Calvin was a student that most teachers view as a “lost cause”. He was a slacker and only passed a class with a grade to keep him eligible for football. When the season was over his grades went down even further. A nice kid but typically either late to class or a no-show. He was a good football player and his coach went the extra mile for him, becoming a mentor and encouraging him to finish school. 

 

The teacher’s lounge was always buzzing with stories about students. Students like Calvin. Calvin was in my computer class. His attendance was fair, projects were always late and always about football. I liked Calvin and noticed there was more than just a kid who didn’t care. He was often tired and at times asked if I had any snacks (which of course I did). I gave him extra time on projects and helped him with spelling and grammar before giving a final grade. 

 

I didn’t know anything about his home life. No parents ever showed up for conferences, he came instead. I didn’t know he had aspirations of college and becoming a football coach to help kids like him. I didn’t know because I didn’t ask. It only came to my attention during class one day when he asked me to read and help him with his college essay.

 

It was hand written. I started reading the first paragraph with red pen in hand. I presumed there would be spelling issues, not to mention a lack of punctuation, incorrect verb tenses and many run-on sentences. I didn’t make it past the first paragraph when the pen went down, and I became lost in his story.

 

He was the oldest. The one in charge. He had mouths to feed, clothe and get off to school. Many times the power had been shut off. Sometimes his mom would be home, still high or semi-conscious, incapable of caring for them. If she wasn’t home, she was out on the streets looking for more drugs. Calvin and his siblings were often shuffled between relatives until they were tired of the extra burden. They would then be sent back home to a cold, dark house, with his mom, drugs, and little food. 

 

Calvin came to school hungry, cold and tired. He came to school seeking food, warmth, safety, love, acceptance, and someone telling him he was worth it-that everything would be okay; that there was a future and it was good.

 

For some reason I believed his excuses and gave him a chance. But, how many students had I talked about in the teacher’s lounge believing they didn’t care? Giving up on them? Becoming hardened to their stories and behavior? How many were lost through the cracks because we didn’t believe the cracks were there or we were too tired, discouraged, or hardened to even try and repair them? Couldn’t we have at least put up a temporary barrier until the cracks could be fixed, saving hundreds of kids?

 

Don’t they all need me, and you, to give them the same chances as Calvin? How many have a story similar and we just didn’t take the time, or worse, care to find out the why? Everyone has a reason to build a protective wall. Even kids.