A Bittersweet Interview

 Since 2003, I have been to more than ten different countries in Europe, South America, and Central America. In all of my travels, never once did I have to wait years for a visa appointment; spend hundreds of dollars on the visa application before it was even approved; or travel to a consulate to be interviewed. Actually, it was quite easy; I just had to buy a plane ticket, show up in the country, and receive a tourist visa automatically in the airport:  no questions asked.  No extra fees.  Maybe $10 once or twice in El Salvador...that's the most I remember ever having to pay. So why is it so much harder for people to visit our beautiful country than it is for us to visit theirs?  Why is it that they receive us with open arms while we jump to conclusions about the nature of their visit and make it almost impossible for them to be approved?

After years of pleading with our Mexican family to come and visit us here in the U.S., we finally convinced them to start the process.  The first step was to get a passport.  Whereas I can drive five minutes to the local post office, sign a few papers and receive my passport in the mail after just a few days, our family had to call the passport office over. and. over. and. over. again. trying to schedule an appointment... only to get the busy signal. over. and. over. and. over. again. and no way to schedule it online.  Finally, after one year of calling and waiting, they snagged an appointment in a city eight hours away, traveled by bus to an area considered extremely unsafe at the time, and got their passports.  Now we could start the application at last... hooray!!  

Before submitting the application, we had to decide where to go for the interview.  The biggest dilemma was:  choose a city much farther away with a shorter wait time, or choose a city a little bit closer with a longer wait time?  We chose a city called Matamoros which we had never been to and knew almost nothing about only because it had the shortest wait time:  two years instead of three.  But as the interview time finally drew closer, my brother-in-law started to have doubts.  He had just started a new job at the University of Chiapas and didn't want to spend $800 per person on a plane ticket to Matamoros only to be turned down.  I remember that my heart sank when I heard him explain why they should wait; I felt so disappointed and couldn't even bear to look at him.  But in hindsight, I can see that he was exactly right in making that decision.

So, we had no choice but to wait another three years for a new interview appointment in Mexico City.  My brother and mother-in-law would still have to fly to the interview, but at least it was closer than Matamoros and he would have more time to establish solid footing in his job and collect the necessary documents.  So the next step was to plan for the interview.  Everything we read about the interview process said to take documents explaining the "purpose of your trip" and your "intent to return home."  So my brother-in-law went to the interview with a letter about his job, bank statements, a letter from us explaining their travel itinerary, a document showing that he owns land in Mexico...anything he could use to show that he planned to return to Mexico after the visit.  He also watched videos about tourist visa interviews and prepared himself for how he would answer the most common questions.

But the interview was nothing like what we saw in the video...and the so called required documents were useless.  Several people were already lined up at 8a.m., and the people in charge looked stressed and uncaring.  Instead of taking the applicants to a room with privacy, they called them up to a little window and tried to shoo them away as quickly as possible.  Reminds me of the DMV!  The man at the consulate took one look at the application, took one look at my brother-in-law, asked him only two questions, and instantly denied him.  An agonizing wait of six years ended in less than five minutes.  Before my brother-in-law even had a chance to show his documents or defend himself, the interviewer was already calling "next!" in broken Spanish--as if checking out someone's groceries at Walmart:  get them in, get them out.  

Obviously there are many parts that bother me about this situation, but these are the three biggest ones:

1. It's one thing if you don't agree with someone's job, culture, background, or whatever, but that doesn't give you the right to treat them like dirt!  When my brother-in-law described to us the smug attitude the interviewer had, I truly felt ashamed to call him my fellow American.  I have a feeling he sized him up and had already made his decision before any words ever came out of his mouth, and to me that is one of the harshest forms of discrimination.

