And then there were the seventh graders.
A portion of them is struggling. There are behavioral issues, and a memory lapse of what school is all about. Still, they come every day and make some kind of effort.
The bigger picture is that writing is hard, no matter where you teach. Some students will get it, and some will not. For those that will not, it’s much harder to catch up because writing, unlike math or reading, is not concrete. It is personal.
Then there is the pandemic, with its masks, and sneeze guards, and community-busting mandate. Where does one even begin?
In addition, our school is in the struggling neighborhood of Brownsville, where 36% of residents live below the federal poverty line, and 44% of adults are unemployed. It also is home to the largest concentration of public housing in the U.S.
Oh, and then there is that little matter of adolescence, including hormones, and an I’m-not-going-to-listen-to-anything-you-say attitude. A winning picture, overall.
And yet, amidst all of this, the seventh graders put together research papers on the Holocaust. Some were rudimentary, reflecting all the work that needs to be done this year, and some were extraordinary, showing thought, effort, and tenacity.
Somehow, there was order out of sheer chaos.