I am a SPED teacher at an alternative high school in the D.C. area. Most people think our school district would never have troubled kids since 80% of the district is affluent. In most cases, that’s true, but for my kids, it’s a whole different story.

My kids come from all over the district. Most are of minority descent, and very few are white. Most are from low-socioeconomic homes in the eastern and southeastern part of the county where either mom or dad is not present, and sometimes, grandma is the only guardian. Many of my kids are in gangs, and if they aren’t part of one, they are seen as children who might be good as dead. The worst part is they often don’t know how to handle themselves. They don’t know how to keep track of their money, how to avoid unnecessary situations with the police, or how to take care of their minds. With all that “green” they take in daily, who would expect them to?

You’ve got Natalia who is pregnant working two jobs just so her sick grandma and her baby can live. Lemar who is going to jail for armed robbery. Joselito with an ankle bracelet for stabbing his uncle with a pocket knife. Johnathan who is sent to the school because his base school got tired of him and his depression. The list goes on.

Out of the sadness and chaos that is present, I see myself as a ray of light. A light to show kids that all hope is not lost. A light that asks “Hey, how are you today?”, “How’s your baby?”, “How was court?”, “Would you like to have a snack?”, I even ask them if they “wanna talk about it in my office?” Nine out of ten times they’ll say “please Mr. Smith, I would appreciate that.”

Sometimes I go out of my way during my planning period to check on kids in their classes; especially those on my SPED caseload. I’ll often walk the halls to make sure kids are in classrooms not wandering to get into any more trouble (or go to an undisclosed location to smoke green and God knows what else). Often, and I mean very often, I’ll have a student come to me in the hall and ask, “yo Mr. Smith, can I get some chips though?”

During my instructional blocks, my kids will sometimes say crazy and funny things to me. Some will say to me “yo Mr. Smith, why are you so short ‘short man’.” Or there will be the funny urban joke where my students say “Mr. Smith, Ima steal them shoes off you. C’mon guys lets beat his ass.” Even one of my students sometimes says to me “I love you, Smith.” While all of these might appear to be rude and disrespectful, my kids say these things out of love and respect for me.

I’m almost in tears writing this because it’s hard knowing you have students looking up to you knowing you might be their last hope. Yes, my kids have made mistakes and they might never be out in society ever again, but as an educator, I teach what I can and make every lesson and instructional block meaningful and “lit”, so if they ever do get out of jail or the hole they’re in, they can be prepared for life.

My fellow educators: don’t give up. Enjoy every moment you have with your students. You’ll never know when it will be the last time you’ll see them on the block…