2. I can understand that they would deny my brother-in-law if he has a criminal record, suspicious social media activity (yes, they check that too before the interview!) or associations with drug dealers.  But he has none of those!  Instead, he speaks more English than most Americans can speak Spanish, works hard at two jobs (English teacher by day, manager for the family restaurants at night) and is one of the kindest, most caring people I know!  When I was studying Spanish I went to Mexico two years in a row to be immersed in the language and learn about the culture, so it's only natural that he would want the same experience with his English.

3.  We spent more than $500 for the visa application.  So I got to thinking:  if there was already a long line of people at 8a.m....after a three year wait for the appointment...and there are dozens of consulates all over Mexico doing the same thing...and the majority of people who go through that line get denied...it seems to me that the government is racking up quite a lot of money from the applicants.

You may be thinking, the title is a bittersweet interview and so far everything has been nothing but disappointments.  My mother-in-law also stepped up to the little glass window...also got asked only two questions...also never got asked to show any documents...and was approved!  So at least one person from the family will finally be able to come visit us!  We will need to work out how and where to bring her here since she cannot travel on her own and will no longer have my brother-in-law to escort her...but the good news is that she can come!  Hooray!  

I hope that after reading our family's story you understand more about how ridiculously difficult the visa process can be to come to this country, and maybe the next time you hear about someone trying to come and visit you will not be so quick to judge their situation.

What would Jesus do....about immigration?

In the 90's, several kids (and even some adults) started wearing bracelets with WWJD woven into them:  What Would Jesus Do?  The phrase quickly caught on and became even more popular than the bracelets.  In light of recent events related to immigration, I can't help but think, What would Jesus do?  Would He force people back to their countries, insisting that they don't belong here?  Would He accuse them all of being criminals?  Would He forbid them from receiving a quality education simply because they haven't mastered the language?  Most would agree that the answer to each of these questions is no; Jesus would not do these things!  

Over and over again in the New Testament we see a humble man who showed compassion to everyone He met regardless of their circumstances.  For example, He healed the woman with an issue of blood for 12 years even though everyone else had shunned her (Matthew 9:20-22).  He healed lepers and demon-possessed, the lame, blind, mute, and maimed.  It didn't matter the disease or how infectious it was; Jesus was willing to touch even the dirtiest and most rejected of society and make them whole again.  He even ate with sinners in an effort to show them the light (Matt. 9:10-13).

Unfortunately, in today's times, it seems that so many have forgotten what it means to show a light to those who are hurting and have special needs.  We judge too quickly and empathize too slowly.  We have discarded the words of Jesus when He said, "Judge not, that you be not judged.  For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged..." (Matthew 7:1-2, NKJV).  

Jesus went about "all the cities and villages" (Matt. 9:35).  If someone had come to him from another country or village to be healed, would he have turned them away?  Would He have said, "Sorry, I can't heal you today because you're still an alien.  Come back when you're a citizen."  Of course not!  When he fed the multitude of 5,000 after delivering the sermon on the mount, there were probably many people who walked from very far away to hear His message.  But did He tell his disciples, "We only have enough food to feed the local people and everyone else can go hungry."  Of course not!

Our Savior also showed the importance of accepting people from other nations.  When He talked to a woman from Samaria at the well, she couldn't believe that a Jew was talking to her, "For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans" (John 4:9).  After Peter saw the vision of the clean and unclean animals coming down in a sheet, he understood that he was now to preach the gospel not just to the Jews but also to the Gentiles.  He later told Cornelius, "You know how unlawful it is for a Jewish man to keep company with or go to one of another nation.  But God has shown me that I should not call any man common or unclean" (Acts 10:28).  Which people do you think of as unclean?  Which people would it be hard for you to share the gospel with?  Instead of Jews vs. Gentiles, we could easily put ourselves in Peter's shoes:  Americans vs. ___________________ (any other nationality!)

Jesus also understood that there were times that the people may need to flee because of persecution.  As He told His disciples in Matthew 10:23, "When they persecute you in this city, flee to another."  If someone had come to Jesus seeking asylum due to unsafe conditions in their country, do you think He would have said, "Sorry, no more refugees today.  Find another place to go."   Definitely not!

