Thursday, October 3, 2019

Notes from public school - day 32

Early in the morning, on my way to school, I pass two smoke stacks rising into the sky from the old Poe Mill in west Greenville, South Carolina.

One of the smoke stacks has a tree growing out of the top of it.

I marvel every time I see it.

Life.

A tree.

How can it grow THERE?

It has become a symbol for me of the students for whom we care at our Title I school not far down the road from that tree growing in the smoke stack.

More than half of my students came to my fourth grade classroom from Mexico, Central America and South America.

Read two books, one fiction, The Only Road by Alexandria Diaz, the other non-fiction, The Beast:Riding the Rails and Dodging Narcos on the Migrant Trail by Óscar Martínez, to understand what it is like to get from where they were to where they are now.

You will see.

They are that tree.

Most of my students come from economically poor households.

“What kind of books do you like to read? What kind of books do you have on your bookshelf at home?” I asked one of my students I was sitting beside at lunch the other day.

“We don’t have many books, Mr. Barton,” he answered. “We just tryin’ to use our money to eat.”

Read There Are No Children Here by Alex Kotlowitz to understand what it is like as a child to live in economic poverty in the United States.

You will see.

They are that tree.

My work as a teacher and a writer means I am just a little sunlight, a little water and a little soil to help them grow.

It makes for a life full of wonder for me as I watch and see who they become and what they become.

They are life.




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