For Steven

I met Steven on the first day of student teaching. He was slumped in his seat, not paying any attention to the classroom teacher. The top of his desk was cluttered with scraps of paper and boxes and the inside of his desk looked no better. Definitely not a working environment. He was using the inside ledge of his desk to write.

I peered over him to read what he was writing. The sentence looked something like this: "cat tree the mouse climb". Steven was a fourth grader. The classroom teacher asked me to do intervention with Steven. I took him out for a few minutes each day to read books at his level, build his sight word base, and, more importantly to me, to build his self-esteem.

My emotions fluctuated that semester depending a large part on Steven. When his eyes brightened as he began to believe in himself again, I rejoiced. But each time he slumped further down his chair and repeated "I suck, I suck, I suck", despite my desperate attempts to stop him, I felt a deeper part of me tearing.

Steven and I worked on a snake project together that semester. He was engaged in reading and writing in a way that I have never seen him engaged before. He even skipped out on a pizza party to keep working! And the prize moment was when he got up in front of his entire class, sweaty palms and all, to present his findings and the diorama he had made the night before. He finally found his voice and place in the classroom and stood confidently. I had hope.

I received an update about Steven this week. He was put in a 5th grade class where the teacher went on long-term leave because of a foot injury. Long-term subs cycled in and out of that class for a semester and the class was out of control. When I heard this update, a desperate sadness welled up within me. That was the last thing he needed.

I remember my goodbye with Steven. He was the last one to give me a hug. He held onto me, looked up, and whispered, "I'll miss you."

I'm frustrted that our education allows kids to get lost for semesters and years at a time. I'm frustrated and sad that I'VE allowed kids to get lost in the cloud of students in my past year of teaching. The truth is, I was only able to do with Steven what I did because I had the opportunity to work with him more individually. What was Steven really going to miss when we said goodbye? He was going to miss someone who gave him the attention he needed and deserved. He was going to miss having someone who had the time to keep pushing him and not allow his "I suck" or his "I don't want to do it" to be the final answer.

How do I let the time and energy and patience I was able to invest in Steven be the norm for my classroom this year? These kids need it and deserve it even in the midst of high-stakes testing and my tiredness. Even in the hopelessness I sometimes feel that leads me to complacency - I have to hold onto hope and manage the outside demands because, I remember Steven...