Rough Stuff

Last night was a very difficult one. I decided to teach on Martin Luther King Jr. and was in my classroom late doing research. Unfortunately, the door I left open to my apartment complex was shut and at 11:30pm I realized that I was locked out. I sat in the cold for awhile but thought it too dangerous to wait any longer for someone to open the door. Thankfully, I had thought to prop open the school door so I could get back in. I ended up sleeping on the floor of my classroom on a reed mat I got in Uganda. It wasn't miserable but it wasn't pretty. I obviously had no night clothes, tooth brush, etc. I heard the sound of the janitor cleaning well into the early morning hours. I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself.

I awoke this morning at 6:00 and headed outside to see if I could find someone to let me into my apartment. Nearly 1.5 hours later, I finally got into my apartment and was forced to scramble to get ready and get back to school. What a flurry of a morning.

But I do love my babies. Today I taught them about one of the heroes of our classroom--Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. We talked about racism, discrimination, the civil rights movement, I have a dream, etc. It was really cool. I started with an experiment with all my babies with two last names being treated very poorly. I didn't let them sit down, I made them write "I have two last names" 25 times--I didn't let them sit with us at reading circle. I praised the other group, gave them granola bars, let them color, etc. Finally, I could bear it no longer as some of my babies were genuinely upset with me and really confused. I had to come clean and tell them that I was teaching them about discrimination. It definitely was risky but I think it really helped the class to see what it looked and felt like.

Things got really heavy during the lecture. My kids talked about times they had been discriminate against. One child bluntly told me how she had been abused. I was horrified and near speechless at her admission. It was only the 2nd day I am already reporting abuse. It makes me want to strive all the more to make my class a place of peace.

After school, I had to go to my college class which is 40 minutes away. Since I don't have my truck keys anymore, I couldn't drive there, but a corps member offered to drive me--such a nice thing on a school night. However, apparently there was some miscommunication because half way through my class she said she wanted to leave and that I had to try to find another ride home. I asked the only other kid from Kyle if he could take me. He really hesitated but finally said yes. I didn't understand what the big deal was until my friend (who was angry about something) left. The boy then asked to speak with me and then bluntly told me that he had a jealous wife and didn't want to take me home. At that point, I was mortified. I have literally never spoken to this guy before in my life. I didn't want to kiss him--I just wanted a ride! Normally, I would have just told him I would find some other way, but there was simply no other option. No one else was going that way or would be willing to take me. I had to basically beg him. He finally agreed to take me and we left after class in complete silence. Not one word was said between us the whole forty minutes. I silently cried the whole way home, mortified that I had to ask him for a ride, hurt that my friend just left me exhausted from little sleep and much stress after missing my keys. When we got to Kyle, I had him drop me off at the corner and I biked home in the rain. I felt quite miserable.

It has been really hard these last few days. All I want to do is cry my eyes out. Losing my keys and phone has been rough. To top things off, my principal told me today that one of the teacher's thinks one of my students stole them--the girl I go to church with! Apparently she is a clepto and I should investigate her. Just the thought that one of my babies would steal from me hurts. Not to mention the fact that she brought me an apple today!!

With all of the trials I am going through right now, I still can rest in the assurance that God has brought me here and that He will never leave me. It is a promise I cling to.