I remember her face. A sweet smile. Long, shiny blonde hair. Sparkly blue eyes. A look of determination situated between her biting of her lip and her gripping of her pen. She would succeed. And succeed she did. She spent her life fighting dyslexia and, though enjoying a good story and good discussion, always found English class to be an uphill battle of words in her mind and on her page. She worked and worked and worked. She focused. She revised. She conferenced. She improved. And finally, the day came when she received that essay, that elusive, difficult A. Tears streamed down her face and onto her pages. She took that essay home and hung it on the fridge - a first to finally happen in her eleventh year.
I remember her face. A silly grin. Big, hopeful brown eyes. Always joking. Always hugging and laughing, yet under her humor brewed a touch of despair. She knew she could succeed, but she hadn't yet. And her attempts to achieve on state testing continually fell short. Just shy. She spent her life improving and learning and maintaining a smile even when it was hard. In tutoring, she worked and worked and worked. She focused. She questioned. She practiced. She improved. And finally, the day came when she burst through the classroom door, latest state score report in hand, and knocked me over with her hug and her joy. "I did it!" she yelled as we embraced through tears. Other students stared in awe - it was possible, even in her twelfth year.
I remember her face. An inviting smile. Beautifully smooth skin. Delicate features with a foundation of fierce wrapped in a hijab. She was a scholar and a student of knowledge. She knew much and found her niche in academic competition, yet she felt the eyes that watched her closely. She worked and worked and worked. She spoke openly and compassionately. She focused. She prepared. She modeled. She improved. And finally, the day came when she traveled out of zip code, her parents' worries close to her heart and mine, and she competed. Determination spread across her face as she told her story, collaborated with her teammates, and participated successfully and without prejudice like any other student - all in her twelfth year.
These and legions more are the faces of public school students. They are resilient and determined, successful and hopeful - all on their locally zoned campuses. They didn't go to a private school or a religious school or an independently funded school. They went to mine. And they are only the beginnings of the stories my educator friends and I can tell about the incredible things happening daily in our rooms and hallways.
For these three ladies, for my former and current students, for my own two children, and for all publicly educated kids, I called my senators to voice my opinion regarding public education and the frightening trends emerging. Is there a place for private and specialized schools? Of course there is! Are some private schools offering an excellent education? Of course they are! But to imply that all public schools are a tragedy and a train wreck is simply wrong. And to continue siphoning funds from a free, public education is a severe mistake.
Thus, I implore you to also make those calls. Parents, educators, community members - even students! Call. It's easy. I didn't realize how easy until now. I'll continue as well. We must.
And, if for some reason you have reservations about public school and the promise within, I invite you to my campus and my class. Room 1600 is open; come see the faces of the future. I know you'll be amazed!
I remember her face. A silly grin. Big, hopeful brown eyes. Always joking. Always hugging and laughing, yet under her humor brewed a touch of despair. She knew she could succeed, but she hadn't yet. And her attempts to achieve on state testing continually fell short. Just shy. She spent her life improving and learning and maintaining a smile even when it was hard. In tutoring, she worked and worked and worked. She focused. She questioned. She practiced. She improved. And finally, the day came when she burst through the classroom door, latest state score report in hand, and knocked me over with her hug and her joy. "I did it!" she yelled as we embraced through tears. Other students stared in awe - it was possible, even in her twelfth year.
I remember her face. An inviting smile. Beautifully smooth skin. Delicate features with a foundation of fierce wrapped in a hijab. She was a scholar and a student of knowledge. She knew much and found her niche in academic competition, yet she felt the eyes that watched her closely. She worked and worked and worked. She spoke openly and compassionately. She focused. She prepared. She modeled. She improved. And finally, the day came when she traveled out of zip code, her parents' worries close to her heart and mine, and she competed. Determination spread across her face as she told her story, collaborated with her teammates, and participated successfully and without prejudice like any other student - all in her twelfth year.
These and legions more are the faces of public school students. They are resilient and determined, successful and hopeful - all on their locally zoned campuses. They didn't go to a private school or a religious school or an independently funded school. They went to mine. And they are only the beginnings of the stories my educator friends and I can tell about the incredible things happening daily in our rooms and hallways.
For these three ladies, for my former and current students, for my own two children, and for all publicly educated kids, I called my senators to voice my opinion regarding public education and the frightening trends emerging. Is there a place for private and specialized schools? Of course there is! Are some private schools offering an excellent education? Of course they are! But to imply that all public schools are a tragedy and a train wreck is simply wrong. And to continue siphoning funds from a free, public education is a severe mistake.
Thus, I implore you to also make those calls. Parents, educators, community members - even students! Call. It's easy. I didn't realize how easy until now. I'll continue as well. We must.
And, if for some reason you have reservations about public school and the promise within, I invite you to my campus and my class. Room 1600 is open; come see the faces of the future. I know you'll be amazed!
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