Not all of the immigrants followed the law to come here.  It's true.  Not all immigrants follow the law after coming to this country.  Also true.  But that doesn't mean we should show them any less compassion.  It could be that they endured extreme suffering before coming to this country that we can never begin to fathom because most of us will never experience anything remotely similar.  It could be that the ones who came here illegally actually have far more reasons to be here than the ones who came legally.  But it doesn't matter, because we don't know their full situation, we don't know their whole heart, and it's not our place to judge.  The purpose of this blog is not to argue about who should or should not be allowed in this country or condemn the laws; it's simply to think more about treating people from other countries the way Jesus would.

So, how should we approach the issue of immigration as Jesus would?  First and foremost by showing love and compassion to all people.  Second, we should not judge them unfairly, jump to conclusions, or make false assumptions.  Third, get to know them for who they really are; discover their talents and abilities; focus on the whole person, not just one part; and see what we can do to help.  The next time you hear something in the news about immigration and you're not sure how to respond, just think, "What would Jesus do?"

An Immigrant's Journey, Part 2

 So, the last time I wrote anything on this blog was in March 2016.  Since then, I've had another baby (she's now 9 years old!), moved to Henderson, and written another book (all good reasons, but not excuses, of why I abandoned this blog).  

In my last entry, "An Immigrant's Journey," I expressed frustration with the system that makes it so difficult for certain groups of people to receive a visa to live legally in this country.  Now, nine years later, I feel more frustrated than ever!  I know two wonderful men in Mexico who applied for a visa to come to the United States; one for a three week trip visiting different congregations, and the other to attend a religious school where he could receive the formal training he never received in Mexico.  Both were denied.  

Since 2018, I have been studying up on the visa requirements for Mexico as I try to help Jose Luis's family come.

• You must be in good standing with the government (no past offenses or criminal activity).  
• You must submit evidence that you will return to the country at the appointed time. 
• You must submit evidence of savings accounts.
• You must agree for the government to check all of your social media accounts.

Seems like a lot, doesn't it?  Especially for someone who is only planning to visit the country for three weeks. The hardest for most to prove is the second one:  submit evidence that you will return to the country at the appointed time.  You may be thinking, but if they have a family in Mexico, of course they're going to go back to their family!  But in the eyes of the government, it has nothing to do with family.  It means you must own property or be associated with a business. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to own property or be the owner of a business in Mexico?  Much less have money in savings!  Again, this seems like a "no way to win" scenario.  People want to come to the United States because they can't find good jobs in their country.  They can't get a visa because they don't have enough money for it (if they did, they wouldn't need to come in the first place!) So they cross our border thinking that's the only way in.  And because that keeps happening, now the ones who are trying to do it the right way can't get in the right way because the government has made it almost impossible to be approved even when they follow all the steps.  It's a vicious cycle!  

Let me back up for a minute.  I told you I first started looking into tourist visas in 2018.  Lydia was almost two and hadn't met anyone from her Mexican family yet, so I desperately wanted them to come and visit us.  Before we could even start the application process for my brother-in-law and mother-in-law to come, they would need a passport.  Here we have the luxury of filling out an application for a passport online and filing it at our local post office in just a couple of days.  But in Mexico you must make an appointment at a passport office, which are only located in the major cities and only open a few hours each week.  And the only way to make an appointment is to call!  So after two years of calling and repeatedly getting a busy signal, my brother-in-law finally snagged an appointment in 2021 (it took even longer than usual because of the pandemic).  They took a couple of days off of work to travel eight hours to one of the most dangerous cities at the time in order to finally get their passports.  

