I’ve been helping in Jachin’s class two days a week since he started back into public school. Normally I go in two mornings a week for 2 1/2 hours at a time. I spend hours in front of the copy machine, grade piles of homework, and work one-on-one with the kids who are really behind. And I mean, really behind. Jachin is in third grade, and like in any classroom, there is a huge academic curve. Some kids read on a fifth grade level, some kids can barely read at all. For some, English is a second language and learning seems 10x harder. Some kids already know multiplication, and some don’t know basic addition facts.

For a couple of months now, I have worked for many hours with 2 kids in particular; kids who don’t know off the top of their heads that 8+5=13. I’ve been trying to simultaneously teach them basic facts along with the concepts of “carrying” and “borrowing”. I gave them flash cards to work with over the holidays, telling them that when they could bring the cards back in and do them for me, I would have a prize for them. But no luck yet.

This morning I spent a couple of hours grading the end of the period math tests while Miss C filled in report cards. The one sweet little kid that I’ve spent dozens of hours tutoring missed every. single. problem. I also learned today that he can’t tell time on a clock, let alone tell you what time it will be in two hours. I cried. Literally… tears. Miss C told me that I was making a difference, even if it didn’t seem like it. But she cried, too… because next week the class is starting into multiplication, and there are still a couple kids who don’t know very basic addition. They will fall farther behind. They will get no help at home. Miss C asked me how she was supposed to pass these kids on to 4th grade, and wondered how they ever got past 2nd.

I had no answers for her. I’m only a mom. I got to selfishly go home at lunch time to try to forget about it all and focus on my own kids. But Miss C is there every day, trying to teach kids who seem to be everything but completely unteachable. She takes it home and wraps herself up in it. Sleeps with it. Goes in the next day to do it all over again.

And I don’t know how to help.

In the space of quiet and lack of answers, we wiped our tears and kept grading. I grew sick of looking at red ink.

4 Comments »

1. Wow, that was a powerful post! I admire you for your compassion and dedication to the children in the class. They are lucky to have you to help them. They may not ever learn their math facts or become excellent readers but they will always remember the nice lady who took a little bit of extra time with them. Remember that time makes all the difference in the life of a child.

   Love Ya

   Comment by Diana — January 11, 2008 @ 5:25 am

2. That breaks my heart too. The silver lining: you are making a difference and they are getting help at school.

   (Our curriculum doesn’t include teaching ‘carrying’, ‘borrowing’, or multiplication. It’s up to the parents. I wish I was kidding. I know I can pull it off with my kids, but WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS that struggle or have parents that aren’t able or willing to work with them. Okay, I’m done ranting. Sorry to add to the sadness. It’s been on my mind…)

   Comment by Lisa Milton — January 11, 2008 @ 10:21 am

3. Oh, Suz. This is so sad. I think it’s great that you go in to help. It’s heartbreaking.

   Comment by Leslie — January 11, 2008 @ 12:22 pm

4. Whew, consider the nail hit solidly on the head. The taking it home to wrap up & sleep in it is so accurate - sometimes I can’t breathe for my despair over certain kids.

   Your presence does help, even if no one comes away telling time or carrying numbers; being kind & compassionate & available can do wonders.

   Comment by stephanie — January 11, 2008 @ 4:31 pm

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