That moment came during the closing credits of "The Help", which we watched and analyzed in our drama class. This is the song that plays as the credits roll...GM! Trying to figure out a way to share how a student got my tear ducts to...you know....'duct'...they didn't fall, just ducted🥺 pic.twitter.com/UvH6dIfaGF— Dr. Stephen R. Flemming (@kellygrade6) January 24, 2020
As the song played, the class was completely quiet, taking it every moment of what they just saw and the lyrics of this song. As the song was playing, one 10th grade brother, reflecting on Aibileen's extreme disappointment at having to leave Mae Mobley, whispered to me, "That's how it be in foster care. As soon as you be with a family you love, you gotta leave."
If the song and its lyrics weren't already to getting to me, his whispered words while it was playing sealed the deal. "That's how it be in foster care. As soon as you be with a family you love, you gotta leave."
This isn't the first time a student said something to me that agitated my allergies. One year a 3rd grader bear-hugged me and cried. He, too, was in foster care and missed his mother. Another year, a 6th grader, cussed me out and stormed out of the room. I didn't respond. He came early the next morning and read me a long apology letter. In it, he detailed all of the male family members who were locked up and how his aunt didn't understand him. He ended that long letter with, "And Mr. Flemming, you the last one I got left to look up to!" {insert extreme pollen in springtime}
We must build up enough of a rapport and relationship with our students such that, if they so choose, they can come to us and help us better understand their outbursts, absences, perceived apathy, and ___________. Sometimes the content must give up its seat to just some listening, no advice, no suggestions, just listening.
"That's how it be in foster care. As soon as you be with a family you love, you gotta leave."
"And Mr. Flemming, you the last one I got left to look up to!"
