To my mama...

With the end-of-year finish line in sight, I had my students revisit an assignment they had completed at the close of their (our) first semester at Lou Dantzler High School.  As the famous NPR template suggested, I asked my tormented, jaded freshman to consider what they believe to be true.  What is it, I asked, can you count on in an inconstant world that seems to throw more punches than parties?  Silently, they wrote, scribing their entire belief system on a once-spiral-bound frayed-edged piece of notebook paper.  Per request, I shared mine, an altruistic declaration of my belief in the goodness of mankind and educational equality, with the class, but suggested that the students simply fold theirs up and "hang onto 'em for a while."  In freshman years, much like dog years, students age at a considerably faster rate than us crusty adults.  By my calculations, if they tucked these reflections away until May, they would be revisiting them with 22 year old maturity.  I could only imagine what inconsequential things they believed in in January: T-Mobile Sidekick, their "bros," bangles, Vans, hustlin'... They could not possibly believe in anything heart-felt; their minds just didn't think that way.

I was so wrong.  With three short weeks remaining in their (our) freshman year, I asked a tall order of my students.  "Remember when we wrote those 'This I Believe' reflections?  I want you to pull those out right now."  Honestly, I didn't expect a single student to unearth that thing.  They can't seem to hang on to their books, a pencil, a 100 point essay assignment, but wouldn't you know it, every kid pulled a battered, crumpled up reflection out of their backpack and laid it proudly on their desk.  The thoughts written on these balled-up papers were important to them--more important, I quickly realized, than the shallow ideals I originally assumed filled their pages.  I asked them to read what they believed in 6 months ago, then gave them the opportunity to change anything they no longer believed to be important.  Crickets.  No one even reached for their pencil.  Breaking the silence, one student asked to share his reflection with the class, and although it was not in the daily lesson plan, I allowed it, a decision based purely on intrigue.  He began with a story about his mother, about how she works 3 jobs just so he can keep up with the latest trends, so his overly judgmental peers do not find out that he and his mom bounce around between friend's houses because his dad found a new girlfriend and kicked them out almost a year ago.  He shared that to believe in something is to know that it's always there, and in his world, he can't count on anything...except for his mom. And 6 months later, he had nothing to change, because she was still his only constant. His beautifully transparent essay ended with this statement: "The bond a child shares with his or her mother cannot be matched, cannot be explained, cannot be broken.  I keep breathing because I know, for a fact, that there is nothing I can ever do to change my mother's love for me.  She is all I need.  This I believe."  Everyone cried.  Then, everyone shared.  The vast majority were devoted to singing the praises of their single mothers, who sacrifice everything to make sure their children are happy, healthy, and successful.  I once assumed that these kids could not possibly believe in family...all from broken, many from violent, unstable homes.  But, one constant remains... children believe in the unwavering, unconditional love of their mothers.

The students did not change what they believed in most over the course of a semester, and I'll bet the farm it won't change for the rest of their long, successful lives.  I, on the other hand, rewrote my "This I Believe" reflection to more accurately reflect what I put my faith in:

I believe that I am my mother's daughter.  I believe that my humor, my wit, my competitiveness, my compassion, my love for trash television and my toned legs, come straight from her.  I believe that there is no mess she will not help me out of and no distance she will not travel to come to my rescue.  I believe her strength and independence have shown me the of woman and wife I want to be.  I believe that we could make one mean beach volleyball duo.  I know how to believe in others because she

never once stopped believing in me.  I believe my mother is all-knowing, and have learned from her that "all-knowing" is a mindset...if you believe it, it is so ;)  I believe I drew the long straw on celestial mommy-daughter-match-day, because I have the absolute best mom in the world.  This I believe...

I love you Mama.  Happy Birthday...