Wild Berry Jam For Burnt Toast Days

Wild Berry Jam for Burnt Toast Days

There are those days, those glorious days, when students arrive on time…yes all of them. Those days, precious days, when students did read the assignment and students did complete the homework. There are those days, magnificent days, when students ask insightful questions, create masterpieces, and work harmoniously together.

I make a mental note of those days. I breathe deeper and stare harder. I record sounds on the audio tape file of my memory. I snap a Polaroid and string the drying image on a line across my mind. I want to preserve those glorious, precious, magnificent days like wild berry jam.

I know that there will be burnt toast days. Burnt toast days when I will need to rewind and play the tape of voices chattering at perfect pitch, on cue, on topic, on task. Burnt toast days when I need to reach up for that Polaroid and study the attentive eyes, the engaged body language, and the curious smiles.

Amy’s late to class again. She’s wearing oversized hoodies and baggy sweats. She had a fight with her dad last week and went to crash at mom’s. Mom’s latest boyfriend creeps her out. He’s too friendly. She tried to talk to mom. Mom chose him. Amy’s orphaned. She has no idea where she’ll be tonight. Being tardy is the least of her problems.

Jordan didn’t read the assignment and he didn’t complete the homework. He found a ride to his job straight from school. He closed again. On Friday, he’ll cash his check and give his mom every dollar. It’s all they have to live on since his dad bailed two months ago. He tries to keep up because he can’t afford a four hour detention. He needs all the hours his boss will give him. Skating between an F and a D- is the least of his problems.

C.J. didn’t participate today. She’s changed. I’m not sure what happened. She used to ask those insightful questions. Is it a boyfriend thing? Is she being bullied? She has shut down and the wall is up. She’s lost. Losing credit for a partially created dodecahedron based on the characters in a Victorian novel just doesn’t seem relevant. Caring about her G.P.A is the least of her problems.

And when I see those frightened, exhausted, hurting students I know that they’re having a burnt toast day, month, semester. I can’t “fix” the world. I can’t change other people. I can’t even explain why there’s so much heartache in the lives of these promising young people I am privileged to know.

So, I’ll work on not rolling my eyes when Amy walks in half an hour after the bell. I’ll work on not jumping to conclusions and pegging Jordan as lazy for not turning in homework. Again. I’ll work on being patient with C.J. and I’ll remind her that I’m available if she needs someone to talk to. I’ll work on being a better me.

You see, I'm a student too...I'm learning with and I'm learning from my students. I'm learning that burnt toast is salvageable… even palatable when smothered in wild berry jam.