Now we could officially start the application process!  The next step was to decide where to go for the visa interview.  The city of Matamoros was the furthest away from where they lived but had the shortest wait time of only two years compared to three, so we chose that location.  The application was complete and the interview was now scheduled for 2023.  But of course it couldn't be that easy; the trip to Matamoros was going to cost $800 round trip per person ($1600 total--more than what most people in Mexico make in three months or more), and my brother-in-law started to have doubts about spending so much money and making a long trip, only to find out they would not be approved.  So we had no choice but to cancel the appointment and schedule one for Mexico City for February 2026.  My heart broke as I realized we would have to wait another three years just to find out if they can come visit us or not.  (To clarify, Mexico City isn't close to where they live either; it's a ten hour bus ride, still traveling along a dangerous route, but nowhere near as far as the places with a shorter wait time.)

In the meantime, my brother-in-law has obtained a government job at a university and is hoping that will help his chances of getting the visa.  So, this process that began 9 years ago will finally be coming to an end in just 8 more months.  I hope and pray the long wait will conclude with a "yes" and not a "no."  I have sent letters to three different congressmen about this issue, all to no avail.  The same point I made nine years ago is the same point I made in those letters is the same point I'm making now: the way to slow down the influx of illegal immigrants to this country is NOT to spend billions of dollars on walls and detention centers.  A better solution is to work with countries like Mexico where the working conditions are dismal to allow more visitors legally; don't set limits on neighboring countries or the ones with the highest demand; make it more affordable to apply for a visa; open offices in more cities so that people don't have to travel so far and spend even more money; and be more realistic about the criteria for receiving a visa.  Lastly, people who live in countries like Venezuela and Haiti, where the government has no control, has all the control, or the people are starving so much that they fight each other for food, should be granted asylum!  Immigrants are often willing to do the difficult jobs that many Americans don't want.  So instead of condemning them for coming to this country for reasons none of us can ever fully understand, let's show them more respect and appreciation.

An Immigrant's Journey

I could tell lots of stories of immigrants and refugees that I have taught over the past few years.  I could tell about kids whose only idea of school is a 30 minute lesson under a tree as the sun scorches them.  I could tell about families who gave up their prospering careers as doctors and lawyers so that their kids could go to a school that does not close every few days due to violence or political tensions.  I could tell about teens who came here--sometimes alone--with nothing but the clothes on their backs.  Instead, I'm going to tell the story of an immigrant who is near and dear to my heart--not a student, but my husband.

While his story is not nearly as heart-wrenching or difficult as the others that I mentioned, it does show what kind of journey an immigrant undergoes--and how each step in the journey brings them closer to their goals.  The story begins seven years ago in San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico, where we met and married.  Step one on the journey:  apply for a visa.  After paying about $2,000 (our earnings from the past 6 months of working in Mexico!) and submitting all of the necessary paperwork, we were ready for the visa interview appointment.  We spent about $1,000 more on airfare to Cuidad Juarez, a city on the complete opposite side of the map from San Cristobal and one of the most dangerous cities in the world.  In fact, as we were looking for a hotel shortly after arriving, a woman pulled up to the sidewalk, said it wasn't safe for us to be walking around, and offered us lodging at her home for much cheaper than the hotels.  We accepted, not knowing what else to do.  Two days later, as I was walking to meet Jose Luis after his appointment, I witnessed a drive-by shooting just feet from where I was standing.  That's right:  a real life, drive-by shooting.  As it turned out, the visa was delayed and we had to stay in this dreadful city for the rest of the week--spending much more money than anticipated on lodging, food, and the change in flights.  It was all worth it, though, when Jose Luis finally held the visa in his hands.  Step one on the journey complete.

