A lesson in Incarceration

I teach law on occasion. On this particular day I was simply introducing features of the American  legal system.

I stated that laws are intended to be interpreted equally for everyone. With this very controversial statement hands flew in the air. I called on one student who would have started speaking even if I did not call on her as she shouted,

Student A (girl) "Laws ain't equal, both my Mommy and Daddy in Jail for drugs, you know dealing and stuff. My mom, she gots 4 years and its getting out in March. I real excited cause she hasnt seen her grandson yet. My daddy he gots 9 years. See laws aint equal".

In a split second I had to make sure that no surprise, shock or judgment appeared on my face, I was a professional. College trained, receiving my masters and national board certification. I must regroup, and just as I am about to constructively redirect the conversation I hear another student speak.

Student B (Boy)"Yeah, they not equal teach, my dad and uncle both locked up. The first time they got 3-5, now they in there 7-10. Whats with that?"

Student C( Boy) "My dad got 12, he wont be out till I'm 25"

Student D (Boy) " Well I got caught dealing and I just got sent to the reform school for a year and I gots to meet with a parole office twice a week, thats why I be missing this class sometimes."

Two more students then shared personal examples of people in their families in jail for dealing drugs. Oh , no I thought, this is getting out of control, people are going to start laughing at these kids, what do I do, I have validate the comment that were just shared. Though shocked, I also realized that for this first time all semester I had every students attention in my classroom. Thinking on my toes I asked "These are great examples, and I really appreciate you all sharing something that is personal with the class, lets talk about why someone would receive a different punishment for committing a similar crime".

Student C "Well my Dad had already got caught before, and he has a semi-automatic on him"
 Me "Those factors definitely contribute to a judges decision when sentencing".

The conversation went on like this, students sharing the amount of drugs that they or their parents had been caught with, and also compared that with the number of offenses that the person had and other pertinent information. I was dumbstruck by their honesty and by what was so normal to them. When I tell this story people laugh, and it is entertaining, the way it all played out, but now it is simply challenging. A challenge to all who encounter these kids.
In reality this was one of the best classes of the year, we discussed crime and punishment, the importance of judges being impartial, recidivism, overcrowding in prison. The difference between juvenile law and adult law as well as the difference between drug trafficking and dealing.

I learned as much as my students that day. My students give me a headache everyday, yet I love each and everyone of them dearly. I resent their parents for putting them through this. I resent that their parents screwed up and have left their kids in a hard place without any guidance. My students, many of them, have had to grow up way too soon. The 1 1/2 that I see them is my time to treat them like the kids they are, in that short time I need to figure out how to make each one of those 36 beautiful faces feel loved, special, and important because they might not ever get that. Lessons like that help me to remember that I am not teaching the curriculum, I am teaching students, whoever they are, where ever they are at. I need to make them feel safe.
From this point on, this class that I had dreaded became the class that I looked forward to. In my room we were our own type of family and I realized that this was why I became a teacher, to change the world one broken, scarred child at a time.

Bad Breath

I was riding home today and telling my ever patient husband another story from school. He just said "this is funny, this is the stuff that people like to read in blogs", so here goes.

I call this one bad breath
I had a young man, for the sake of confidentiality we will call him Nyrik, he got caught dealing Marijuana
  in the boys bathroom and was sent to the local reform school. His mother (who wants to make sure that this does not set back his future as he has every intention of becoming a successful lawyer someday)comes to my classroom to gather up exam review packets. Me, the perpetual optimist who never gives up on her students, gathers the review packets and hands them to the well intentioned mother. I thought the meeting was over. It was not. She then got very close to me, close enough to make out the hairs on her chin and face, this was not nearly as disturbing as the overpowering stench that came out of her mouth.  I could not breathe. She asked me to explain the contents of each page of the review packet so she could help her son succeed. I tried to do this, but found it hard to breathe in and explain an entire course worths ( at least 20 pages) of material.  To fully gather the extent of her breath please imagine moldy cheerios with sour milk combined with week old barbecue chicken and a side of Cajun rice. I stepped back and kindly offered her websites that would help her as she tutored her son along his path of legal success.  She again got very close to me breathing into my face and stated that she very much wanted me to walk her through it not a website. Why do people have to make my job so exhausting? Teaching is hard enough without having to deal with the smell of death during my very short lunch break.  All this for a student whose mother is so blinded by her sons "potential" that she could not find the toothbrush let alone the Colgate needed to freshen up her current situation.