Last December, when I filled out the personal statement part of my teacher’s college application, I wrote that it was the emotions involved in teaching which drove me towards the realm of education. As a reading mentor and tutor, I loved witnessing the joy in a child’s face when they mastered a concept they had previously struggled with. And I felt a child’s frustration when they didn’t quite get it. I wanted more of those emotions. However, as a tutor, I would sit with a child for 1 hour, once a week and focus only on their academics. I never created any sort of relationship beyond our objective of completing homework.

Yet, in only a few short weeks, the students in my placement class and I have created a relationship which goes well beyond that of a tutor and their charge. I know how many brothers and sisters the students have, I have learned what they like to do on the weekends, I have witnessed they’re individual learning styles and I have come to understand the realities that some of these children live with.

During the first week of school, there was one child in particular who caught my eye. Every day that week “Sam” came to school with only a small bag of cereal for both snack and lunch; a few times they had a yogurt tube. Although I noticed the situation, I didn’t give it much thought. At times, my own children eat their lunches on the bus ride to school, and I figured Sam had done the same.

Then last Tuesday, Sam brought just two cookies for snack and lunch. Again, I didn’t give it much thought until I saw Sam eat just one cookie and then wrap up the second one ever so gently. The expression on Sam’s face said ‘I really want to eat that cookie, but if I do, I know I’ll have nothing else to eat.’

Like I mentioned earlier, I entered the teaching profession because of the emotions. However I hadn’t even considered these heart-wrenching moments. This situation has rocked me to the core. The very idea that an eight year old lives with such an unimaginable weight on their shoulder, absolutely breaks my heart. It makes me wonder about the other children in the classroom, in the school and in the community - what realities do they live in?

For the past week, I have raked my brain on how I could ‘save’ Sam. I thought I’d bring them lunch every day or even give an anonymous donation of a grocery store gift card to their family. Then on Sunday, as if it was a sign, I read a quote on a friend’s (who happens to be a teacher) wall - “I may not be able to change the world, but I can certainly make a difference’. With that, I have realized that I can’t be Sam’s savior nor I can’t change situations beyond my control. I can however help to create a classroom where Sam and all the other children like them, feel safe and welcomed.

I brought apples that I had picked over the weekend to class yesterday. I didn’t want to direct any attention to Sam, plus every one can benefit from eating a little healthier, so I offered the apples to whole class. A few children ate them including Sam but most of the students were content to eat their own snacks. While this gesture certainly didn’t change Sam’s situation, but I hope that they ate the apple realizing that someone noticed and that someone cares.

As I reflect back on this situation, it only serves to fuel my desire to teach even more. Despite the fact that my tear ducts have all but dried up, I can't wait to get back into the classroom. And if at the end of my teaching career, I have made just one difference in just one child's life, then I'll consider that a job well-done.



Photo source: Poundingheartbeat.com