Back to School

The smell of sharpened number 2 pencils has slapped me in the face and we are nearing on finishing the first month of school already. Year two is better. Much better. [Mz. Ritz, that is a fragment!] But still really difficult. I am still exhausted and working my butt off every day and every night and every weekend. I am not sure what magical wand I was expecting to be waved over that illusive YEAR TWO, but I am finding myself a little disappointed that I still struggle.

However, this letter to yourself assignment has lifted my spirits again. It's funny how just when I am feeling discouraged and awful and contemplating the wonderful appeal of being a barista at Starbuck's, one of my students does, says, or writes something that reminds me why I am here 12 hours a day.

This student (I had him last year as well) is typically extremely unmotivated in school, defiant, and a struggling writer who has never once used a capital letter correctly writes:

Dear Me,
Their [sic] are several reasons why I don't want to become one of the statistics that Ms. R talked about. For every two black kids that dropout of school, one white kid drops out. I don't want to be one of those two black kids that dropout. I want to make a difference to myself and my family and my culture. I want to graduate from high school and college. I want to receive a master's degree in commitication. I would love to make A difference in my community and to myself.

Sincerely,
me.

Worth it.