Step two:  look for work and a place to live in the U.S. In the span of one week, we bought a car, moved from Georgia to Tennessee, stayed in a dump motel, and finally managed to find a one-bedroom apartment within a reasonable price range--all while I greeted and planned for my first set of students in the U.S.  Jose Luis, poor thing, was forced to pass the time while I worked by watching my crazy collection of chic flics and trying to study English.  Needless to say, our checking account was depleted.  After working a couple of months and catching up on rent, we had to pay $1,000 in immigration fees once again in order for Jose Luis to apply for his permanent residency.  And again, we found ourselves broke while making 11 p.m. visits to Kinko's to send more documents, more photos.  Finally, 4 months later, we received confirmation that our application was approved and that he was now authorized to work.  But, in order to get a driver's license he had to show a social security card, and in order to get a social security card he had to have worked for at least 2 months.  So, I drove us to church, to the mall, and even to his new place of employment, even though his macho Mexican pride couldn't bear to be seen in the passenger side. 

Once again we found ourselves submitting application after application.  We tried to apply for jobs in person, but they always told us he would have to do it online.  We tried to do it online, but the websites never let us advance past the parts that asked "Are you a United States citizen?" or "social Security number" (not "are you authorized to work in the United States").  Are you starting to see how messed up the system is?  Just when we had given up hope, he received a call for his first interview.  His English was still so limited that he used the Spanish/English translator I had given him during the interview.  Luckily he received another call a few days later asking when he could start.  So in a matter of months he went from teaching physical education classes at a university and making decent earnings by Mexico standards to flipping burgers and making minimum wage.  After being cooped up by himself all day in a cramped apartment for the past five months, though, he was happy to take whatever he could get.  Step two in the process complete.

Step three:  buy a house.  Over the next couple of years we settled into a rhythm and learned to be content with our jobs--even though deep down we were both hoping for something better.  We became curious about a program designed to help first time homebuyers and thought, why not try it?  Unfortunately, since Jose Luis had no credit history, we didn't qualify.  So, we bought some new furniture in his name and paid it off quickly--and little by little something strange happened; Jose Luis started to receive mail for the first time that wasn't from USCIS or family members, but from actual credit card companies.  Against our better judgment, he applied for a credit card--feeling like we had no choice if we were ever going to own our own place.  About the same time, we learned that we were expecting our first child and debated whether to stay in the small, noisy apartment or seek a more comfortable space.  We took a chance and talked to our realtor--and this time he gave us good news!  More paperwork, more applications, more fees, but we closed on our first house just two months before baby Susana was born.  Step three in the process complete.

Jose Luis was now working the third shift at Steak 'N Shake, which meant that we rarely saw each other.  One of his managers left to work for Vanderbilt University Dining and recommended Jose Luis for a cook job.  He was interviewed just a few days before Susana was born, and when I called and interrupted his work at Steak 'N Shake at 5:30 a.m. to tell him that my water just broke, he basically told his coworkers that he would not be back. 

Step four in the process:  get a job teaching Spanish.  Jose Luis came to love his job at Vanderbilt, in spite of the fact that he received a "temporary lay off" for three months every summer.  But he felt a little strange about not utilizing the degrees he had worked so hard for in Mexico.  Not long after moving to Tennessee, we started to investigate what Jose Luis would need to do to become a certified teacher in the U.S.  The Tennessee Department of Education informed us of a company that could translate and evaluate his documents from Mexico, as long as they were originals.  Since his two universities from Mexico refused to mail the original transcripts and had a policy that only he could pick them up, not a family member, our first trip back to Mexico, in summer 2009, included a stop at his two universities--one of which was 14 hours away by overnight bus ride.  Did I mention that we also had to pay 500 something dollars for this service? 

So we got everything translated and certified.  But of course it couldn't be that easy.  Now Jose Luis would have to pass 3 praxis tests before he could begin teaching: the Principles of Teaching and Learning, which consists of 3 essays and is so difficult that even many American students fail it the first time, the Physical Education test, and last but not least, Spanish.  (By the way, the tests are also very expensive.)  Although he put a great deal of time into preparing for the first two tests, his English was still not at the level necessary to write long, fluent essays, and he was devastated by the results.  He was so crushed, in fact, that it was almost 5 years later before he worked up the determination to take the tests again.  This time his English was much better, he received extra time, and he changed his method of studying.  Unfortunately, he still came up short--failing to pass by only 1 measly point. 

