron is lost. Both in the classroom and in his own thoughts.

I greeted each of the kids and introduced myself to them and asked a little about them as they came into the classroom.  I had plenty of time as the first student arrives at 7:45 and the last comes in eating breakfast at 8:30! As Cameron arrived, Ms. Britton commented to him “oh Cameron – I like your hair!  You combed it differently today!”  He shyly smiled, put his backpack away and sat down.  When he realized there was an outsider in the classroom he made his way to me and proceeded to tell me a little about his life.  His mom and dad are no longer married.  In fact, he does not know where is dad is.  He lives with his grandmother and great grandmother. His grandmother is going in the hospital for some surgery on her stomach and his great grandmother will be taking care of him because grandma could be in the hospital for two weeks. (His mom, has a brain tumor and is unable to care for him by herself according to my DD).  He stopped sharing at this point and just looked at me – nervously.  I said to him “Cameron it sounds like a lot is going on for you – are you nervous about grandma going into the hospital for surgery?”  He told me that he was.  I asked him if he knew what he was nervous about. He said he was nervous about “the worst possible outcome – death”. WOW. I don’t think there was any air left in our little bubble back there by the water fountain in the third grade classroom. I wanted to pull him on my lap, hug him and help him explore his fears – I probably would have gotten arrested!

The worst possible outcome – death. For this little boy, his whole world is wrapped around a woman who is his grandmother, a woman who has stepped in out of necessity to take over the duties of his mother, mind you, as she watches her child suffer.  The worst possible outcome for Cameron would be the death of his grandmother. The. Worst. Possible. Outcome. Who is helping this frightened little boy.  He is just a little boy. My heart broke. Is still breaking. He is not engaged with the class. He does not eat his lunch. He has never gone on a field trip with the class. He does not connect with his peers. He stares off into space. I think he is actually already living in “the worst possible outcome”.

Here is my thought process today – what are we doing to discover these children today in our local area.  I know that nationwide we have organizations that reach out to kiddos like this, but they don’t get to everyone.  I have to wonder what would happen to these little people if every classroom had someone, not connected to the kids in that class or school, that came and became their partner in education.  Not to teach them how to read, but to teach them how to trust others and themselves, to believe in themselves, to have a friend To come alongside of them.. I know of several who volunteer and mentor in their local schools – but imagine the impact if you volunteered. Imagine if you had been a teacher and you volunteered.

This is one little boy.  Don’t get me started on the others…. bugs and all. We need to figure out how to get invested in our children.  We don’t need another program, network,organization or room mom with perfect pinterest projects.  We just need to find a way to do something ourselves. I have to figure this out for me too – and if I am unemployed come August, or I am able to convince my employer to pay it forward in this way,  I will be in someones school coming alongside more than one student – so if you have a student in mind and you can use me – just let me know! Let’s not allow our children to experience THE WORST POSSIBLE OUTCOME.