they just kinda seem to jump out of me...

today was just one of those days. i'm trying this new thing of being emotional - when the situation is safe, actually letting myself feel. but its been hard - its a scary thing to just let them seep out, not knowing what shape they will take once out, and how they will be received.'

all this to say i had a hard day at school. during a discussion about the presidential candidates and their stances, we got on the issue of race and education. at first, i felt leery but excited - my mentor (an awesome awesome awesome white man) jumped at the chance to talk about affirmative action, racial precedences, etc.

then that one comment came.

"my advisory leader told me that our school is suffering from affirmative action. she said that we are letting in unqualified students who are lowering our prestige"

this comment seeped out amongst the cacophony of voices that is my average ninth-grade-class day. i heard it. it registered. we moved on.

only later did i come back to it with my mentor:

"there are some teachers here that you just have to let go." shirk.

i let the emotion out...it was shirked... then i did something maybe dumb. i looked up my student's advisor. turned out to be a woman that invited me to her home. that i eat lunch with often. we joke, nudging shoulders and wagging eyebrows at each other in the hallway.

damn.

then to P- Academy. going through the same depressing neighborhood. the weather echoed my mood. i pulled my rain jacket closer, leaning into the wind as i walked to the school. i had to stop to take in the semblance of a school across the street - broken windows, collapsed doors, the weight of economics, race, and colored dreams and little kid giggles had, in their rush, pushed the doors off their hinges in a rush to cross the street into the newer building.

but walking into the classroom, i felt good. i had validation that my kids weren't "bad" or "hyper".

read: its wasn't because they were black that they were acting crazy. they were simply exhausted third graders here because they couldn't read as well as MO said they should.

instead of yelling, thumping heads and snatching kids into the hallway for our "discussions", i laughed, giggled with them, tickled them into submission with my wishes for them to do the assignment.

memories:
little girl hands and nappy curls
...as i sat collecting papers, one little girl edged closer and closer to me as i helped a little boy spell. she tentatively rested her hand on my shoulder. i did nothing - just kept working with the little boy. she cautiously placed both hands in my hair, then felt her own straightened-in-need-of-a-touch-up hair. she massaged her hands into my fro, patted it back into place, and walked slowly away to play with some blocks...

a good kind of contagious
... s, a round, pudgy dark brown boy who knows that donny hathaway was the original, not chris brown, launched into an announcement the way that third graders do - loudly, quickly and with and e.e. cummings approach to speaking - about how he wasn't gon be here tomorra cause im finna GO to the beach! imma have my sungl. glasses on and we gon'
go vis
it charley! "is charley your cousin?" NAW! Ms. ... mscross he my friend!!
and he launches into this giggle. this giggle that warmed something inside of me so quick that a giggle escaped my lips before i knew it. this only fueled his own giggles as he rocked forward and back. others around him giggle with surprised expressions, not knowing why they must laugh, but accepting it. its such a beautiful sight that i want to cry - this unimpeded, unapologetic, un-self-conscious laugh that grips the class and stays, floating above our circle of block-building.

little girl hands of a different color
...earlier, at my job, i began observation of the lower school. the JK kids. r had watched me since i entered and decided without my knowledge to make me her friend. she came over and, with the softest touch, rubbed my arm. not a "does-it-rub-off" question, but a simple statement - "you are nice. come play with me". a comforting embrace, she pulled me to help color her purple and yellow giraffe. she continued these innocent brushes, and finally ended just resting on me as we watched some of her classmates play in the kitchen cooking "warm winter foods"...

why can't it always be like that between us?