A TeachingMoment

I just wanted to share a story from RYDC tonight before I go to bed.

Yesterday was one of those days. You knew when you woke up that it was going to be one of those days. You hit the alarm, and hope that it all goes away. Surely this day will disappear before it even starts. But, no. Ten minutes later the day is still there and you still have to get up and go to work. So you roll, achingly, out of the warm bed, and stumble to the dresser to begin the daily routine all over again. You turn on a little music, happily listening to Jeremy Camp, and slowly waking up. Prying open your eye to put in the darn contact that just does not seem to want to go in. Finally prepared to face the day, you quickly throw a lunch together and grab a smoothie from the fridge for breakfast, and hope you have time to drink it before you get to work.

Once at work, you rush through signing in, getting searched, turning in the keys, and getting organized. Finally able to smile a bit because you have awakened, you start to greet the officers and other staff. Two hours into the happy day, you (and your supervisor) come to the realization that one of the teachers is missing and the juveniles have been brought into the recreation/lunch room during what would normally be their math period while the window is being repaired in the missing teachers room. They are playing cards, talking, and doing whatever they please, and no one has given thought to their actual schoolwork. Well, this is where you come in. This is what they hired you for. To be a substitute. So you answer the call of duty and run around, getting their folders, and pencils, and books, for fifteen residents. Which is totally wasted because every single last one of them is refusing-vehemently- to do their work. In fact, the language directed towards you and the officers is quite colorful. Finally, it dawns on a few that you will make sure there are consequences and they wise-up and attempt some schoolwork, which you gratefully accept and hand over their work, while taking down the names of the others. Two periods later you go through the same process with another group of juveniles, who thankfully give in quicker to your persistence. However, you do not get to escape the rebels in the group, which includes getting kicked by one of the sweethearts, among various other verbal demands, etc.

Finally! The teacher arrives and you can return to the special education class where you are normally assisting. And it is within one of the last hours of the schooldays that one child changes it all. He is learning about (x,y) intercepts, and needs help because he does not have a clue. Tired and fed up with the morning part of the day, you walk over and take a look at what he has on the desk. And amazingly, you realize that you just learned this in your past College Algebra class. The one you hated. Despised. Barely passed. Yep. That one. The one you never thought would help you in life or ever use again. And you are able to walk step by step with the juvenile through the examples and see that light in his eyes shine brilliantly when he gets it on his own for the first time. And then he tells you that at the other detention center he had tried to learn it, but it was never explained to him. Yes. You were finally, for a short moment in time, be a teacher. Despite all the trials through the College Algebra class, despite all the hardship at your own job. You were finally able to have a teaching moment.

And you know what?

It was worth it.

~*~Leave a Legacy that Will Make a Difference in the World Around You. ~*~