In the Ghetto

"Liz, what is it like teaching at an inner city high school?"

Well, let me tell you. But before I say anything I must say I LOVE IT!!! I wouldn't change it for anything.

The things that will shock you:
I now know what Marijuana smells like. Students smoke it in the stairways daily.
Last week three of my best students were locked up for a fight they got in at school. They were beating on a girl who is 8 months pregnant.
One of my students got locked up for stabbing someone, and she's such a sweet girl.
Their excuses for missing class are "I had to go visit my dad in jail."
They write papers about drugs and sex and how everyone is doing it.
Not a day goes by that I don't here the "F-bomb." They have gotten better though.
In each of my classes I have had a teenage mother. One girl was as young as 14 when she got pregnant. Some of them are great mothers who work full time and plan to still graduate high school, others . . .

The chaos:
There are no walls. That's right. I teach in a school with no walls. Only scattered partitions divide one classroom space from another. Who ever thought that was a good idea had obviously never met a teenager.
Last week there was a gas leak and so they quarantined us all the auditorium (we smelled marijuana that day too, lucky the school didn't blow up). After 3 hours of just sitting in the auditorium they bussed us to a near by Church where we had lunchables and a discussion about the restructuring process.
Fire bells sound almost daily. We do not evacuate the building. We wait for a voice in the main office to come over the intercom and shout "Please disregard the fire bell, please disregard the fire bell." If there ever is a fire we will all die.

The heartbreaks:
I have a student who doesn't even know the letters in the alphabet.
When tested for reading levels 37% of my students were placed on an elementary school reading level.
They write papers about their brother getting killed on the streets.
They write brilliant poems about the disadvantages of being Black in America. I should post some of them. It would blow your mind. Poetry is their thing.

The rewards:
Their elegant poems.
Their excitement over a B or A paper.
Their "your so white" comments with a laugh as I try to sing Chris Brown.
Their surprise when I tell them I've never drank or smoked.
Their being recruited by great colleges to go play football, volleyball, basketball, and track.
Their daily smiles and laughter.

I love my job. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Even harder than serving a LDS mission in a third world country. But just like a mission, it is the most rewarding job I've ever had. I love my students more than they will ever know. I have so much faith and hope for them. I pray they'll rise above their circumstances and show America that they were wronged. That Black kids from the ghetto are just as powerful as anyone else.