Simply Compassionate

Hello party people (and potato people),

I survived the first week of fall quarter! YEAHHH. For the first five weeks of early start school, we only had class at night Mon/Wed after a full day at our respective high/middle schools. Beginning this week, we have class on Mon/Wed/Fri and we only go to our school sites Tues/Thurs :( Although, I admit, getting myself to a high school thirty minutes away hasn't been the most ideal (I like my sleep), being at the school site excites me. Everyday I find out something new about individual students, and working with them gives me a glimpse of what I'll be doing in, hopefully, a year. It's so cute when they ask me where I've been and why I've been coming less after this quarter started. This week was especially uplifting. On Tuesday my co-teacher asked me to teach a mini lesson to the freshmen on The Odyssey, referencing the movie La Bestia to make the book applicable to current events. I asked them a fairly simple question, expecting a relatively simple answer. "What is an example of an odyssey you or your family members went through?" I honestly wasn't ready for the answers they shared. I was shocked, horrified, and incredibly, incredibly proud. The freshmen are a pretty quiet bunch, and many of them don't even like sharing SAT practice answers. It took a while for me to find a student open enough to share a small journey they've been through. Honestly, I felt like they were going to say something along the lines of "The transition from middle to high school was a journey I've been through" or "The journey to this class was a hard one. I had to wake up early." While many of them passed, we finally got one willing student. His answer left me speechless. Without getting into too much detail, he basically shared about his home life, the many men that have come and gone from his life, the brokenness of his mother. One by one I heard stories of students immigrating from Mexico, living without family from a different country to learn English, learning that the man they thought was their father wasn't. My heart dropped. I didn't know how to respond to these heartfelt and personal stories. I can't relate to these students in the least bit. I grew up in a stable home, I had both of my parents present, I grew up in this country (this state), and I've been comfortable. How am I worthy of educating these students? I'm not, but I am committing myself to listening, comforting, and pouring care into these students. A degree in English doesn't cut it. It doesn't make you an educator. Hopefully moments like this will remind me to be a constant and compassionate teacher. I pray that God will give me the endurance and a sensitive heart for these students. I love them so so much (although I'm pretty sure they would think that's creepy). Wow... I don't even know how to express what I'm feeling. I wonder what next week will bring :)

Humbled,

S.Park