Hodgepodge

Worthy of note are three specific student incidents from the past couple weeks, and interestingly all three occurred during dismissal. This is perhaps the most intriguing part of my day. Last week, I alarmingly rushed to a tight ring of students, fearing an outrageous fight in the middle. What I found instead was one student, the center of attention, with the happiest look I have ever seen on her face (not surprising, given the circumstances). A new wave of alarm settled in as I immediately remembered that this girl is not usually the primary focus. And then the reason slammed into me as dozens of students jumped eagerly to relay the student’s story: she had told everyone she was pregnant.

I personally have no idea what to make of the situation even now. Sure, it was a “look-at-me” ploy. But it also strikes me powerfully when considering the fact that I know of at least one student for whom such a statement could physiologically be true, and this unnerves me for ALL of my girls. Then I take into account the unsettling prevalence of teen pregnancy in the Delta, and the prevailing acceptance of childbearing as a solution for every type of lifestyle. I almost think that young, unwed pregnancies are as close to a rite of passage as high school graduation…well, quite frankly, even more so. I cannot even fully articulate the phenomenon, other than to say: pregnancy is EVERYWHERE. It continues to mystify me.

Event #2: One of my students, who is nothing short of a third-grade thug destined for jail, brought a BB gun to school—including bullets. He brandished it proudly after school, and one of my braver, sweeter boys immediately brought it to my attention. Until the “fun” ended, I gathered from other students that this student saw such idiocy as the coolest thing imaginable. I can barely comprehend the kind of woman his mother is and the type of people to whom she is exposing her children. Such an occurrence makes me dishearteningly realize that I know of no way to help this child in the long term; he must have a terrible home life with zero acceptable role models, and the school officials are either inept or too passive about such behavior. What to do to save this child from himself?

Event#3: In some ways, this last anecdote is the scariest of all to me. I have heard plenty of rumors circulating about one of my students concerning her home life: her father is abusive, the family is tragically poor, and the mother had tried to give away her children. It is heartbreaking, and this incredibly bright student has significant behavior problems as a result. On Wednesday, this girl’s mother came rushing up to me after school, asking me if I could take her daughter home with me while she went to Batesville (forty minutes away). I knew in that instant, without any doubt, that if I said yes, this mother would never come to get her child.

The incident forced me to see my lifestyle in an entirely new perspective. In many ways, I still live and function as though I am in college. I live with roommates, I do not spend much time cooking, I am minimalist when it comes to furniture, and I am focused almost solely on my work. Even though I am committed to my job, I still approach it with an understanding that it is temporary, and so I have spent no time creating a home. That is no atmosphere for a child even for a night, and especially not in this case, when it appeared that this girl just might be abandoned into that environment.

And so I suddenly sense an even greater disconnect between me and the rest of Clarksdale. I live differently, I think differently, I bring a completely different context to every single decision and tiny movement I make. I am floating in my own bubble, isolated and sheltered from the true realities of the Delta. Everything I experience is real life for the first time. It is harsh and brutal. And yet, relatively speaking, I walk away each day unscathed by the hardship everyone else faces. In this way, I am much closer to the people at the Chinese New Year’s party than I am to all of my co-workers and students and parents. And there is no hope EVER that I will get any closer.

My co-teacher had volunteered me to help supervise students during the after-school practices for the black history program, and this role quickly evolved into one where I was in charge of both behavior during our ridiculous number of practices and the backstage during the actual production. The multiple layers of irony were never lost on me. I got acquainted with students from all the grades, which was the most rewarding part, and I earned myself some “street cred” on every imaginable front: parents, students, and even other teachers. And when the show started off with a fairly major crisis, I handled the backstage turmoil with calm and success. It was an energizing experience, especially since my co-teacher did her best to make sure everyone knew and sufficiently appreciated my role. I imagine I will be involved in future performances, perhaps even improve them a bit!

On a personal front, I reached an important conclusion in the past couple weeks. First, some background: My roommate had told me about a very close friend she had had while in the Peace Corps, and to whom she never speaks anymore. She was lamenting this situation, especially in light of the intensity of that former relationship. It reminded me of my senior year at AU, when I would spend every night of the spring semester in tears as I contemplated all of the friendships I was about to lose as a result of graduation. I could not accept the prospect of such loss. And then an extremely wise professor told me that friendships will inevitably grow and evolve as our circumstances change. The key to surviving the transition is to recognize that you and your friend will continue to support one another in new ways. Relationships should not require constant contact (as they did in college); friends can acknowledge that despite the distance and the longer lapses of conversation, their friendship can always just pick up where it left off. There is no need for awkwardness or resentment, just security in the friendship. For many of my relationships from college, this has been the most liberating and truthful piece of advice I have ever received. It was a truly helpful way to approach my impending graduation.

Now, I find myself intermittently struggling with the relationships I have created here in the Delta. To me, they are one of the most important aspects of my survival on a daily basis, but they are also priority in the greater scheme of my life and experiences. I find myself wondering how these relationships will fit into the larger picture after TFA. Where I flounder is that I cannot quite comprehend how important my friendship is to them. When this is all over, will we continue to stay in touch? Or even, is this relationship only significant here in the Delta? I have already deliberated on the Delta vacuum, but this discussion requires a return visit. I propose that most of what I have experienced in TFA is a heightened experience, largely because there is a nagging void in my environment. Earlier I said that I function in a protective bubble of sorts. I think this applies to just about everything, including the relationships I create. We have surrounded ourselves with the things and the people that can offer us the support and comfort we need during a truly grueling process. But remove that factor from the equation and put us back in our old lives, and I would argue that the things and the people would fall away. The need is no longer there, and the commonality is lost. The hardships would suddenly be less hard and the void would be filled with all sorts of other distractions.

It is the same thing that happened when I studied abroad; the intensity of the experience gave me three truly remarkable friends, and I grieved the loss of their constant companionship when I returned home. But today, I never talk to them, I never think about them, and I never miss them. I have fond memories, certainly, and I would love the opportunity to see them again, but it is not something for which I yearn or constantly strive.

I imagine my friendships here will go in the same way. For a while, I created the same internal battle that I had when leaving Germany and graduating from AU. I was always devastated by the upcoming change in my friendships, and all I wanted was to keep these people predominantly in my life. I have already felt the same way here in the Delta. A part of me did not want to let go of what I had managed to create, and that same part of me resisted any attempt to change those relationships. But now, I understand the necessity of pre-empting that inevitable hardship by re-framing my outlook. I already know that such a course will be difficult, but it must be done: I have decided to approach my friendships the same way I have approached everything else in TFA—temporary. Even though I might care deeply about the people I have met, I must accept the fact that I will only be important to them for the duration of my TFA commitment. After that, we will go our separate ways, and inevitably the new demands of the next stage will overcome any lingering closeness from the previous experiences.

I struggle with this realization almost as much as I did with the actual feeling of loss at other times, but I am hoping that being realistic now will help to save me some heartache in the long run. Moral of the story: enjoy it while it lasts, but do not be too devastated when it is gone. I am going to be too busy embracing the next step. And none of this means that I can’t look back on the memories fondly. And in ten years, there is no reason why we won’t be able to just pick up where we left off.