grace

the stories of my students. there are really no words. they are stories of bone crushing, mind numbing, and heart breaking struggles. children stripped of their innocence, yet they have no idea.

D. has no idea where his brother is. he has taken to a life on the streets

A. spent years "growing up" in a crack house, molested by her mother's boyfriend.

V's cousin was shot and killed in front her own eyes.

this is normal. this is oakland. this is what so many turn a blind eye to. these are our children, those that we optimistically call our future.

a few weeks ago one of my students (okay, one of my favorite students), was jumped by a group of girls of a rival gang. quite frankly she got the shit kicked out of her. she missed a week of school. the school administration (which is usually overwhelmingly supportive to students) is fed up with her drama. I swear i see her sitting in the office in trouble more so than she is in class. so...upon a long discussion with the coordinator of after-school programming, it's decided that i'll do a home visit.

GULPPP. my stomach sank, there's a lump in my throat. i'm terrified and thinking yet again this year "what the hell did i get myself into". then, i remember this isn't about me and my selfish concerns. this is about the future of a child. her immense potential and curiosity that the school administration has so greatly overlooked. this girl is brilliant .

breathe.

the big day comes. i get dropped off by a coworker, and remind myself to breathe. breathe. breathe. i'm shocked by what i walk into. i hop the broken baby gate that corrals the dog in the garage-like overhang and knock on the door.

breathe.

i introduce myself to mom and the gaggle of small children of the little 2 bedroom shack, sit on the torn couch waiting for my student, and take in the surroundings. floor boards are pulled up and splintered. an empty bottle of hennessy sits on the faux mantle like a trophy. a beautiful brown eyes baby playing and giggling on the floor. the focal point of the room is the new flat screen tv among the dilapidation.

there she is. two shiners encircle her eyes. breathe. in her own home, she is made so vulnerable to me.

i get the play by play of what exactly happened. we talk about her behavior leading up to this point, and how we can move on from here. passed gang life. passed her mistakes. we talk about how i care. her goal to be a pediatrician. how that goal doesn't equate with her choices lately. i totter that line between support and preaching. breathe. end of conversation.

we hug. she keeps holding. breathe. i leave.

after the weekend, she returns to school. smiling and laughing, saying hello in the clinic.

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i'm trying to digest all that happened that profound day. all i know is despite all the mental, emotional, and physical pain of that day, i was overwhelmed by God's grace and infinite love. breaths of grace. and glimpses of something greater.