Sometimes They Just Can't Win

As funny as my students can be and as much as they can make me laugh, they can also break my heart just as easily. When I moved to Memphis, I knew I would learn a ton from the kids, be it slang or customs or culture. One thing I didn't foresee was the hurt and the pain that these kids encounter on a daily basis; life's hard, but sometimes it seems impossible for some of my students.

Yesterday, one of the students in my homeroom came up to me before the first bell rang and asked to use the restroom and I told her she could. (A bit of middle school background: the beginning of the day is as close to a "running of the bulls" as I'll ever come, especially because my room is right next to the drinking fountain and bathrooms.) That said, I didn't remember that I had told A she could use the restroom and just assumed she was running late. As homeroom was ending, she came to my door and apologized for being in the bathroom for 20 minutes, but she needed to talk to me.

AW: "Mr. Lowe, I'm sorry I've been gone so long in the restroom, but I was just sitting on a toilet crying the whole time."

Me: "What's wrong? What's making you cry?"

At this point, I'm honestly thinking that she's having drama with one of her friends because, let's face it, 14-year-old girls can get pretty petty and ruthless at times.

AW: "My dad...was killed last night."

She and I had spoken on previous occasions so I knew that her parents were divorced and she lived with her mom. She wasn't really close with her dad, but I knew that they talked or texted about once a week or so.

I'm still a bit hazy on the details, but apparently he was killed during a robbery by two men who have since been caught by the police.

Tragic.

I remember growing up and the biggest tragedy I encountered was when my best friend's parents divorced after 17 years of marriage. He was destroyed. I thought his world would cave in. We, too, were 14 at the time.

But that pales in comparison to what A is going through.

It's a tragedy that she has to bury her father at 14.
It's a tragedy that she had to find out that he was dead through a text message. It's a tragedy that she lives in an area where this isn't all that uncommon.
It's a tragedy that no matter what she does, she may very well go through this again with someone else in her family.
It's a tragedy that a divorce isn't the biggest letdown of her life.
It's a tragedy.

I had no words for her. I couldn't relate to her because I can't relate to her. My great-grandfather died when he was nearly 90 years old. My sister's best friend died pre-maturely at 25 and that's the closest I've come to death, even though I was 7,000 miles away when it happened. It's unthinkable that I've gone 23 years without experiencing something that a 14-year-old is having to endure right now.

Yes, I'm thankful for my upbringing and feel so lucky to have had that atmosphere growing up. But more than that, I'm terrified for her and every other one of my students who have experienced this. What's going to change it? Education. Who's going to change it? Only themselves. I can do my part, the city can do its part, community leaders can do theirs, but until my students realize that they don't have to experience this, nothing will change. They need to be the change they wish to see.

It's tough to hug a 14-year-old daughter of a murdered man and tell her that everything's gonna be alright because maybe it's not. Maybe not for her. But she can make it so everything is alright for her kids. And her grandkids. And her great-grandkids. But for now, everything's not alright.