An 8th Grader’s Vow: “Yes, We Will”

[Editor's note: Ms. Mc is the pseudonym of a first-year teacher in an intermediate school in Brooklyn.]

November 5, 2008 was just as monumental for me as the night before, when we elected Barack Obama as our president. Walking into school, a little groggy from celebrating with the rest of NYC the night before, I climbed the three flights of stairs to my classroom, where I was immediately blasted with music from the social studies teacher’s classroom down the hall. Everyone was abuzz with our new found history and leader. I joined in with many of my fellow colleagues and quite a few early arriving students and rapped/sang, “Yes we did! Yes we did!”

A few minutes later, I opened the door to my classroom and realized that I didn’t want to teach a lesson today. No one did. I wanted to use what happened the night before to talk to my kids about how important this election was to them. I wanted to stop and talk about history, about life right now, about the future of this country. I wiped off my chalkboard and wrote a journal: “What were your thoughts/reactions to Obama being elected President? What does this mean for America? What does this mean for you?”

My first 8th grade class (the honors class) came in, and we had a great discussion. They were very insightful and emotional and just uplifted by the event. I was impressed with their words and interpretations of the whole thing. Many of them cited how Obama was headed for hard times, and they expressed their fear of him being assassinated. They talked about his policies and wondered how or if he would put them into place. I was amazed with their knowledge.

My second 8th grade class, the class that has brought me to tears of frustration and hurt twice already that year, came in next, and this is where magic happened. They completed the journal, and I told them that I wanted to have a good discussion. I wanted them to be respectful of their peers while they took turns expressing their thoughts. I let them know that I would give them three chances to listen and take turns, and then if they used all three, then I would have to go on with a lesson. We were able to discuss the first question, but when it came time to talk about what it meant for America, unfortunately, all three chances were up. Their usual chatty behavior took over, and they became suddenly bored.

Disappointed, I sat in my director’s chair and told them that I wanted to convey a message. I wanted them to understand that by the events of the election, I hoped they learned something. I told them that they should now realize that they can do ANYTHING with their lives. There is not a single barrier holding them back any longer. I told them that they are at a crucial age in their lives, where they can either go up or down, and that I can relate to their position. There were still a few side conversations here and there, but as I began my own person story, the room became silent.

I told them about my experience in middle school… about how I was a bad kid. I skipped school. I cussed out my parents. I was in a bad crowd and I didn’t care about anything or anyone except my best friend. They were shocked and asked, “But Miss… how did you change to who you are now?” I told them that it had to take something dramatic. I let them know that I almost lost my best friend, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. My best friend, thankfully, survived, and I “woke up.”

From there, it turned into an amazing discussion that lasted a solid hour. It started with one kid. One boy raised his hand and began telling the class about how he was abused when he was younger and sent to a shelter. He explained that this is why he has an anger problem because he has flashbacks, and he’s trying so hard to get better. Three more hands went up to share stories. The numbers doubled. One at a time, kids were sharing their stories. My students shared stories of rape, suicide, losing parents to prison, murder, abandonment, talking about gangs, selling drugs, being in foster care. They were opening themselves up to stories they’ve never told anyone before. Kids were crying. Kids were standing up to hug their classmates and putting a hand on their shoulders. Some were expressing that they felt like things were their fault, and others were consoling them. Looking around the room, I saw my students — the ones who terrorize most of the teachers on my hall, the ones who get sent to the dean’s office daily, the ones who have cursed me as well as each other — with tears in their eyes and a passion and care for each other that I’d never seen before. I was in tears with all of them. They listened and didn’t dare talk over anyone.

The lunch bell rang, and no one moved. They waited for the last student to finish and didn’t want to stop. I told them that I was so happy they decided to talk, and I hope that we can continue to listen to each other and support each other. I told them they are all amazing and inspirational and they have nowhere to go but up. They all walked out with their heads held high, and it was indescribable.

It was the best day of my entire teaching career, and I will never forget it. Ever. All that I’ve been through has been worth it. I don’t regret a single day that they have tested me or cursed me. I understand them now, and they are already proving themselves as great people.

Tagged: Brooklyn, election '08, middle school, Obama

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