Why? - February 18, 2008

Why? Why would I willingly live such an insane place?  That's what I was asking myself this morning as I (finally) got to school.  I started out the door this morning at 6:45, as usual.  To get to the main door, we have to go out our apartment door into the hall, go out an inside door, around a corner, down some stairs, and then out the main door.  (It's the old elementary school - there are a lot of doors.)  I went out the inside door, around the corner, and saw the main door standing wide open with snow blown in up to the third step.  A bad harbinger of things to come.  But I just figured that the last person in last night didn't shut it too tightly.  I walked out the door and turned towards the road, and that's when I saw the huge drifts piled up across the road.  Huge drifts.  The wind really blew hard this weekend.  Oh, man.  I got about halfway across the first drift when I gave up.  I was sinking in soft snow up to my waist, and that's not an exaggeration.  I was never going to make it to the school at that rate, so I turned around the headed back inside.  I changed into dry pants and put my snowpants on.  As I faced the drift once more, I thought, "There has got to be an easier way to get to school."  I went down and around on the road, away from the school, and followed a snowmachine trail across the basketball court that wasn't quite obliterated by the wind, praying all the while that I wouldn't fall through the snow.  That led me to the road closest to the school.  I followed it around towards the front door.  And that's when I saw the huge drifts piled up in front of the school door, drifts as big, or bigger, than the ones across the road.  I stopped dead in my tracks and said (out loud), "You've got to be kidding me."  I turned around (again) and walked back the direction I came, and followed the road all the way around behind the school and went through the cafeteria door on the opposite side.  It was somewhat sheltered from the wind, so the snow wasn't drifted as bad back there.  I clocked in a couple of minutes before 7.  Why? I got an answer to my question after school.  Most of my students go to the after-school homework club sponsored by the Boys and Girls Club.  The coordinator comes up to the school and helps kids with their homework for an hour after school every day.  One of my boys walked into my classroom about 15 minutes after school got out with the Curious George book he had just checked out from the library open to a page in the middle.  He had a big grin on his face and was obviously pretty excited about what he had found in this book (and pretty proud of himself).  He turned the book around and said, "Look."  It was a picture of Mount Rushmore.  We've been studying symbols and national monuments in social studies, and we haven't gotten to Mount Rushmore yet, but a picture of it is up in my room.  He didn't even know the name of the monument yet, but he recognized the picture, made the connection, and came to show me.  I was so proud of him.  That's why I teach.  That's why I live in such an isolated, insane place.  He caught a glimpse of the bigger outside world today, and recognized it as such.  Most of the time, I'm convinced that what I say goes in one ear and out the other, that they're not paying attention.  But they're starting to make connections, starting to think, and that makes it all worth it.