I reheat my lunch in the nurse's office (a slightly less suspect machine than the one in which JudyOffice warms her U-shaped neck pillow (Disgusting.)).
My mind wanders over the model lungs until I hear something crackling and know the food is done.
My little friend Abdi (protecting the cute-faced innocent) stopped by today with a big grin. He has this inappropriate church giggle thing he does when he's uncomfortable. "What happened?"
He got up to switch chairs and when the teacher yelled, he started laughing:
Insubordination!
Wha?
Go to the office immediately!
Three minutes later, he was crying. "I can't be normal. I either cry or laugh. It's too hard here and I don't understand all the English. [...] When I get home I just need to watch TV to help me get out my stress. So I don't do my homework. I could give up TV."
At that moment I wanted to hold his hand and tell him that he doesn't have to give up TV; that I will buy him a TV chip brain implant so he can watch it all day long, until everything is easier. But I didn't. He blotted the tears in his eyes, left cheap school tissue in their place.
Some days I am bad at this job. I think I know the kids. I assume I know how they are living here and at home, and forget to have them explain it to me. But to imagine going through a day feeling like a failure or reading a textbook in a language other than your own... It makes the stupid stuff seem extra stupid. Except for that bitch with her corn-filled travel pillow.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
those things have this really awful smell...i feel for you sri!
your sensitivity and compassion for this little guy really touched me. i'm glad you are doing what you are doing. miss you!
Post a Comment