At the same time, he was growing more and more used to his job at Vanderbilt and received constant praise from both managers and coworkers.  Just when he finally made up his mind to give up on teaching and even applied for a position as a higher level cook, he received a message that changed everything.  It all started around the beginning of January.  A friend he had met on a mission trip, who has been teaching Spanish at Greenbrier High School in Robertson County for many years, told him that one Spanish teacher had already left and that another one would be leaving in March.  At first we were leary of spending several hours going through the application process again and didn't want to risk the disappointment of a rejection.  But one lesson we have learned from all of these experiences is, you never know what might happen if you don't try. 

After several phone calls, emails, and visits back and forth between Jose Luis and the human resources office, he was finally asked to come in for a job interview.  The interview was much more difficult than he anticipated, and he thought for sure he bombed it.  So he was more surprised than ever when he was offered the job.  He has been teaching for one week now, and he is full of the energy and passion of an excited new teacher.  I'm overjoyed too, because for the first time since we moved here he is working a normal schedule and able to spend much more time with us at home--just in time for the new baby's arrival.  Step four in the process:  complete.

We have not arrived at all of the steps on our journey, and it may be a long time before we do.  But we have persevered, and each step has brought us closer to the next.  Our lives are extremely hectic (some days we have to depend on caffeine just to make it through), and we may not have the fanciest house or the biggest cars.  But we are blessed by so much more than material things; we have the love and support of an amazing family, a God who does not fail us, and so much more than what we deserve.  We especially need to remember how much more we have now than what we started with.  Of course, it would not have been possible without many who helped us along the way, from giving us things, to assisting with applications, to recommending us for jobs.  More than anything, God answered our prayers and opened doors of opportunity for us, as I'm sure He will continue to do as long as we keep our focus on Him.  I have also learned so much from Jose Luis's humility, patience, and positive attitude through it all. No matter what your view  on immigration is, I hope you can appreciate how difficult the journey is for many immigrants.  In spite of the constant challenges they face, they do not give up and often work harder than many others to reach their goals--and ultimately reach a greater level of happiness because of it. 

Emotional Baggage

Since the beginning of last year, I have been trying to get one of my students, Mark, tested for special education.   Today we finally had the initial S-team meeting.  It was one of the most difficult, heart-wrenching meetings I've ever sat through.  After Mark's other teacher and I explained to his mom about the peculiar behaviors we have noticed in class, she confirmed that he acts similarly at home.  She then told us that he has acted this way ever since his father was deported two years ago.  Now he is afraid of everything and doesn't ever want to be alone.  He is so afraid, in fact, that he has to leave the door open anytime he goes to the bathroom, and his younger brother has to help him take a bath (and much more).  In addition to the emotional disturbances and anxiety, he most likely has a learning disability and speech disorder, as well. 

I realized how much one event can alter a student's development.  Mark was probably a good student in kindergarten and first grade, but as soon as his dad was forced to leave the country, everything changed.  He may have been very close to his dad, and now he suddenly lost all communication with him and could not even look at a picture of him without crying.  His mother recovered more easily, quickly removing any reminder of her husband from the house and moving in with another boyfriend--adding even more emotional baggage for an already damaged young boy.  On the other hand, his mom feels guilty that she can't take better care of Mark and that she has to spend so much time at work. 

There are hundreds of students dealing daily with family drama, loss, separation, abuse, hunger, divorce, and a plethora of other problems that we as teachers are sometimes not even aware of.  In a classroom they look the same as the other students--working sometimes, playing sometimes, talking to friends, complaining about every little thing.  But deep down they may be hiding a secret.  Even though I suspected almost as soon as I started teaching Mark that he had learning disability, I never knew the full story until today.  Now that I know, I don't think I'll get frustrated when he stares off into space during class, makes no effort to complete his work, or interrupts others.  Instead, I'll go out of my way to make sure he understands what to do and that he can make friends more easily.  While I've always given him extra help, now he will get more than just academic support--he will get emotional support. Many times the students who bother us the most, whether it be the class clown, the lazy complainer, or the bully are the ones who need the most love.  Sometimes it takes opening up to a parent and listening as they describe how helpless they feel to remember how much.

