Big Future Ahead

Another school year has come and crawled by…

This January, I was lucky enough to end up back in a position teaching high school English. After taking a year to step outside of K-12, I had a refreshed perspective on K-12 education and was excited to put back on my English Teacher Hat. I am comforted to see that while times change, kids generally stay the same- as made evident by this picture that I found doodled on one of my desks.

I am teaching in a large school that sits right in the middle of a highly diverse, Mississippi city. I went to college here, but my perception of this place has changed tremendously since moving back as an adult.

As a college student, I saw this city as a peaceful, congenial place. I had a few regular places I would frequent: an abandoned railroad track swung over a trickling brook, a couple of shoebox bars that served my favorite drink for less than 3 dollars apiece, a hillside that was perfect for a hammock and a book, and the many sparingly maintained apartments of my friends. This city was home. It was the place where I became the person that I am proud to be. It introduced me to people whom I have kept and will forever cherish. It was far enough from where I grew up to allow me space to stretch and form into an independent person while being close enough for me to race home for hugs from my dad when I realized that the world was, in fact, as difficult as I’d imagined it to be. In my mind, this city was the university… with peripheral entities that simply centered around the university.

Years later, I moved back to this sweet, Mississippi city- with my two daughters and my husband. At first, the city felt the same. We spent evenings eating at the small café across the street from our favorite night-time haunts. We strolled across campus, kicking a ball through open areas while the girls marveled at the beautifully kept flowerbeds. The city was the university, and we enjoyed experiencing it just as we had throughout our college days.

But in January, my perspective changed. I was hired to teach English at the public high school in the city, and for the first time, I realized that the university is just a piece of this manifold, Mississippi municipality. My students have shown me sides of childhood that I did not meet in my own experience. Some of them live more difficult lives than any adults that I know- lives that I did not imagine to exist within this city. For the first time, I see that the university is just a piece of this place. This city is not as peaceful and simple as I’d thought it to be, and I have been so thankful to get to know this city as a whole.

Some people talk down on Mississippi, and I’ll be the first to tell you that Mississippi has its issues. We are behind; this is true. We are ever-fighting against the transgressions of those before us- whether this be in race, education, economics, feminism, religion, or any of the assortment of areas where policy has tied Mississippi in its arms and kept it captive in the grip of the past.

But let me tell you… these kids are not only the future, but they bring a Bright future. Just a few days ago, I sat down with one of my sweet babies who wants to be a truck driver after seeing this masterpiece that he penciled on my desk. (Pencil comes off with one, quick swipe of a wet paper towel, so my concern was more with the meaning behind his message than its presence on school property.) He does not excel in my class, nor does he excel in many of his other classes, but this child is here every single day, and he wants to be successful. For this, I know that he will succeed. Some of my students are heavily involved in very dark activities, and while most of this involvement can be attributed to their environments and to adults that have failed them as leaders, these children want better for themselves. They say things to me like “I just want to do well for my family” or “I want to make my family proud.” And for a lot of these students, this means leaving Mississippi. It means leaving this sweet town with which, for a decade now, I have been infatuated. And this makes me both happy and sad.

I am sad because I want these beautiful minds to remain in Mississippi. I want them to raise babies here that are just as determined as they are to leave this world better than they found it. I want to teach their children and to have a front-row seat to the good that they will bring to this place.

But at the same time, I am happy because I know that their progress outruns the progress of Mississippi. They are growing on a timeline to which Mississippi cannot affix. And while this is depressing to me, selfishly, I understand that it is Good. It is Good that these children are not waiting around for their lives to welcome their lifestyles. It is Great that they are demanding better from the world around them. And I hope that in pursuit of these great humans, Mississippi will eventually become a place that fosters achievement to the degree of some other places to which my students flee.

This world is lucky to have these children. This state is lucky to know them. And I hope that this Mississippi city will be lucky enough to keep some of them. The preservation of the sweetness of this city depends on the perseverance of these wonderful minds.

For this season, I am thankful, and for this Mississippi city, I am grateful.