The Burden and The Blessing

I love my job. Simply put, there is absolutely no task that I can imagine doing that would bring more joy, more fulfillment, and more of everything wonderful in my life. Each and every morning when I get out of bed I know that I am going to have the opportunity to interact with, to teach, and to learn from some of the most remarkable young people on this planet.

This is my third year teaching ESL full-time in an urban school district and it is, by far, the best one yet. The past two years I have taught middle school. This year, I made the move to a school a few blocks from where I have spent the last two. I teach in a building that gets a really bad rap due to its location in the most impoverished area of our city, the lowest graduation rates in the area, and who knows what else. But, can I tell you something? This place is unbelievable. I am amazed each and every day. Overwhelmed too, but amazed. And there is no place else I would rather be. 

At the beginning of the current school year, I had 13 students...yep, only 13. They had been in Syracuse ranging from 2-8 years and had all tested in the lowest two levels of English proficiency. Over the last few months, that number has more than doubled...I think the last count had 27 on my roster. I've welcomed siblings from Somalia, Sudan, and Vietnam. I have received other new students from Nepal, the DRC, Iraq, and Burma. Refugees, mostly. A few immigrants...but mostly refugees. Some have come knowing a little English while others know none. Some are 14. Some are 18 (or so they say, but I'm really convinced that a few are pushing 22). Our classroom is a community that celebrates diversity in all of its beautiful, wonderful, various forms. And I love it.

Each of my students has a unique story. Some that I know well and could rehearse back to you. Some that I know brief snippets of. And some that I have not even begun to hear. But they all have a story. 

Sometimes when I hear their stories or see glimpses of them in the eyes of my students, it becomes a burden that seems far too heavy to carry. Sometimes when I realize that our broken system is expecting students who have never before had access to formal education to pass difficult state exams without first learning the basics, I become overwhelmed. Sometimes when I see the brokenness that continues to pervade their lives after they have come to a "better" place, my heart breaks and the burden seems unbearable. Sometimes when I realize that I am one of the first consistent people to welcome them and help them adapt to life in a new country, I begin to feel inadequate and burdened once again. 

But then there are the other moment. The other days. The ones in which I am overwhelmed by the blessing that this work is. The moments in which students who have had everything stacked against them overcome the odds and experience incredible academic success. The days on which my students ask seemingly silly, yet indescribably meaningful questions like, "Can I be your sister?" The times when I realize that I have the undeniable, absolutely incredible privilege of walking through life day by day, side by side with some of the most resilient people on this planet. 

These "kids" are going places in life. They know where they have come from. They know what they have overcome already. And they know they aren't finished yet. They journey on day by day, one step at a time. And I'm the lucky one who gets to watch and learn and celebrate and sometimes even teach them a thing or two. 

I pray that even in the moments that I feel burdened and bogged down and inadequate that the reality of this blessing might shine through in an undeniable, unbelievable way.