A New Challenge

Two days ago, my supervisor of the past three years dropped in for an unannounced observation.  Instantly I felt nervous.  My worries quickly washed away, however, when she sent me a message explaining how much she loved my class and all the positive things she noticed.  So, why did I still feel defeated the rest of the day?  Why did I still feel like, in spite of her praise, everything I was doing was still not good enough?

It's because every day when I go to my guided reading table to meet with small groups of students, there's always one set of eyes looking as hopeless as a fish out of water, one voice shouting, "I can't do this!"--before I've even had a chance to explain what he's going to do.  For the most part, I have excellent students this year--bright, eager, and well-behaved.  But these pleading eyes and voices haunt me even in times of celebration. 

The class she observed is the one I feel the least comfortable about because for the first time in my almost ten years of teaching, I have a group of first graders--not to mention six second graders who didn't learn what they should have last year.  First grade is such a pivotal year because it's when kids learn more than any other time how to read and write.  At first, I was excited about all the progress I would see and was up for the challenge.  Now, eight weeks later, I have a newfound respect for kindergarten and first grade teachers. 

I never realized how difficult it is to teach a student how to read and write. Sure, I've worked with students who had no literacy before, but that was different.  Those kids were already in high school or middle school, so they had to learn fast in order to pass their classes and graduate.  Many of them also knew their first language well enough that the skills we learned in English could easily transfer over.  But these first and second graders have no concept of putting letters together to make words--in any language!  They can read the sound cards without skipping a beat, but when it comes time to actually using those sounds to read the words on a page, they freeze up, waiting for someone else to say it first.

There are small victories, but for the most part I feel like the students are not progressing fast enough--certainly not at the rate I had expected at the beginning of the year.  Today was particularly difficult. I was listening to a boy read a level A book (the lowest level possible).  Even though he tested accurately at this level a few weeks ago, the only words he could read on his own were the and to.  For the rest of the time we struggled through it, with him calling out words that looked nothing like the ones on the page and me pleading with him to "look at the picture" and "sound it out", all the while trying to still my urge to just say the word for him.  By the time he finally finished, the boy next to him had read three books on his own, and it was time to go.  Certainly no time left to explain to him what I mean when I say "sound it out" or teach him some of the many words he didn't know.

During the same class, the students were practicing the words that will be on their spelling test tomorrow on white boards.  They are in second grade, so I started out giving them second grade words--and most of them failed miserably.  So, I changed to a list from mid-first grade.   Now these words are too easy for them--except one student.  While the boys next to him effortlessly wrote the words, this boy just stared at me, as if waiting for  me to write the words for him.  I emphasized the sounds one at a time--"ttttttt---eeeeee----nnnnn".  Occasionally he would exclaim "oh!" while a flicker of recognition flashed over his face, and write l...or b...or any number of other letters that had nothing to do with the sound I was making.  When I changed my approach and started asking, "which letter makes the tttttt sound?", he still had no clue--even though he knows all of the letter sounds like the back of his hand.

When I was training for the marathon several years ago, everyone kept telling me, "get ready for the 'wall' at mile 20."  I feel like I've come to a wall in teaching these kids.  I've done everything I know how to do, yet they still seem to be stuck.  Every step forward seems to bring two steps backward, and every new word they encounter in a book is like a hurdle they have to jump.    I will keep looking to my fellow teachers for wisdom and inspiration, and to God for patience and understanding.  Let's hope that the next time I write I can talk about all the great gains they made instead of all the frustrations I feel. 

