Hey, Miss, can I get some Cheetos?

I got the e-mail today (FINALLY!).  My thesis has been passed without revisions.  Thank goodness, since my family has already booked their flights out here to watch me walk across the stage in my ridiculous getup.  (Sidenote: how do I get wrinkles out of a heavily pleated black graduation gown?  I feel like an iron isn’t the answer here…)

I also made my father’s hotel reservations.  I saved the confirmation as a PDF and e-mailed it to him.  Or at least I meant to.  But I hit send without attaching.  Fortunately, Google stopped me.  “You wrote ‘I’m attaching it as a PDF.’ in your e-mail but there are no files attached,” it warned in a pop-up box.  “Do you want to send anyway?”

So, I attached the PDF.

But holy moly, I don’t know if I like such a conspicuous reminder that GOOGLE IS READING EVERY WORD I TYPE!

I don’t know what’s going on at home, but R’s been spending a lot more time hanging out in my classroom than he usually does.

Today he was standing out on my ramp after getting sent to my room by another teacher.  He wasn’t in trouble; he just needed a moment. When I came out to talk to him, I saw that he had tagged his name in pencil on a sign outside my door.

“Why did you tag on my sign?”

“It’s not even your sign.” he says, as he points to the one with my name on it, “That one is!”

“Point taken, but you can’t tag on any of the signs. I’m going to come back here in 1 minute and I expect it to be gone.”

I came back a minute later.  His tag was gone.  In it’s place, he had written, “I’m sorry.”

Baby steps.

I would like to report that yesterday, around 7:45 AM, there was a young Latino male walking down Imperial.  He was wearing baggy pants that sagged and a giant t-shirt.  Whatever crime was committed, I’m pretty sure he fits the description.  Your officers saw him, too.  As they drove by him, one of LA’s Finest honked the horn of his cruiser and gave that young man the finger.  The car drove away immediately, though.

That kid you guys insulted is my student, R, though you might know him by his tags.  This isn’t the first time you’ve done this to him.  I bet he’s had a few choice words to say to you in the past and maybe you don’t like him so much.  I hear you.

But now, hear me. 

There are some things I know about R that I believe you know already.  I know that he’s been arrested before and also that he doesn’t react well when confronted.  But you’ve only had the opportunity to see him at his very worst moments.  I have the privilege of seeing him five days a week.

Here are the things about R that you don’t know yet: He has the highest GPA of everyone in my advisory and keeps an A in my English class.  He stands up in class when people are treating each other unfairly.  He has spent the past year transforming himself by sheer force of will into a mostly kind and compassionate person.  He cares for his younger brothers to try to keep them out of the trouble he got in.

And yesterday morning, one of your officers decided the best way to spend my tax dollars was to drive around insulting children.  R didn’t retaliate, but came to school feeling less than.  He walked into my classroom, shoulders slumped, defeated.  Then I asked him to take the state test in physics.  He had to sit still for three hours with no break.  He had to solve complex problems.  To be honest, he probably did pretty poorly - not because he doesn’tknowphysics; we’ve spent hours working together after school to make sure he does, but rather because you took time out of your busy day to let him know just how little you think of him.

Congratulations on a job well done.

Yours,

Ms. R