"How could I say goodbye...?"
Like this,
DEUCES!!!
PEACE OUT HOMIE!!!
I'M BUSSIN' OUT THIS JOINT!!
I jest. It wasn't as simple as I thought it would be to say so long to these young guys with whom I had been working! Throughout the program, kids had come and go without warning. Some went back home while others went to more confined settings. Some came for a day, others for a week and a couple for the entire summer! So saying "peace out homies" should've just been part and parcel of the culture of the environment. But for me, it wasn't so simple.
No, I did the break down and tear up or anything like that.
I like to stay in touch, go to sports games, contribute to their causes, support presentations, talk to their parents, text parents back, and the like. Well...this was different. No parents, games, presentations, nothing. They are in a detention facility. I couldn't visit their homes, call home, meet parents/guardians or anything like that.
On the last day they were giving their counselor grief. I thought I'd attempt to bring them back to themselves by showing them the video presentation I'd been working on about my trip to Baltimore and Freddie Gray's neighborhood. I wrote something about that when discussing the type of teaching that went on. It worked to some extent. After that, we watched and analyzed "The Blind Side". Then it was time for me to go, for the last time.
I went around, shook everyone's hand, gave them my well wishes and all. But two of the kids' reactions stood out. Most just shook hands and that was that. One of them shot me a look that said, "but why you gotta go?" This was the same one who, in a previous post, told me that he liked writing and that it comes naturally to him. He was Donatello in the last paragraph of a previous post. He was one of the few who really showed interest in learning this summer.
The other reaction that stood out was from one who had given me grief every waking second of summer and who was on the short list of those who I'd call the bane of my existence but kinda grew on me! I'm sure we've all had those types. Tap dance on your nerves, but when the dancing stops, you're like, "but...huh...oh, ok." #confused As I was making my way to the door to leave, this kid made it a point to call out from another room, "Ard Mr. Flemming!!"
"but...huh...oh, ok." #confused
I stopped. Turned around. Went to where he was. Stunned.
First, this might have been the first time he said my name all summer. I was used to being called names like "ole head". On other days I may have been "dis n***" or someone who was "schemin", but rarely, if ever was I "Mr. Flemming."
Second, he made it a point to get my attention. He, of all people, was one I wouldn't peg for one to make it a point to say goodbye. I shook his hand and again encouraged him to do what he could to get discharged.
Making my way through the door, I looked to my left where there was a window and one of the kids pushes back the curtains and the pic below accurately captures the scene...
I looked back, held my solidarity/power/"right on" fist up and forced myself to keep walking.
Goodbye.
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