A Boy Named Sean

I've been thinking about something sooooo much lately. Teaching. I do not miss the bureaucracy, the gossip, the grading, the paper work. But I miss students. I miss the way they could make funny comments and then a bad day would turn into a good one. I miss the way they would pick up on a concept, and I could see the light suddenly turn on inside. It's a beautiful thing to see a student succeed. I miss the way that one or two of them would surprise me months and maybe years after I taught them - the way they would say thank you for helping them. I miss the planning sessions with fellow teachers and even by myself because I loved organizing my lessons and my calendar. I miss the creativity.

I've actually been thinking about teaching because of a boy named Sean. And I've been thinking about Sean because of Newt Gingrich. He's attempting to gain the republican presidential candidacy, in case you haven't heard while you were out living on the moon. I'm not a fan, especially after he suggested that kids who grow up in our "poorer" neighborhoods don't have any examples of how to work. Apparently the poor among us choose to be poor and don't care to work because they can get welfare. Are you seriously that blindly biased? Yes, indeed you are.

Because guess what? You don't know a boy named Sean. I taught Sean my first year out as a teacher. Sean wasn't the most fantastic student, and he wasn't the smartest student, although he was smart enough. But he was a good kid, a kind person, funny, lively. He had a lot of personality, and even when we didn't agree or even when I had to get after him for the millionth time, he always treated me well.

Sean was also on the football team, and his coach found him a job every summer so that he could work. The year that I taught him he was pretty excited about the summer landscaping job Coach Adams had helped him find. Sean's mother worked, probably two jobs, although I cannot say that for sure. They did not have a television. I doubt he had a computer. They were poor. They lived in a small apartment and money went to essentials and that was that.

I guess it's the Seans that I miss. I know he could have done better in my class, but he was a good person. He did have a work ethic. He did have a good example at home. I think if Mr. Gingrich knew Sean, he might have something different to say about kids who grow up in poor neighborhoods. Unfortunately I think this is one more example of the way that wealthy and powerful politicians are completely out of touch with real life for the poor and even the middle class in this country. Mr. Gingrich is so far removed from poverty that he's lost sight of what those who struggle to make a living are like.

Lazy is not a symptom of poverty. Some of the poorest among us work the hardest. And anyway, I would take a Sean any day over some of the spoiled students I taught...students who came from wealthy families...in Henderson, Nevada. I would take a Sean because that boy knew what it meant to care about other people.