Early Morning Thoughts….

I am writing this blog post from a hotel room in San Francisco. It’s raining like hell and I am thinking about all the times I have been in this city before. I remember the first time; I was thirteen. I’d come on a family vacation to visit my Aunt Martha in El Cerrito. She took us to Chinatown and Pier 39 and Muir Wood. My cousin, Patricia drove my brother and I all over in her little Mustang with 80’s rock jamming. We went to the mall to see E.T. IN THE THEATER. It was one of the best vacations of my life.

This time I am here on this trip for professional reasons. San Francisco was just to be an airport hop, but delay after delay has me in the city overnight. I am exhausted, but I have been awake doing A WEEK IN REVIEW in my head.

I told my class on Monday that I was coming to California. At first they were outraged. “No. You can’t go. Who is our sub? When will you be back? Are you coming back? Are you ditching us for DisneyLand? It’s dangerous in California…what if you get shot?” I assured them I would be back and that I didn’t plan on getting shot. Later, during math, one of the boys came up to me and said, “I got you, Miss. I will make sure these homies stay tight. Promise you’re coming back?”

This boy. I can’t say his name, but he is kind of remarkable. He is the kind of student teachers want to strangle. He does very little in the way of academics and falls asleep. He doesn’t have any boundaries and will ask me things like, “Have you ever been in jail?.” He isn’t always nice to other kids, but expects everyone to share with him and treat him like a king. He is disrespectful to adults and if they call him on it, he hates them for life. I watch him run the room. I am not going to lie, sometimes he reminds me of every prison movie I have ever seen. The guy in the yard everyone watches with a mingle of fear, respect, maybe jealousy.

Under all his bravado, this kid has had serious trauma. He watched his own mother catch fire when he was six years old. He threw a bowl of dog water on her to put the fire out. He saw his little sister get run over. He has seen people stabbed and shot. He has dealt with more trauma and death in eleven years than some people see in a lifetime. His academic skills aren’t great, but he is first one to notice if someone in the room is crying. He will stand up for the underdog in a fight. And he will try to make things right if someone goes against his “code.” For example, this week in school he didn’t like how I was being treated by a couple of students, so he made them write me letters of apology. He checked the letters over and sent them back for rewrites. Part of me was amused, and also a little touched that I have entered his circle of protection. I am a little worried about how much power this boy wields, but I do know, no matter what, this kid is a survivor.

Anyway, when I left, all the kids said goodbye and wished me a safe trip and told me not to get killed. I assured them that I would be fine, but travel can be triggering for me. I think it is hold over from losing my parents in an accident. I was worried about Charlie this time. Like would he notice if something happened to me? Who would take care of him? Would he think I abandoned him? Maybe it’s easier to project those feelings on a cat than the people in my life that I love.

It is tempting to blow off why I came here and enjoy what this amazing city has to offer. There used to be a restaurant in Chinatown that you could enter from the alley and be given fresh, hot fortune cookies. My students would love that! But today I am heading up North. The Cascades. The Redwoods. Hoping the weather doesn’t delay my travel anymore. Doing my best to put down my worries and see what the day holds for me.