September:
it's my first week at school, and I'm trying
to get my high-school math class to take notes.
One
girl is on her phone. "Please put your phone away," I ask her. She
looks at me. "Ugh. What's your
problem?" When I ask her again, she rolls her eyes so hard it’s like
they're trying to escape.
… oh
my god, I think. It's high school again, and the popular girls still don't like me.
We’re
attending a football game in an early cold snap. A boy is outside wearing only
a T-shirt. "Hey!!" I yell at him. "Put on your coat!"
He's
surprised to be asked, but he does. The next day, he says hello to me of his
own volition for the first time.
My
name is Kathy Tian, and I want to share with you the Corps Member experience.
When
I applied to City Year, I, like many other applicants, looked forward to the
idea of inspiring children. I expected to tutor, mentor, and teach kids the
importance of education. Of course those things happened — you've heard our
impact numbers already — but what I didn't
expect was the extent to which they would
inspire me.
October:
I receive my math tutoring list. Sure enough, cell-phone girl is on it.
Steeling my nerves, I take her out of class and start working with her. Slowly,
her attitude changes. I watch, amazed,
as the student who wouldn't even look me in the eye starts to come to school
every day, speak respectfully, and ask for
help.
T-shirt
boy isn’t on my focus list. But I see our impact on him, too: he’s in my class
on time every day. He finally cracks
open his math textbook. He takes notes — he turns in homework.
November
and December: I tutor. I listen. Cell-phone girl makes steady progress. In
December, T-shirt boy passes a unit test for the first time and the grin on his face is utterly infectious.
January:
during a lull in math tutoring cell-phone girl cracks her back and says,
smiling, "Dang, I'm still sore from when those kids jumped
me." I'm shocked: she just
laughs. "I stood my ground when everyone
else ran," she says. "I
wasn't about to show them my
back."
T-shirt
boy comes back from break tense, angry, explosive-tempered. He doesn't want to
talk about it. For a few days, it seems like all our progress has been lost: he
stares straight ahead in class, shoulders hunched
defensively, quiet.
Then
he opens his notebook again.
I
don't always know what my students are going through, but I know enough to
wonder: if I were in their place,
would I make it to school every day?
Would I be able to focus on the math,
even with a City Year in a red vest breathing down my neck? I know that she
has a little sister she takes care of; I know that he comes back from every
weekend unhappy and silent.
How
do they do it?
February:
report cards. T-shirt boy says he's definitely planning to go to college.
Cell-phone girl says, as casually as she can, yet still betraying her
excitement: "I made Honor Roll!"
March:
I'm working 50, 60 hours a week, sometimes six days out of seven. Gas is eating
a bigger and bigger hole out of my stipend. The only blessing? At 8:00PM, when
I’m finally heading home, there's no traffic
on I-75. When my alarm rings at 5:30AM, I hit Snooze with real fury and think: I do
feel a little itch in my throat. Maybe I can call off. It's just one day.
Then
I think about T-shirt boy's ready smile. Cell-phone girl's growing pride in her
work. What if they need me today and I’m not there? I silence the protest of my
exhausted body, and I crawl out of
bed.
Everyone talks about how City Year makes a measurable impact on students'
lives.
But
our students impact us just as much.
They teach us humility. They teach us pride: in our communities, in our
families, in every success. They teach us how it is true that anyone can rise
above any circumstances. For every moment
I may have inspired a student this year, I have been inspired twice over.
I
want to take a moment to think about those who have allowed us to touch their lives. Thank them. What we have given, we receive in equal
measure ... and more.
In
September, I came to City Year thinking I’d been given the chance to change a life.
In
June, I will graduate City Year knowing a
life has been changed: mine.
But
right now, it's still April. T-shirt boy just showed me his ACT scores: "I
only got a 17. I need to get a higher score when I retake it in June! Will you
help me?" — of course.
Mid-semester
progress reports have just come out.
And
yes: cell-phone girl made Honor Roll again.
This
week's post was a guest blog submitted by Kathy Tian in April. Kathy is an AmeriCorps member who
just finished her service with City Year Detroit.