Another Day Done

     My sixth year of teaching has officially come to an end.  Each year I become more emotional on the last day of school, but for different reasons.  In my first couple of years, I would literally jump for joy when all of my students had left the building, perfectly fine never to see them again.  This year, as I made the dreaded yet inevitable farewells, I was on the verge of tears.  Instead of feeling happy not to see my students again, I felt sadness that I wouldn't see them again.
     As I learn more about teaching, I learn more about my students.  As I learn more about my students, I learn to look for the good in each of them rather than focusing on the bad. 
Additionally, I have learned not to take my job for granted.  I have come a long way in six years, from an intern hired only to cover a teacher on maternity leave, to working my butt off so that as an intern teacher I would still be noticed, to waiting in limbo my entire summer vacation to find out if I would be rehired, to finally receiving word that I was rehired only to be let go the next year due to reasons beyond my control, to going through the reapplication process, to becoming an itinerant (aka traveling) teacher, to working at three different schools in three different years.  Additionally, I have taught in storage rooms, closets, hallways, and one half of a portable--rarely in an actual classroom.  Finally I have arrived at what I consider the best place in my career so far--an elementary school where I teach several groups of EL students in a portable all my own--although I have also learned not to get my hopes up, because it could change at any time.
     It's difficult to check any kind of social media without finding some king of whining or complaining by a teacher; "only 2 weeks until summer!"; "I hope we get a snow day tomorrow!"; "we really don't get enough pay!"; "our job is so hard!"  While I share these sentiments wholeheartedly and understand the mountain of emotions that precede them, I also feel like many people read these messages and get the wrong idea about teachers.  Just as I have learned to do with my students, through several years of trial and error, I think teachers need to focus more on the positive aspects of their jobs rather than giving the impression that they can't wait to get away from school every day. 
    One of my brothers-in-law is an elementary school teacher in Mexico, and last year I had the privilege of visiting his classroom.   His students come from families whose diets consist primarily of rice, beans, and tortillas.  Many of their father's have left to find work in the United States, and many are lucky to arrive at school at all, much less bring any kind of uniform or school supplies with them.  Yet my brother-in-law teaches with joy and compassion, rarely complaining about the difficult working conditions.  Last year schools all over his state completely closed down for three months while the teachers protested new legislation.  During this time, they received no pay and were forced to do some things against their will, such as march in the streets or even block roadways.  My brother-in-law and I may not agree on all of the issues, but there are two things that we do agree on:  1.  teachers should not be forced to  join the union or do anything else that they don't agree with, and 2.  the ones who suffer the most from these demonstrations are the students.  After so much time on strike, the teachers and government never reached an agreement, and students never had to make up the instructional time that they lost.  That's right:  the students will never get back three months' worth of their education.  Now, a year later, they are on strike again, and students are likely to miss two months' worth of their education.  Again. And still my brother-in-law does not complain; and I'm sure there are hundreds of teachers just like him all over Mexico and other countries, as well.  But in the United States, teachers (myself included!) are making such a fuss about one missed snow day.
     So, what's the point?  Like I said before, I am trying to find more reasons to love my job every day, whether it be the unique characteristics each of my students bring (even the trouble makers), the drawer that is always full of pencils, or the new technology that is constantly being offered to teachers and students.  Sure, the evaluation system is still "a work in progress," and our state leaders may have no clue what it truly means to be an educator, but at least I'm not being forced to stop teaching and march in the streets.  My students may not have all of the resources that students in so-and-so's room may have, but they have everything and more that they need to be successful.   I want to remember that even though I may bring my work home with me every night and feel stressed to the max and on top of everything else attend meeting after meeting, at least I have a job and a paycheck.   I want to truly appreciate the vacation time and days off that we do get rather than lamenting the fact that it was too short.  Most of all, I want to value each day not as another day done, but as another day that my students were able to learn and grow.