Serious emotional and behavioral disorders characterized the first population of kids I first taught after changing careers 17 years ago (late November of '96). I was a social studies instructor at a Level 5 school that served the greater Baltimore area, and my students were young men who had problems controlling physical aggression. I had to stand on my head and spit nickels to get them to accept me as their new teacher, but once we'd made the adjustment, I found a group of kids that had already been marginalized by society eager to learn what they could do to participate in the democratic process. A great number of our students were already over the age of 18, and the 1998 election became my first at helping to get them registered and get out the vote.
From there I went on to teach social studies at the Charles Hickey School, one of the largest juvenile prisons on the East Coast. My assignment placed me in the detention wing, where my students (ages 14-21) were literally a captive audience, as their cells were on the same hallway as my classroom. 9/11 occurred 2 months after I'd been hired, and as word began to trickle out about what W knew regarding the possibility of hijackings , my students asked me (in a nutshell; I can't type the actual words here) about why the President was being lionized as a hero when his failure to proactively set measures in place to prevent this from happening helped contribute to it. Over the next year and a half as populations changed on the unit where I taught, my students, who were allowed to watch the evening news, wondered why the administration was pressing for war in Iraq when they'd let OBL get away in Afghanistan. What could done about the way that W was governing the country? For those who were turning 18 over the next year and a half, I strongly encouraged them to register to vote, so that others could be elected to ask that same question.
After spending two years working at a residential treatment center, I moved to the Eastern Shore, where I have been teaching for the past 9 years, 8 in a classroom where I provide academic and behavioral support for students who have difficulty succeeding in a conventional classroom; well over 60% of them receive free or reduced meals, and for some we serve the only 2 meals of the day they might have. In 2008, I was successful at registering two of my 18 year-old students to vote, and this year several more have been added to the rolls. I also plan to provide transportation to the polls if they need it, something I couldn't do in 2008, when I was a poll watcher for the Democratic Party in our precinct.
Maybe this is the place to mention that I suffer from an anxiety disorder. I work another job, which prevents me from phonebanking and going door-to-door; I' m doing all I can right now to GOTV and keep the White House in Democratic hands. I see everyday firsthand how my students overcome significant behaviors and obstacles to complete high school and attend university, and what they have transcended to do it has occurred only because the social service safety net hasn't been completely severed. The polls, I have to admit, have me worried right now. I've donated to the campaign and plan on doing so again, but I'm more fearful for my students than I am for myself. My mind keeps returning to the lyrics in the second stanza of Nine Inch Nails' "Head Like A Hole", released 22 years ago " God money's not looking for a cure/ God money's not concerned about the sick among the pure/ God money let's go dancing on the backs of the bruised/ God money's not one to choose." It sickens me that 22 years later this mentality is still so pervasive among those on the right, and that the most unqualified, mendacious candidate they could have nominated is not only still in the race, but also reducing the President's lead in his firewall states. I want the candidate most sensitive to the needs of my students to be re-elected, and hopefully finish the work he has begun. I'm doing everything that time permits to help achieve this, but with the polls reflecting not a bounce but apparently a shift, I fear that it's just not good enough.
The debate last Thursday night went a long way toward alleviating that feeling. I guess I should have posted this at Street Prophets, but I'm praying that Tuesday the 16th will be a game-changer for us. Please excuse me for the length of the diary (this is my first), and know that any hand-wringing is because of my frailty, not a by-product of concern trolling. I don't know how many Kossacks will even read this, but it feels cathartic to let it out.
