An Open Letter to Public School Employees

Dear Public School Employee,

Over the next few weeks your lives are going to intersect with hundreds of others. Some faces will be new, others will be old familiar ones. Every day you will face a very daunting task. A task that seems almost impossible in some cases. You see, the truth is you are going to come in contact with some damaged lives. On the outside, some look normal-like you. Others, well, you have already heard the stories from your friend teachers when you shared your rolls, right? Those kids aren’t too good at keeping it all hidden. You will find others that deal with things in ways that society surely doesn’t understand. You know these kids-kids who are overly sensitive, kids who growl at the lunch table, kids who crawl under desks and start screaming, teenagers who dress weird and and never make eye contact with adults, the kids who never makes an effort. You see, after a while of seeing these lives day in and day out, your brain starts making these assumptions. Assumptions that they are “just mean.” “That kid just needs someone to…” “If that were my kid, I would …” “He/she just doesn’t care about anything.” “That kid deserves…”

Do you mind if I share some very raw truth with you for a while? This girl I knew one time loved school. It was one of her favorite places. It didn’t take her long to figure out she could succeed quite easily. It all began in headstart. Yep, poor little girl, right? Poverty. I heard her once share a memory of a teacher talking to another one and telling her how that little girl would be so pretty if her parents would just care for her. You know what she meant-dress her in boutique clothes with matching bows, make sure every hair was in place every morning or slap name brands on her chest and shoes. (That shows they are cared for, right?) By the time she was in the middle of first grade-I bet you could guess-she had three schools on her insert/cumulative folder already. And guess what, at this point, they were doubling up with grandma. So now, we get to populate her as homeless according to the McKinney-Vento Act. Anyway, during her academic career, she had 2 more transfers added to the folder. She was the kid who teacher didn’t mind having in class-scored above the 95th percentile on most standardized tests, not a behavior problem, and tried to please the teacher. She was even chose for the lead role in the school-wide 5th grade play, “Cinderella.” Yes, she was Cinderella. She shared one time the memory of the music teacher in charge of the play. She often wouldn’t remember her name and would call her, “Cinderella” instead. She came to school almost every day. By high school, she looked on the outside like she had it together. Her life circumstance had definitely changed. She now lived in a new 2-story house on a few acres. Her transportation over her 4 years in high-school—2 brand-new vehicles. And name brand clothes—she got whatever name she wanted. All seemed well? Right?

The truth is my life was actually a living chaos inside. I walked into a building everyday bringing so much junk with me. I brought in luggage filled with years of sexual abuse by a stepfather. I had another suitcase laying in the aisle beside my desk filled with statements of an angry stepmother who told me I was nothing, I didn’t matter and I wasn’t all that my daddy thought. I am sure I hate mayonnaise today because of the memories of her making me eat her mashed potatoes in which she added mayonnaise to. To this day, when I accidentally swallow some, it floods my brain. I had a boyfriend in junior high and high school who was poison to my brain and I actually chose to put my life in danger many nights by getting into the car with an already drunk driver. I brought all this and dropped it around my desk everyday. So many teachers and staff stepped around the luggage. I don’t blame them. They didn’t have time. I mean, do you know how many other students were in there that had even more bags than me? The task seems almost impossible. I am sure it was much easier to just walk around all that. 

I can attest that it is much easier to just take what kids give you on the outside. If a kid is always angry-just get angry back. If a kid makes stupid choices repeatedly, just find ways to humiliate them in class. Have an overly sensitive kid, be hard on them-toughen him/her up. Have that one that keeps taking up so much of your time because of those weird things-it will all be ok when they finally test into SPED, right?

The point of my letter is this. All of you-teachers, assistants, secretaries, counselors, janitors, superintendents, and central office staff-you have an incredible opportunity everyday. I had a teacher in high school who cared enough about me to take time with me. He challenged me to get out of my comfort zone and try something. Somehow, I succeeded. It changed my life’s course. I can firmly attest that had it not been for his time and patience with me I would not be who I am today. No, he didn’t have to open all those nasty suitcases I brought with me to school everyday. As far as I know, they were invisible to him as well. Mr. Lathan Walton only had to recognize a strength, just one. He saw it-I didn’t even know it existed. He challenged me—actually kept bothering me (I was a teenager, right) about trying something.  The rest, well-it’s history now and I am forever grateful.

People, you have a responsibility to treat every life you intersect with respect. Sometimes, those lives are going to be really hard to treat with respect. I know the stories-I have seen them with my own eyes. But I beg you—care for them. Care for them even when they reject it. Be the one who sees that one good thing. Be the staff member who points at names on rolls and challenges the next year’s teacher to continue the good work in that child’s life. Be committed that regardless of whatever a student brings on the outside-you are going to treat them like their life actually matters. Because guess what—IT DOES!

Working as a counselor, I know the frustration. Someone comes to register and the story…well, it is just plain complicated. No bills in guardians name, no this, no that…then all of a sudden, the story changes. You go discuss it with the principal-just send them home until they get it all together. Over time, these things tend to harden you. It becomes easy to spout out the “list” of the requirements. I beg you—those lives matter. Even the mom that visibly has a case of “meth mouth” “or the one who is calling her lawyer—she matters too” Oh, and that one-who just sent the kid to the new school on the bus-the one that didn’t even bother to come in…how about this time you don’t stop to rant with secretary about it. Instead, reach out-do and act of kindness—will it kill you? And my final soapbox before I close my computer-IF YOUR NAME BADGE HAS THE TITLE COUNSELOR AND YOU HAVE ALLOWED YOURSELF TO ASSUME A ROLE IN WHICH YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT CRAP THAT HAPPENS ON PAPER—THERE ARE PLENTY OF TRAINED PROFESSIONALS ON YOUR CAMPUS THAT ARE SUPPOSE TO BE HANDLING THAT. I KNOW IT IS EASIER TO LOOK AT DATA, MEET DEADLINES WITH PAPERWORK, AND HELP MAKE SURE THINGS GO SMOOTHLY AT YOUR SCHOOL. HOWEVER…YOU HAVE A PROFESSIONAL AND ETHICAL RESPONSIBILITY (GO READ THE CODE OF ETHICS IF YOU HAVEN’T IN A WHILE) IF YOU HOLD THE TITLE “COUNSELOR” TO ENGAGE IN BEHAVIORS THAT ARE CLEARLY DEFINED BY STANDARDS (AND LAWS IN MS). End rant…

One day, I knocked on the door in which my high school counselor resided. My heart was beating like crazy. I had this wild thought that I might just tell a little of my story. I wondered if he would care? I knocked and opened the door. I was met by a cold, “What do you want?” I quickly created a question about correspondence courses.” He snapped, “You don’t take those unless you fail.” I said ok and walked on down the hall to my class that day. Obviously, he didn’t care or at least that is what his behavior said. His behavior did plant a seed—a seed inside that said-you should be a school counselor and try to do this a little different. Kids in the halls need someone to listen. By all means, I was not a great counselor everyday. I closed my door, got frustrated with students, gave up trying at times…but ultimately, everyday was new and the Spirit inside of my couldn’t live that way long periods of time because it is just wrong.

Public school folks-every face you see matters. Don’t give up when everything you “see on the outside” just looks so bad. Try even harder. The smallest efforts are noticed and when these kids are one day old enough to write and tell their stories-I hope you are listed as one who noticed them.